“I don’t usually say things like that,” I add. “I notice. I just don’t announce.”
Celeste groans. “An ounce of shame, Madi. Just one.”
Dr. Lawson rolls a stool closer and helps me sit up, one steady hand at my back and the other bracing my arm.
“I’m Miss, by the way.”
He looks up. “Excuse me?”
“You said Mrs. I’m not married.”
The corner of his mouth tilts.
Success.
“So,MissMadison,” he continues, “can you tell me what happened?”
“Hot fucking yoga,” I slur.
“Hot yoga?”
“I went on a date,” I explain, waving a hand vaguely. “Third date. I shaved… everything. He took me to hot yoga.”
“I see,” he says. “And when did the pain start?”
“Somewhere between downward dog and losing my Zen.”
He nods and makes notes. “I want to get you into the MRI before we discharge you. Just to be thorough.”
“That’s fine, but afterwards, you’ll send me home with more drugs?”
“With more drugs,” he confirms.
I beam. “You’re my favorite doctor.”
He performs the same examinations as the previous doctor. All of them make me moan, just not in the wayI would like to with a man like him.
“Sharp pain?”
“Yes.”
“Numbness?”
“No.”
“Tingling?”
“Yes, but the nice kind.”
Emmy snorts.
“Can I ask you something?” I say, suddenly quieter.
“Of course.”
I swallow. “Is this… my age?”
He looks up again.
