“We’ll come back and let him out in between.”
“You’re not going to cook?”
“I never said I didn’t have limitations.”
“I have to see patients early in the morning. Why don’t we do a late lunch and then come back and go downtown later for the game?”
“Late lunch? I like where your head is at, Birdie.” He winked and got up, taking his mug to the sink, leaving his iPad on the counter.
“I will call about the tickets,” I said, grabbing my phone.
“I love having a woman in high places…”
“Please—when every guy is coming over to say hi to me, tell me that again.”
We’d had a small spat over a football player calling me late at night with a phantom ache. Daniel thought it was a ruse to talk to me.
As he walked out of the room, he announced, “I’m going to get contacts next week.”
“Oh, don’t you dare!” It was my turn to wink as I held the phone to my ear.
“It was a last-minute thing for us to go. How could he have known we would be there?” I felt the frustration boiling in my chest. “Obviously, no one planned this in advance, Daniel.” His name came out as a growl, but I was feeling hot as we walked down the foyer toward the kitchen.
Blowing out a long breath, I attempted to gather my emotions and hung a left up the stairs. I didn’t know what to do or how to act, but space felt necessary.
“It was blatant how much he wants you,” Daniel tossed back like gas on a fire as he trailed behind me.
Trying not to raise my voice, I counted to five in my head.
“Whether it was planned or not, he wants you…”
Daniel continued to get the better of me as I walked into my—our—bedroom, which was part of the issue. We’d rushed into this whole “together” scenario. This wasn’t me. I was pragmatic, methodical.A surgeon for freak’s sake.
“He’s a patient,” I countered.
That goddamn freaking football player. I’d fixed his foot two years ago, but he had nightmares about it getting reinjured. No matter how much I assured him that it was as good as any foot not having been repaired, he called with every ache.
“I don’t know, but he couldn’t wait to rush over to you. It was one thing on the floor, but when we went up to the box, he followed.”
From the adjoining bathroom, I said, “If he has a hangnail, he calls me. He worries constantly. You’re turning this into something it’s not, and it’s juvenile, Daniel.” I put an emphasis on his name, scolding him like he was a kid, and I didn’t care for that at all.
“You’re right. I am acting childish, but it hurts. I know I’m in the wrong here, but I don’t know…I felt intimidated.”
Popping my head out of the door, I said, “Don’t. He thinks he’s going to get hurt. Ruin his career. He needs a lot of support.”
“Maybe he needs a shrink or meds, then,” Daniel lobbed back.
Fully moving to the threshold of the bathroom in just my jeans and a bra, hand on my hip, I looked at him. “That’s not nice, and something I wouldn’t expect out of your mouth. You know as well as me that athletes have fragile egos. And many of them don’t like meds because they think it will dull their performance. They’re wrong, but don’t be a dick.”
He nodded, seemingly acknowledging what a big baby he was being.
I turned to finish getting changed. I was tired and had to be up early. Although I suspected sleep would not come easily.
After changing into my bathrobe, I said, “Danny, please. These are work contacts. That’s all. He’s a star on the football team. Of course he’s going to be at the NBA Finals when our team is in it.”
He shook his head, taking off his big watch and setting it on the vanity. We’d been cohabitating without any rules. We just fell into this playing house routine, and here we were, having a fight. It was uncharted territory.
What was the protocol?
