“Does he know you and Thad aren’t together anymore?”
I consider her question for a brief moment. It had never occurred to me that he might not. Anyone who knew me before now knew in an instant that something was different. Ginny and I had stayed in touch over the years while I was gone, so she knew the day after I ended it with Thad. I guess I assumed everyone knew.
“I suppose that’s possible. But still, just because he had a hate-on for Thad doesn’t explain why he has one for me.”
“It’s obvious, Heids. He’s obsessed with you.”
When I first confessed to Skye that my boss was treating me like garbage, she instantly asked what he looked like. I guess my telltale blush gave it away because she managed to get me to confess his attractiveness, and we looked him up on the hospital staff directory. After that, she refused to hear any of my complaints.
“He’s not obsessed with me, Skye. He hates me.”
“Girl, there’s a fine line between love and hate. You make him want things. Things he probably shouldn’t want and doesn’twantto want. All I’m saying is, there must be more to his story than what he’s showing you. You’re not exactly the kind of person to inspire hatred.”
“That’s absolutely ridiculous. I’m telling you right now, the man is not attracted to me, he hates me. I just want to know what I did to deserve that.”
“Thad was an asshole. You know it now, maybe this guy knew it back then. I’m not saying it was fair for him to judge you based only on who you were with, or that it’s right for him to continue giving you crap when you aren’t even with douchebag Thad, but guys are idiots, after all.”
“Stop making sense.” I take a sip of my wine, giving her a wink that says I appreciate her logic. It’s true, Skye is seeing things differently and that’s helpful, if I’m honest with myself.
“Okay, or maybe he’s one of those guys whose own code won’t let him mix business with pleasure. And maybe you’re the first woman to ever tempt him to break his own code, and that’s what is making him angry. He’s pushing you away because he hates himself for wanting you. Oh my God, but then, one day his restraint will snap, and he’s gonna fuck you in the storage room. This has forbidden romance written all over it.”
That’s a mental image I won’t soon forget. Forcing myself not to dwell on it, I pick up the half-empty bottle of La Lune Rouge Viognier, lean over, and refill Skye’s wine glass. “You’ve been reading way too many romance novels, my friend. That kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life.”
Skye actually pouts. “You’re no fun.”
My eyes roll up. “Sorry if my idea of fun doesn’t include sexual relations with my jerk of a boss.”
“I dunno, I hear hate sex is hot.”
“For the last time, he isn’t attracted to me,” I say, exasperated that she won’t let this go.
“We might be in our thirties, but most men still act as if we’re on a school playground. ‘Pull her pigtails if you like her’ kind of bullshit. All I’m saying is, maybe he’s one of those twat-waffles who doesn’t understand doing that was basically harassment. Maybe he needsyouto whip him into shape.”
I snort-laugh at her insane thought process as I shake my head, my hands plucking at the fringe on the throw pillow I’m holding. “That’s not it. He gave his brother shit earlier for being too flirtatious with me. He’s not a pigtail pulling kind of guy.”
Setting down her glass, Skye throws her hands up in the air. “Well, fine. I have no freaking clue why he’s being an idiot. You’re a catch. A total hottie, a badass nurse turned incredible doctor, and there is zero reason for him to hate you.”
“Thanks, I think,” I say drily.
“You’re welcome. So, it’s settled then. He wants you but doesn’t want to want you. So he’s pushing you away by being mean. I’m thinking you go on the offense and start dressing a little bit sexier, start leaning in closer, push him over the line so he can’t hold back.”
“You’re drunk if you really think I would ever do that.” I toss the pillow at Skye, narrowly missing the wine glass. “Can we please talk about anything other than Max Donnelly?”
“Fine,” Skye huffs. “But when you text me and tell me you just boned him in a storage room, I get to say I told you so.”
“Not gonna happen.”
I take a long sip of my wine.
“Mark my words, someday it will.” Skye lifts her glass to me. “Because, as previously stated, you’re a hottie and a badass.”
I lift my glass and clink it with hers. “Thank you.”
“So, what are the chances of finding somewhere for a pedicure tomorrow? Oh, and then you have to take me to Dogwood Cove. I want to visit this café I saw in a travel blog; Camille’s, I think it’s called?”
“Deal,” I reply softly. I needed this, some time with my best friend, away from the pressures of the hospital — and Max.
Skye and I have been friends ever since high school, when she moved in down the street from my family, and we ended up as lab partners in chemistry. She hated science, so I offered to help, and we bonded that weekend over study notes and brownies. We’ve been there for each other through boyfriends and bad haircuts, prom nights and sneaking into bars underage. She supported me moving to the island years ago, helping me pick out an apartment and everything. When Thad and I started dating, she told me she wasn’t sure about him. It was the one time I didn’t listen to her opinion.
