Dr. Neurotic(13)

No doubt, it needed to be something sexy, maybe even a little skimpy.

Add a shopping trip to the list, I thought to myself as I scrolled  through my emails. And when I saw one with a subject line that read,  CALL YOUR MOTHER AND FATHER! in all shouty caps, I also added, call Mom  and Dad to the list, too.

The last time I'd seen my parents had been about a month before I'd  moved back to the East Coast. They'd scheduled a week-long vacation to  spend time with me, before they headed back home to Boca Raton in the  sunny state of Florida.

Yes, my parents were those retired people. Born and raised in NYC, once  my dad was able to retire from his law practice, he and my mother had  sold their apartment on Fifth Avenue and moved to a warmer climate with  palm trees and early-bird dinner specials.

Sure, it would've been nice to have my parents still in the city,  especially since I was now here to enjoy time with them, but Dave and  Sue were happy in their little bungalow close to the water, and when it  came down to it, that was all that mattered.

Plus, there were always some advantages to having several states between  you and parental units. I mean, obviously, I loved my parents. Being an  only kid, I had a childhood that revolved around both my mother and  father doting on me constantly. But there was no denying that when I  considered the fact that my mother had a tendency to meddle, the  distance had its benefits.

So, being the good daughter I was, I'd make sure I called them before I left the office.

Otherwise, Sue Hollis might call the local police and have them file a missing person's report.




"You can stop right here," I instructed the cabbie as he pulled in front of St. Luke's main entrance.

He slipped the engine into park. "That'll be fifteen bucks."

"Thanks. Keep the change." I handed him a twenty-dollar bill and slid  out of the cab. Stilettos safely on flat ground and not in one of twenty  cracks in the concrete, I shut the door and headed up the walkway  toward the lobby of the hospital.

Dressed to the nines in a slinky little gold sequin dress and nude  heels-and not, say, covered in blood-I imagined I was an odd sight for a  hospital visit. Hell, I could literally feel people glancing curiously  in my direction as I walked through the doors and onto the elevator.

A little after seven, I walked through the reception area of Nick's  office to find absolutely no one still working. Everything was silent as  a mouse, and besides the tip-tap of my stilettos against the hardwood  floor, no sounds reached my ears until I was within a few feet of his  office door. It was partially open, and behind it, the sounds of fingers  tapping against a keyboard filtered through the cracks.         

     



 

He was still working.

I honestly wondered when he actually found the time to sleep.

With a gentle push, I opened the door, the fresh light of his office  contrasting with the mostly dark hall and illuminating handsome Nick  Raines, sitting behind his desk, sexy reading glasses covering his face,  and his full lips pressed into a firm, focused line.

"Knock knock," I announced my arrival, and he looked up from his laptop.

Waves of satisfaction filled my belly as he took an extra long perusal  of my body. His gaze started at my face and slowly, oh so slowly, worked  its way down my chest to my hips and on to my legs, and then repeated  one more time before finally settling back on my eyes.

"Wow," he muttered and opened and closed his mouth twice before adding, "You look amazing."

"Thanks." I smiled. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes." He nodded, and then he shook his head. "Wait … where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"A surprise?"

"Uh-huh." I nodded and bit my lip. "Grab your shit, Nick. I'm ready to show you a good time."

"Wow. Okay." He stood up and shut his laptop. "Going by the way you're  dressed, I guess it's safe to assume this isn't a Fleetwood Mac's Sex  Pants kind of thing?"

I winked. "That would be a correct assumption."

For a man who stuck to a schedule that very rarely deviated, I knew it  said a lot that he didn't ask any more questions as he shrugged on his  suit jacket and tossed his keys, phone, and wallet into his pocket.

"I have a feeling it's a good thing I'm not on call tonight," he said, and I grinned.

"That is a very good thing."

Nick rounded his desk and met me near the door. I went to move, ready to  get the night under way, but he stopped me with a press of his hand to  the bare skin of my back. My front effectively drawn to him, he leaned  in and placed a soft kiss to my cheek.

My panties prepared themselves for a deluge.

But that was it, an innocent kiss and done before turning me, his warm  hand still fresh on the skin of my back as he led me out of his office  and toward the elevator.

As we stood in front of it, waiting for the cart, he wrapped his arm  around my waist and tucked me into his side. His warm breath brushed the  skin of my neck as he whispered into my ear. Fuck yes, more physical  contact. "You look amazing tonight, Charlotte."

I felt high off his words, like any second I could orbit into space,  when I saw what I thought was a light down the hall. It disappeared just  as quickly, though, and Nick's whole body felt like a heating pad for  my own. I didn't have time to bother thinking about fucking lights.

"Thank you," I quietly whispered back.

His deep, chocolate gaze locked with mine. No words exchanged, just my eyes searching his and his searching mine.

I wasn't sure what either of us was looking for, but the butterflies  fluttering inside of my belly told me neither of us needed to search  anymore. Everything we wanted was standing right in front of us.

The elevator dinged its arrival, and Nick guided me inside. Our night had just begun, and already, I was a fan.

A big, big fan.




Two hours later, we were surrounded by pounding pop music and chatty  patrons inside of a little dive bar in the FiDi district. Known by  locals as the Iron Horse, it was nothing more than a dingy open space  with a bar in the back, a dance floor in the center, and several tables  nestled near the front corner of the establishment. But what it lacked  in visual appeal, it made up for in cheap drinks, happy energy, and  kick-ass beats.

Nick and I sat side by side, our hands intertwined and resting on Nick's  thigh, as my friends continued to ask him anything and everything about  his upcoming show, The Doctor Is In. They were naturally impressed when  I explained that my date was a neurosurgeon by day, but once I told  them about the reality docuseries, they nearly lost their shit.

The era of the Kardashians, ladies and gentlemen.

I couldn't take my eyes off of him, hungrily devouring every minute  detail of his eyes, his lips, his cheekbones. I rubbed at the skin on  the back of his hand with my thumb, every stroke of contact electric in  intensity.

His lips lifted into a soft smile as he chuckled at something Harper had said, and I swooned a little more.

"No, Jesus. This is nothing like the Kardashians," he explained. "It's  just a reality docuseries about three doctors from St. Luke's."

"Holy shit, Char," Ivy exclaimed over the pounding music and slapped her palms onto the table. "Have you been on camera yet?"

"Uh …  I don't think so."

She quirked a brow. "What do you mean you don't think so?"         

     



 

"Well …  I mean … maybe once. But I doubt it would get used."

"Oh my God! You're going to be famous."

"Uh … no." A shocked laugh escaped my lips. "I highly doubt me meeting  Nick at his office for lunch while cameras were filming equals fame."

She rolled her eyes. "What were you wearing?"

"I have no idea."

"A black skirt and a pink blouse," Nick chimed in.

Holy hell, he remembered what I had on?

"Wait …  Was it the sexy black one that has a little slit in the back?" Harper asked.

Nick grinned and offered a little nod of an answer.

"Oh boy. If your face isn't on camera, no doubt your ass will be. It looks crazy good in that skirt."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "I highly doubt my ass will be the focus of a reality series about medicine."

Harper opened her mouth to most likely refute my argument, but the  bartender dropping off another round of beers and shots at our table  stopped her before she could start.

I was eternally grateful for the reprieve alcohol had just provided.

"Shit," Nick muttered with wide eyes. "More shots?"

"Uh-huh," Ivy responded with a wink and held up her shot glass. "Cheers, bitches," she said and downed the amber liquid.

I followed her lead, and Nick did the same. I couldn't help but grin at  his bitter facial expression after he'd successfully downed his third  shot of the night.

"Jesus. Was that whiskey?"

"Yep," I said with a laugh and stood on my heels. "Now, if you chatty  bitches don't mind, I'm going to drag him onto the dance floor."