Page 20 of Sexting My Ex’s Dad

I chuckle half-heartedly. “That’s generous.”

“He doesn’t understand the value of the things he’s given or realize how stupid he had to be to lose someone this gorgeous and good.”

My cheeks heat immediately. I swallow and force a small laugh that doesn’t feel convincing. “I’m fairly sure your son would disagree with that assessment.”

Nathan sighs. “My son makes a lot of mistakes.”

“And I clearly was one of them.”

He pushes away from the wall and strides toward me, the confidence in the movement making my pulse pick up in a moment of panic. I stay seated on the edge of the bed while he stops a few feet away.

“You were never a mistake,” he says.

I shake my head. “You’re being kind.”

“I’m being honest.”

His eyes drop briefly to my hands then back to my face.

“I saw you this morning in the hallway outside the pediatric wing,” he continues. “You were explaining an IV pump to a frightened six year old like it was the most important conversation in the world.”

“That’s my job.”

“You’re very good at it.”

Compliments from Nathan Clarke don’t arrive lightly. They also do dangerous things to my nervous system.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

He watches me for another moment before speaking again. “So, my phone got this message from you.”

The air leaves my lungs slowly while the humiliation I’ve been trying to suppress all morning surges back to life. “Oh god,” I mutter, pressing my hands over my face.

“Athena.”

“I am so sorry,” I say quickly. “That was not meant for you. I was drunk and angry and my life was falling apart and I clearly should never be allowed near a smartphone again.”

Nathan moves a little closer. “I know it wasn’t meant for me.”

I bite down on my lower lip to keep myself from screaming and look up at him reluctantly. “Then please forget you saw it.”

He shakes his head once. “I can’t.”

My heart stutters as I consider what he just said. “You should,” I say weakly.

“I should,” he agrees. His voice drops slightly. “But I won’t. In fact, it’s all I’ve been thinking about while waiting for you.”

My pulse pounds in my ears. “Why are you telling me this?”

His gaze doesn’t leave mine. “Because it forced me to admit something I’ve been ignoring for a long time.”

My pulse stutters. Of course it does. He says it in that maddeningly level voice, like he isn’t standing there dropping matches into a room already soaked in gasoline. For one ridiculous second all I can think is this is it, this is the moment some buried, humiliating fantasy claws its way into daylight and smiles at me.

My breath catches slightly. “And what is that?”

His expression barely shifts, but something in his eyes deepens, darkens. “That I’ve wanted you since the first day you walked into my department.”

The words hit low and hot.