I like my job way too much to allow fleeting feelings to take away everything I have worked for.
Elias Carrington can’t happen.
7
ELIAS
All I can thinkabout from the meeting with Dr. Warrick earlier today is Olivia. She is the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. She checks every single box when it comes to me dreaming up my fantasy woman.
She has this long red hair that reminds me of copper glistening in the sun—my favorite shade. Her light green eyes remind me of the oceans surrounding an island on a beautiful sunny day. The water is clear and bright with a bright shade of emeralds sparkling on the surface of the sea.
Fuck.
I want to drown in her gaze if it means I get to experience those eyes on me.
Don’t get me started on the dash of freckles across the bridge of her nose. I want to trace them, connect them like constellations, and memorize the very placement of them on her face.
She has two small dimples when she smiles that pop on the corners of her mouth, and it took all I had not to kiss them during the meeting.
I’ve never met a woman who has captivated me like she has. My mind drifts back to the woman who messaged me by accident and how much fun she and I have had being complete strangers, sexting when the moment feels right.
Dr. Warrick’s assistant is young too, probably too young for me to ask out. I’m not sickened by the age gap—I’m bothered. Bothered because I remember being in my twenties. Being young, wild, a little too carefree, and that took most of my thirties to pay off. I’m beyond that now. I’m in a different part of my life. Women like Olivia are just starting out, just beginning to live their life, and what? She’s going to choose to date a guy who’s basically halfway done with his life?
I snort to myself. What fucking luck I have. The two women I’m interested in are too young for me.
Miss Wrong Number is someone I haven’t actually met. I don’t think stopping the sexting habit would be an issue, if that’s what I really wanted. But I’m not sure. Why stop a good thing? My mind drifts to Olivia, wondering if I asked her out, would she say yes?
That’s a bad idea. We’re coworkers. Even though we hardly see one another, relationships at the workplace are a bad idea.
Bad ideas are typically the best too, the ones that bring the most joy, the most lust, and the most happiness. Even if it is fleeting and possibly a regret, it’s better to try than to never try at all.
I’m glad Olivia took notes because sitting next to her had me forgetting every word spoken between Dr. Warrick and me. I shouldn’t have sat next to her in the conference room. Not that I could control the impulse to be close to her. It’s as if an invisible string was pulling me, forcing me to be as close as possible.
I didn’t kick her on accident. I wanted to be closer, to touch her in some way that wasn’t obvious. I didn’t miss the way she kept her foot against mine.
I’m going to have to stay as far away from Olivia as possible. No more meeting Dr. Warrick in his office. Not if it means she’s there. I won’t be able to focus.
Every part of her captivated me. The way she nibbled on her bottom lip when she wrote down the notes, or how her cheeks flushed when I would catch her stealing glances at me. I wonder if Dr. Warrick noticed our chemistry, because there was chemistry—a lot of it, so much that I still feel like I’m being swallowed by the sexually charged air that surrounded us.
“Wow. What turned your frown upside down?” Nurse Jackie tosses some paperwork on the desk. She leans her hip against the counter, arms crossed, a curious smile drifting over her lips to prove she won’t leave until she pries the truth out of me.
Nurse Jackie has been kind ever since she witnessed my own dad punching me in the face. She’s been trying to be my friend, I think.
It’s pathetic. I can’t remember the last time I had a friend. I’ve isolated myself away from people, away from their opinions and thoughts. For the longest time, stomaching the presence of anyone was a chore, and now I can’t tell when someone is being polite or if they are actually trying to be a friend.
I blink away my thoughts, standing straighter instead of leaning against the high counter where doctors and nurses come to congregate, drop files, charts, and chitchat.
“What?” I can’t remember what she asked.
She grins, her dark brown eyes swirling with mischief. “Did you meet someone?”
The truth is on the tip of my tongue. It would be nice to confide in someone else, someone who isn’t my own constantly negative state of mind.
I grin, shaking my head. “Why would I tell you that? Then, everyone would know.”
She pretends to be offended, pressing her hand against her chest. “Me? A gossip? I would never do that.”
I drop my chin and lift my eyes with a slight brow raise, giving her a look that says,Really? I don’t believe you.
