Dr. Neurotic(5)

"Late?" I questioned. "Late for what?"

She didn't answer me though, instead nodding to the hostess and skating  right by, taking two steps to my every one until she found two free  stools at a table in the bar.

"Hi," she greeted cheerfully, unfazed by the table of strangers we'd  just invaded. To be fair, they didn't seem all that affected either. I  was apparently the only one who found it strange.

"What's going on?" I asked.

She smiled gleefully, settling into her stool and hanging her briefcase  on the high spoke of the back. She reminded me a little of an evil  overlord as she rubbed her hands together.

"Charlotte, what's going on?"

"Welcome, folks!" a man with a microphone said, clipboard in hand, from a  corner of the room as Charlotte took off her blazer and got  comfortable. Silky tanned skin glowed at her chest and shoulders, and a  flowy white blouse billowed to cover the rest. "I see a lot of familiar  faces, and some new, but you're all on time. And that's all I really  fucking care about. Let's get trivial!"

"Charlotte … "

She smiled, a little shrug just barely lifting the bare skin of her  shoulders. "It's trivia night. And I have a feeling I've finally got a  good partner."





"You brought me to a trivia night?" Nick asked, and a shocked laugh  escaped his lips. His hair ruffled up slightly in the front as he ran a  hand through it and widened his deep brown eyes rimmed with lush lashes.  "With all due respect, Charlotte, I just met you an hour ago. I usually  make people wait at least two weeks before accompanying them to things  against my will," he muttered, and it was my turn to laugh.         

     



 

"Time is fluid, like lapping water. An hour, two weeks, what is the  difference, really, anyway?" I bullshitted. "What's really crazy is that  we haven't picked a team name yet," I said, redirecting the  conversation toward the obvious priority. "Got any cool ideas?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm still busy wrapping my mind around how I ended up here."

"No worries, Nick," I said and patted him on the shoulder as I hopped to  my feet. "I'm the queen of brilliant trivia team names. You just relax  and look pretty. I'll handle the rest." I didn't leave him any time to  respond, instead, strolling toward the MC and grabbing a pencil and  trivia answers sheet from the stack in front of his microphone.

"Team name?" he asked, and I grinned.

"Fleetwood Mac's Sex Pants."

"Nice!" The MC laughed and added our name to his list. "It's refreshing not to hear ‘Suck it, Trebek' or ‘Trivia Newton John.'"

"Hey!" I chastised. "Don't knock the classics."

He smirked. "How many team members?"

"Two," I said and pointed toward Nick sitting at the bartop table behind me. "Just me and this neurosurgeon I just met."

The MC's brows rose to his forehead. "You just met, and he brought you to a trivia night?"

"Nah," I refuted. "We just met, and I brought him to a trivia night."

"That's even better." He laughed again. "All right Fleetwood Mac's Sex  Pants, you're all set. We'll be starting in about five minutes."

"Fantastic." I smirked, and without wasting any time, I walked over  toward the bar and ordered two beers and a few apps off the menu from a  pretty blond bartender.

"Here are the beers." She smiled and slid the brews in front of me. "The apps will be done in about ten minutes."

"Perfect. Thank you," I said, nudging the necks of the bottles in between my fingers and weaving my way back to the table.

Nick offered an amused smirk when I sat down on my barstool and slid his beer in front of him.

"All right," I started and set the pencil and paper in front of us.  "We've got the beers, and the food is coming shortly. I hope you like  bar apps."

"Sounds good," he answered, and then his brow rose in question. "Wait … you bought my dinner?"

I took a quick sip from my beer and grinned. "Of course. It was the  least I could do after dragging you here," I explained as I grabbed the  pencil and wrote our team name at the top of our answers sheet. "Plus,  you paid for the cab."

"Fleetwood Mac's Sex Pants," he read aloud and chuckled. "I know  absolutely nothing about trivia nights, but that's a good fucking team  name."

I grinned, preening a little in the light of his compliment. "It'd be an even better band name, but I have zero musical talent."

"Me either." A genuine smile kissed Nick's lips just before he brought  his bottle of beer to them and took a long, hearty drink. I watched  intently.

They were so full and soft in appearance, I had the urge to run my index  finger across the plum-shaded pillows just to see if they felt as  amazing as they looked.

"No drumming or guitar skills? I'm starting to wonder if you have any talents other than surgery."

"One or two," he responded instantly, and the tone of his words matched  the knowing, even slightly heated smirk that lifted the corners of his  lips.

Sweet kittens. So innocent were the words, but so ripe with sex was the tone.

The verdict was in. This man had a mouth I wanted to run my tongue across.

"Only one or two, Dr. Raines?" I teased, forcing an aroused swallow down  my throat-no doubt if I let it escape, it would turn into a highly  embarrassing plea of some sort.

Show me you can motorboat a ten-second mile kind of thing.

"If you're going to ask about my talents, you should probably drop the formalities and just call me Nick."

"Okay," I agreed and tilted my head to the side as I leaned closer to him. "So, Nick, what are these talents you speak of?"

He did that sexy smiling thing again but didn't offer any response, merely keeping his gaze locked with mine.

Hot damn. I think this sexy as fuck doctor is flirting with me …

I silently prayed my gut instinct was right and tucked any and all shame  into my back pocket. It hadn't been that long since I'd been fucked by  someone-some months ago, on only one occasion, if I'm truthful-but it'd  been nearly forever since someone had done it well.         

     



 

My attraction to this man was more than apparent.

Isn't it?

He kept his emotions close to the cuff, so it was hard to tell, but  every once in a while, I thought I saw a little hint of recognition in  his eyes. Not to mention, he'd willingly come along to this bar with  me-okay, after a little coercing.

I frowned thoughtfully.

But once he figured out I'd brought him to a trivia night, he hadn't  made a beeline for the door. So that had to mean something, right?

If anything, he seemed amused by it all, like he was enjoying the spontaneity.

Between his perfectly matched baby blue attire-even the face of his  watch was blue-and his choice in careers, I had a feeling Nick needed  some impulsiveness in his life. I might have been jumping the gun by  assuming he'd want me to, but I was more than capable of showing him  some.

"All right, trivia teams!" The MC shouted from the small stage at the back of the bar. "Let's get this show on the road!"

The bar crowd cheered their approval, thanks to the plentiful availability of liquor, and everyone settled into their seats.

"Are you ready?" I asked Nick as he tipped his beer to his lips.

Some of the liquid missed in his haste to pull the bottle away and  answer, and sweet Lucifer, the devil tried dramatically to make me wipe  it. I just barely resisted. I had a feeling I had my late grandmother in  guardian angel form to thank for chasing the horned bastard away in the  name of my eternal soul.

"I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Nick remarked.

Yeah, time to stop staring at the droplet, Charlotte. Finally sensing  the moisture, his tongue peeked out and licked it away. Oh, come on.  Grandma Hollis, where are you? The devil is near!

"Is this your first time doing a trivia night?" Hopefully, normal  questions would bring me back from the brink of eternal damnation.

"Most definitely," he said and lifted his bottle to his lips to take  another sip of his beer. I moved my eyes away from his mouth and up to  his eyes with a sheer force of will.

"Well, Mr. Brain Surgeon," I started with a cheeky grin. "Since I  couldn't find a rocket scientist to be my partner, you were the next  best thing. Fleetwood Mac's Sex Pants is counting on you to bring your A  game."

He set his bottle on the table, coughing and laughing at the same time. "Way to put the pressure on, Charlotte."

"Oh, c'mon," I teased. "You're a fucking neurosurgeon. I'm pretty sure  you can handle the pressure of trivia night. No way this is more  stressful than dissecting someone's brain."

He grinned. "In the name of Fleetwood Mac's Sex Pants, I hope they ask medical questions."

"That's highly doubtful." I giggled. His eyebrows went up as they  followed the wild crescendo of my laugh. It'd always been crazy, for as  long as I could remember. As a kid, I'd tried to harness it-turn it into  something delicate. As an adult, I'd realized ain't no one got time for  that. If a man couldn't handle my laugh, he definitely wouldn't be able  to handle my propensity for leaving random pairs of socks all over the  apartment until I ran out and had to buy new ones. "We'll probably be  running the gamut of sports, celebrities, and Britney Spears."