Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
He moves closer to brush his lips over my forehead. “Keep this wound covered for a day or two. Your knee and elbow will heal up just fine as is.”
I look up and into his brilliant blue eyes. “Thank you, Dr. Morgan.”
He gifts me with a kiss on the mouth. “You’re welcome, Eloise.”
“How can I repay you for the free medical care?” I bat my eyelashes. “It is free, right?”
He reaches up to tilt my chin slightly before he coasts a fingertip over my bottom lip. “We’ll work something out.”
“We will.” I trace the path of his finger with the tip of my tongue. “Can I confess something before you go?”
“Please do.”
I close my eyes briefly to find the courage to do it. “At the club that night, I blew you.”
“I remember that very, very well.” He cups the back of my neck. “Another round of that could help pay down your medical debt.”
I smile, still clinging tightly to the courage I need to tell him my truth, “I had never done that with a boy before. I mean, a man. I never went that far with my mouth before.”
His brows pinch together. “You never sucked cock?”
“I did,” I admit as my gaze darts to the floor. “I never swallowed before you.”
He lets out a heavy exhale. “Oh, lamb.”
I look up and into his face again. “I know it doesn’t matter, but I thought I should tell you. It was special to me.”
“It matters,” he insists. “All of this matters.”
A chime from his phone fills the air.
“You need to go,” I say before he can. “Thank you for rescuing me tonight, and for the excellent medical care.”
A smile parts his lips. “I should be the one thanking you.”
With that, he kisses my forehead again, and leaves me with a million questions and an ache between my legs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Gaines
“You’re fucking kidding me.” Evan approaches where I’m sitting on a chair in the corridor outside of the cardiac care unit. “You’re in the running as a finalist for that show, aren’t you? I was sure it was Sexton.”
I point at the chair next to me. “Sit.”
He adjusts the white coat he’s wearing over his blue button-down shirt. When he sits, he shoots me a ‘what the hell’ look?
I lobby one back his way with another one word demand. “Explain.”
“You explain,” he volleys back like we’re two feuding eight-year-olds on the playground.
“What the hell would I be a finalist for?” I go on because the questions building inside of me are plenty, “What’s going on with Dr. Sexton?”
“That dating show.” He smirks. “I’ve heard the rumors. They were scouting the ED for single doctors.”
I shrug. “I’ve never heard of that show or the rumors.”
“You’re not serious.” He’s staring at me like I have a third eye in the middle of my forehead. “The word around the cafeteria is that a huge production company is looking for a handsome as fuck doctor to cast as their lead in a reality show where he’s looking for love.”
I try my best to follow that, but jump when I see the opportunity to tease the shit out of him. “You think I’m handsome as fuck?”
“Who doesn’t?”
I laugh. “I have no knowledge of the show.”
“So, it’s not you?” He rubs his chin. “It has to be Sexton then. He does have those dreamboat hazel eyes and talk about abs.”
I shake my head. “Logan Sexton? The trauma surgeon?”
“The one and only.” He taps my knee. “Enough about him. Why are you dressed like you just won the lottery?”
I feel like I have. The hours I spent with Eloise tonight were like a dream; a great fucking dream.
I glance at my suit. “You’re talking about this old thing?”
“Old?” He tugs at the sleeve of my jacket. “Italian made. Custom fit, and I’m guessing at least five thousand bucks for the entire look. Although, your shoes could use an upgrade.”
I don’t bother with a response because he’s dead wrong. The shoes are worth a small fortune, too. I learned a very important lesson during my days as a resident. Comfortable shoes are non-negotiable, so I’ve never spared any expense when it comes to footwear. I can thank my inheritance for that.
“Shut up, Evan.”
He laughs that off. “You were on a date, weren’t you?”
I know he won’t drop it so I throw him a bone. “I spent time with someone tonight.”
“Let’s be clear about this.” He rests a forearm on his thigh. “You’re not talking about Mr. Torres, are you?”
I glance at the doors to the CCU where Mr. Torres is now resting comfortably. A slight adjustment to his medications and a few moments spent talking about his grandchildren slowed his heartbeat enough that he was able to drift off to dreamland.
I could have left that to someone else, but he requested a few minutes of my time when one of the nurses checked in on him, so I made the trip.