“Are you going out tonight, doll?” Guy put his hand in the elevator door to keep it from closing. I got it. When they weren’t living up to their stigma, surgeons and stairs, they hopped on the elevator. I tried to stifle my laugh.
“Yeah, girls’ night at Rosa’s, what about you? You should meet up with us. You didn’t forget about your promise, did you?” I bumped his shoulder. He owed me a drink.
“Of course I didn’t forget. Colton and I have a drug rep dinner tonight about some new instruments he wants to try out in the OR, or some shit like that. But I’ll totally try to get out and catch up with you ladies.”
“Sounds like a fun boys’ night out,” I said, my voice laced with obvious sarcasm.
The elevator slowed and opened on the second floor. Chase stepped in. Shit. So much for the stigma. His eyes locked on mine for the first time since we kissed last Friday. He looked pissed. My stomach did a flip and I broke first, redirecting my focus to the cracked floor tile.
Guy nodded and acknowledged him. “Hey Chase.”
Chase did not turn and face forward, following proper elevator etiquette. No, he backed himself into the side wall, arms folded across his taut chest. The sleeves of his crisp blue dress shirt were rolled high enough to show the coursing veins bulging under his tan forearms. I didn’t look up because I knew his eyes were still on me. The tension was thick and palpable, yet Guy was oblivious. I wished I had taken the stairs.
“So I’ll definitely try and crash your girls’ night. How late do you think you’ll be there?”
“There’s a bunch of us going, so probably pretty late, especially once the margaritas start flowing.” I peeled my gaze off the floor and up to Guy and those damn dimples.
“Not missing this. I’ll be there, wait for me.” Guy patted Chase’s arm to get his attention, “How long’s this dinner tonight?”
“Obviously not long enough.”
Silence. It was the world’s longest elevator ride, EVER. Who knew going one floor could be your worst nightmare?
As much as I tried to forget all things Chase, I couldn’t help but wonder what had him so angry. The few times I’d seen him this week, his demeanor was the same—detached and cold. Angry. The only thing familiar about him was his intensity. I hadn’t seen a flicker of Dr. Compassionate either, and I began to question if I had imagined it. Was I so distracted by my attraction for him that I saw what I wanted to see?
I walked into Rosa’s and headed straight for our usual table. I didn’t even stop at home to change. No time after that elevator ride. I said hello to a couple of the girls and poured myself a giant margarita. I slipped comfortably into the high back stool and pulled out my cell phone to text Sierra. One missed text. She was probably running late.
We need to talk. -CC
My stomach churned and I cursed myself for adding my number to the call schedule after the whole pager debacle. Was he really texting me right now?
I’m back at work Monday.
If u need something-call the on-call case mngr.
Now he wanted to talk? What was wrong with the fifty plus hours we just spent in the same building? Not convenient enough? Bullshit.
Know u felt it. -CC
Seriously? Of course I felt it. Was this his way of saying he didn’t? I also felt the sting of his cold shoulder all week. Irritation, compounded with arousal from thinking about our kiss, accelerated my heart rate. My eyes scanned over the last text like a scene stuck on repeat. Know u felt it. Five simple words and I was completely undone. The last thing I needed was an awkward “sorry if my steamy-as-fuck kiss gave you the wrong impression” conversation. Thanks, but no thanks. Why did he have to be so damn intense and hot as hell?
Nothing to talk about.
Have you been drinking? -CC
Obviously. Must be drunk. Why else would any sane female deny a request from this man? Looks like I also underestimated his arrogance.
Last time I checked
I met the legal age.
Pete will take you home.
Go with him. - CC
Thanks but no thanks.
He thought I needed a car service to get home. He thought I was pining over him, getting drunk. I’d had enough. I might not be able to turn off my body’s magnetic attraction for this man, but there was no way I was entertaining one more second of his pompous presumption. I powered off my phone and slammed it into my bag, just as Sierra walked up with a huge grin on her face.
“What’s wrong with you? You look like a cat just pissed on your Manolo Blahniks.” More like a lion…
“Hi to you too, Asspuck. What’s with the Kool-Aid smile?” In fact, her smile was over the top infectious, and I couldn’t help but smile right back.