“Yeah, why is that weird?”
“Where?”
“All over. Em’s room, or a bathroom. This one time, you were wearing red scrubs, and you bent over in the hallway when my parents were in with Em. I ducked into the waiting room bathroom and knocked one out. It was fast that day.”
I stare, then cover my mouth with my palm. Massimo pushes my hand down as a silent reminder not to cover my lips.
“How? Like . . .” My mind races, wondering how that’s even possible. How can he feel all that and bring himself to? “Did you finish? I mean like go all the way or just to feel?—”
“Fuck yeah, I finished. Why wouldn’t I?” His eyes narrow, and he leans toward me. “You don’t?”
“Well, yes, but we’re not talking about the same things.”
“Jerking off is jerking off.” He shrugs, showing his age. That’s what keeps me from falling for the possibility of him and my patient.
“That’s definitely not true. But all I’m saying is masturbating in a hospital is not . . . sexy.”
I have to think about the right word to use. Over my years in nursing, many male patients masturbate and don’t care if you watch or not. Some even like it. Lewd as it is. We send in male nurses to address it. Rarely do women, or at least they are more discreet about it.
“You’re sexy. It’s why I live with a stiffy around you. Got one now.”
He moves the boxes off his lap to show me. The distinct outline of his long shaft is now evident as I stare right at it. More dirty thoughts flood my mind. My pussy is already drenched.
“Uh . . .”
“Don’t worry, I won’t do it out here. Unless you want me to. I would then. Watch you watch me, that’s fucking hot. Press the tip against your DSLs. Fuck me.”
“Ay, Papito!” I scold him, slap his shoulder, and he looks a bit hurt. The flirty face he is making rolls into a lip pout that’s more adorable than sexy. “Don’t say such things.”
He mutters something and goes back to eating. I do the same. The silence builds between us when my name is called. By the last person in the world I want to hear it from. My hands shake, so I set the fork down before it clatters to the ground. My pulse pounds through my skull.
“Sofia, who’s this guy?”
I clutch my container and shoot to my feet. Coffee sloshes in the cup as it tips over and drips on the concrete slab. My pulse hammers like another code blue blaring through the intercom.
“What are you doing here?” I’m stunned. Almost speechless.
“You haven’t been answering my calls or texts.” He closes in on me. Puffing out his chest and glaring at Massimo, who’s slowly rising to his feet. Taking the crumbled container from my hands and putting both his and mine on the bench. “Now I know why? You’re out here cheating on me with some kid.”
His broad chest rises as if he’s the one being threatened. His tan eyes darken, narrowing into a glare that I’ve never seen before. That carefree smile is long gone. Now he looks downright scary.
“Sofia doesn’t have a man to cheat on?” His voice is low. Fists coiled and ready to swing. Full protector mode. It’s flattering but a bit misguided. I can handle myself. “So, who are you?”
My fingers graze Massimo’s arm. They barely get a reaction as he’s half a step ahead of me and ready to spring into action.
“I’m her husband. Not that I need to explain that to you.” He points his finger at me. The grim underneath his nails tells me he’s in places he shouldn’t be. More than likely, gambling to get by instead of real honest work like me. “Sofia, tell this fool who I am.”
Two sets of eyes bore into me. One is as dark as the night. The other is a toasted cinnamon. Massimo easily has the advantage in height and weight. My ex looks leaner than the last time I saw him. Skin stretched tight across his cheekbones, deep lines cutting his lips from smoking, and his tight curls are longer and frizzier.
“Jose, you’re my ex husband. And you didn’t care too much about being my husband when I caught you cheating, so let’s start there.”
“This dirtbag cheated on you?” Massimo grits through his teeth. Taking a step toward him. This time, my fingers do more than graze. They clutch his arm and hold him back.
“Yeah, but that was a while ago. We’ve been divorced for six months.” I answer Massimo, but my stare never leaves my ex. “What are you doing here anyway? Like really?”
Tension courses through my hand and into his arm. I squeeze drawing strength, and he remains coiled. Ready to take over. As if he’s been in a fight or two and knows how fast things go down.
Jose, for his sake, has the good mind not to come any closer. Not to challenge this big guy next to me. It’s an interesting turn of events. One I’m relishing in even though I shouldn’t. My ex has a way of popping up like a damn jack-in-the-box at the most inconvenient times.
