“I know damn well you can perform a splash ’n’ slash C-section without shaking. So you can handle a pissed off woman telling you you’re being a fool.”
Damn it. She was right.
“Just…Josie, let me handle this my way.” The sting of antiseptic was a welcome, if painful, diversion.
Silence. As Alex went about the process of cleaning the cut, he could see exactly how close he’d been to the eyeball. A few millimeters north and he wouldn’t be able to claim there was no need for ER care.
He’d never stitched his own flesh before. Other doctors had talked about it. As he carefully looked at the wound, though, he wondered if plain old tissue adhesive would be enough. The gash was closer to the corner of his eye, and he’d have a scar regardless of whether it was glued with Dermabond or stitched.
Questioning whether he was in the right mind to do anything, Josie’s insistence gave him pause. As minutes passed, he sat down on the toilet, ruminating. Sounds from the kitchen—the fridge door opening and closing, running water, the gurgle of a coffee machine—told him Josie was still out there. Why was she staying? Could he apologize and try to repair their relationship? The stress at work was fading as what felt like the Star Chamber receded into being just another case, now put to rest. Josie had been right—his grandfather’s trial was broken and he was on the new medication. She’d left her job—was it because of Alex?
And then there was this threesome thing…
He stood and sighed. Time to decide. He chose the Dermabond.
And Josie.
How long was that man going to be in there? Standing in front of the bathroom door, she gave up, defeated but angry. Really angry. That gash and the way he limped—he needed to be seen. His stupid doctor ego was getting in the way, and Darla was right.
Doctors make the worst patients.
His phone was right there, where she’d left it, on the coffee table.
Time to meet Alex’s mother.
A few presses on the glass and the phone rang.
“Meribeth here.”
“Um, hello, Dr. ...Derjian?” Was it Derjian? Damn. Alex hadn’t told her.
“Yes?”
“My name is Josie Mendham, and I—”
“Josie!” Her voice became warm and friendly instantly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
That was an unexpected reception. “I’m here at your son, Alex’s, apartment, and—”
“You are? How delightful!”
Huh? “I wish it, um, were delightful, Dr. Derjian, because—”
“Call me Meribeth!”
“Um, Meribeth, Alex has been injured.”
A beat of silence. “How, exactly, did you injure him, my dear?” Meribeth asked in a hushed voice, implying something that made Josie blush from head to toe.
“How did I...what... Oh, no! Not that, um, way—no! He ran into a street sign and gashed his face.”
“What!” The tone of voice changed to panic. “Is he okay?”
“He’s refusing to go to the ER.”
“Of course he is. Stubborn boy. I’ll be right there.” Click.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. That hadn’t gone exactly as planned. Josie was strung out on the inside, but she needed to wait and make sure Dr. Mule was going to be okay. The fridge held little but milk; she refilled the ice trays. Ice would be his best friend for the next day or two.
Coffee. She needed coffee. Searching through the cabinets yielded a bag of Rao’s, ground, so she made a full pot because hey—why not? Dr. Derjian was on her way.
Josie was about to meet Alex’s mom.
In the most bizarre way.
As the coffee gurgled, she wondered what she was supposed to do right now. She certainly wasn’t his girlfriend. They weren’t even dating. Not even f**king. Josie wasn’t a booty call. Technically, she was an ex…something. They had been somethigning when he’d gone stupid and accused her of violating professional ethics and compromising an enormously important research trial.
And then…what, exactly, had happened? Although she’d rolled the last few weeks’ events around in her head a million times, it only now occurred to her that the two most stubborn people in the world were at a standoff in Alex’s apartment. He wouldn’t budge. She wouldn’t budge.
She’d done nothing wrong. Not one damn thing.
But if he knew that, he would have reached out. Right?
Inhaling slowly through her nose, she stretched her neck until it cracked, and she realized how tense and tight she was. Watching him on the ground, not moving, body splayed out and bleeding, had made her realize how much she missed him.
Wanted him.
Craved him.
Needed him.
For God’s sake, she’d called him honey. No man had ever been called honey by her lips. Jackass, asshat, cracker (that guy really was), shithead—you name it. Honey was…it was what you said to someone you loved.
The creak of the bathroom door made her turn her head and jump up. Alex lumbered down the hall, using the wall for support, a soggy bag of peas in his hand.
“Can you help me?” he asked. The gash was hard to see in the hallway’s shadow, but as he emerged into the light and Josie walked to him, taking the half-frozen bag, she saw what he had done.
“You Dermabonded it!”
“Yes.”
Peering closely, she got right in his face, professional curiosity getting the best of her. “Good job. You’ll barely scar.”
He folded his arms over his chest, smug now. She inhaled and the scent of man sweat and athleticism blended with antiseptic and glue. “Told you. I didn’t need an ER.” He sagged against the wall, clearly in pain, and Josie’s sense of self was heightened, her face two inches from his, Alex’s hand now resting on her hip. “But I could use some comfort care,” he said in a low, suggestive voice.
Oh, how much she wanted to kiss him. Her body hummed, every inch of her skin wanting to touch every inch of his, her heart beating a pattern that only he could complete. Just as she leaned forward, pulled by a force of nature she couldn’t name, someone banged on the front door.
Alex jumped and Josie pulled back, practically running to the door as Alex called out, “Who would be here now?”
As she opened the door, Josie came face to face with a familiar woman, one who had brought Ed in for the Alzheimer's trial from time to time. “So good to see you again, Josie!” Meribeth Derjian said, reaching in for a hug. Josie was suddenly very aware that she was still wearing her pajamas.