“Maybe we could go to your place,” she suggested. “Your parents will be at work, right?”
“Yeah,” I said carefully. “They’re at work, but Milly?—”
“Luke,” she interrupted. “Dr. Mackenzie basically said we could have sex.”
I almost crashed the car.
“I think it’s too soon, Milly,” I said hoarsely, although my body was telling me otherwise. “He said to take it easy for a week or two.”
“He said to do what I’m comfortable with,” she countered. “And I’ve missed you, Luke.”
“I’ve missed you too, Milly.”
“And I feel fine, really,” she insisted. “But if you think it’s too soon, we could do other stuff.”
In the two years we were together before going all the way, we’d gotten really good at other stuff.
“Okay.” I turned the car back toward my house andforced myself to drive carefully. It would have been a really bad time to get stopped for speeding.
We got back to my house, then up to my bedroom. On to my bed. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her, and I could taste the hunger on her lips. After two weeks without touching Melissa, I was hard within seconds. I pulled back a little, reminding myself that she’d had surgery only two weeks before, but she pressed herself closer. Her belly was soft against my erection, and it felt impossibly good.
My world shrank to this moment, this girl.
She pulled her shirt over her head, and her bra was plain white. No frills, no lace, just white cotton on creamy skin. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
Kevin Talbot’s voice jolts me back into the present. “But appendicitis isn’t that common, Dr. Carlton. Did you see a scar or something?”
“Of course not.” I’ve seen Melissa’s scars, of course, but I’ll never admit that to Kevin. He’d probably say I shouldn’t operate on her daughter, and he’d be right.
But he’s still looking at me skeptically.
“Come on, Kevin. When would I have seen her scars?”
“Maybe her shirt rose up a bit?” he suggests.
Great. Now he’s got me thinking about Melissa’s shirt lifting up. Specifically, I’m imagining lifting her shirt. I asked her to put on a scrub top because the outline of her bra was distracting, but the thought of lifting her shirt might short-circuit my brain.
“Her shirt didn’t rise up,” I say crisply to Kevin. “I don’t think we should be discussing a patient’s mother like this.”
“I—I’m sorry, Dr. Carlton,” he stammers. He’s clearly mortified, blushing so deeply that even the tips of his ears are red. “I wasn’t thinking of it that way.”
“I know you weren’t,” I say, forcing myself to smile at him. I feel like an ass for embarrassing him. He’s the type of student who’s book smart but struggles with social interactions, but I can’t blame him for being confused by this one.
THREE
MELISSA
It’s almost five o’clock—an hour and a half since Claire was wheeled into the operating room, and I’ve started to worry that something’s wrong. The other surgeries must be done, because Troy, Olivia, Liam and I are the only people left in the waiting room. I don’t even have my phone to distract me—I gave it to Liam so he could watch YouTube videos.
But I guess if I had my phone I’d be googling appendectomy complications, so maybe it’s better it stays with Liam.
But the waiting room doesn’t even have magazines, so my entertainment options are limited to staring at the wall, watchingPaw Patrolwith Liam, or watching Troy and Olivia. Troy’s sitting on the other side of Liam, glowering at his phone as his thumbs fly across the screen. No doubt he’s working on some critically important lawyer stuff. Beside him, Olivia’s holding her phone in one hand while her other rests casually on Troy’s thigh.
I still don’t know what to make of Olivia. When I first met her, I liked her well enough, but at that time she wasjust Claire’s figure skating instructor, not the other woman. That’s how Troy met her too, on a Saturday morning when Liam had the flu and I nagged him to take Claire to skating. I should have guessed something was up when Troy started offering to take Claire to all her skating lessons, since this was out of character for him.
So when they met, Olivia knew Troy had a family. But in her defense, apparently when Troy first asked her out, he told her that he and I were getting divorced. I guess he was right; I just didn’t know it at the time.
So although part of me would like to think Olivia’s a heartless bitch, there’s no doubt that Troy deserves most of the blame. For one thing, he was old enough to know better. Olivia was only twenty-one when they met last year, while Troy was thirty-four.
