Chapter 10

Josie

I flip briefly through the chart of the forty-two-year-old woman in exam room seven. Acute chest pain, slightly elevated blood pressure, and a normal EKG and chest X ray.

Pushing through the partially closed curtain, I offer the patient a reassuring smile. “Hello, Mrs. Adams, how are you feeling?”

Her face is flushed and pinched in pain. “My chest still really hurts.”

The nurse had already given her 0.3 milligrams of nitro, which clearly wasn’t working. Setting the chart down on the small roll table beside the bed, I place my hand on her shoulder. “I’m just going to examine you and then I’m going to order an ultrasound of your gallbladder.”

“My gallbladder?” she asks in surprise through clenched teeth. She’s clearly hurting.

I nod with a sympathetic pat to her shoulder, pulling the stethoscope from around my neck. “We had suspected you might have angina, but since the nitro didn’t alleviate your pain, I’d like to rule out gallstones. They can cause some referred chest pain.”

Mrs. Adams lays her head back against her pillow and grimaces. “I don’t care what you do to me, just make this pain stop.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of it, I promise,” I tell her, doing something I should never do. Promise to fix a problem I’m not sure what the root cause is, but still…she needs something to keep her grounded.

I perform a quick examination and order the ultrasound. I then check on my patient with the copperhead bite in exam room four, followed by an asthma attack in eight. It’s been a good day in the emergency room, which means the cases have been interesting and plentiful and there’s no time to think about other things.

Like Reed.

Sexy, funny, sweet, and did I say sexy Reed?

My friend.

Now my lover.

God, this is confusing and I’m second-guessing everything. I’ve been having regrets and ugly thoughts since I left his town home early this morning to make a quick dash over to mine to get an even quicker shower. I wondered when I walked into work this morning if people knew I’d had morning sex with a hot-as-hell professional hockey player who went from friend to sex partner in a nanosecond. I wondered if I looked as unsure of myself as I felt.

Luckily I jumped right into case after case, barely having time to pee much less contemplate how our relationship changed so drastically.

Until now, when I actually have fifteen minutes where I can get a very late lunch. I walk quickly to the cafeteria and grab a tuna sandwich and a bottle of water. After I snag an empty booth, I nibble on my sandwich while I check my texts.

Not surprisingly, there’s one from Reed right at the top. I see Sutton Crossman sent me one below his, and I choose to read that first. I’m not ready to see what Reed has to say, which could range from a “let’s make plans to have sex tonight” to “I really regret what we did last night.”

And this morning. I wonder if he regrets this morning.

Ugh.

I open Sutton’s text and try to concentrate on her words. Since I handled the early part of her labor, I guess you could say a sort of bond was formed. A friendship for sure, although we haven’t seen each other since that day. She’s been busy being a new mom, and I’m just plain busy, and when I’m not busy, I’m apparently having sex with my neighbor.

I have a gift for you, her text says. Wondering when we can get together. I can come over your way.

My lips curve up. Sutton and I have talked by phone a few times, starting out just with more of her effusive thanks and morphing into an actual friendship as she chattered away at me about the baby. She and Alex had a girl, which they already knew, and they had named her Rose.

I shoot a quick text back to her. I think you have it backward. You just had the baby. I should be giving you a gift, which I promise I have on my agenda to do.

Sutton shoots me back a laughing emoji. You’re adorable. When is your next day off?

Tomorrow, actually, I write back.

Can I come by in the morning? At 10 a.m.? I won’t stay long, as I know you probably want to relax on your day off. I’ll have Rose with me.

My mind immediately tries to calculate if I will have time to run out for a baby gift after work tonight, knowing that I will be cutting it close by the time I get out of here. But then I remember…I work in a freaking hospital with a maternity ward, and the gift shop is filled with appropriate stuff.

I grin as I shoot her back a text. Sure. See you then.

We have a little more back and forth to give her my address and Sutton promises to bring bagels for breakfast. I want to tell her my hips won’t appreciate them, but I don’t. I love a good bagel.

My sandwich is finished by the time our conversation is over, and I turn reluctantly to Reed’s text. I brace for the worst and hope for the best, but I’m not quite sure what I think the best or worst could be. I know I had a damn good time with him last night and this morning, and despite feeling a tiny bit awkward about being in his bed, it was some amazing, freaking sex. Like toe curling, mind blowing, and I’m ruined for any other type of sex.

Let me just say: Reed Olson has it going on in that department.

I suck in my breath and hold it in my lungs as I read his text. Just checking in to see how your day is going. Had a great time last night, better time this morning, want to make it even better tonight. Tell me what you want for dinner and I’ll have it waiting for you at my house when you get off work.

The air seeps out of me slowly as I take in his words. His sweet, reaffirming words.

He doesn’t regret last night apparently and wants more.

I want to accept that, but doubts keep plaguing me as I read his text over and over again.

What if he’s just scratching an itch?

What if I’m just a challenge to him?

What if he’s in a dry spell and can’t find an available Barbie?

What if, what if, what if.

There are so many ways I could respond to Reed. I could take him at face value and tell him I’d love to see him tonight. I could play it safe and tell him I’m too tired, which means that I won’t let this go any further.

Or, I could be a glutton for punishment and let my doubts possibly make this very weird.

Yes, that’s what I’ll do.

So I text him back. What is this we have going on?

I cringe internally as soon as I send the message, then nibble on my thumb while I wait for his reply. It could come any moment or it could be hours from now, because he could be busy doing something.

My heart nearly explodes when I hear the chime of his response before I see the actual words. I hold my breath again as I read his text. This is me, being interested in you.

Hmmmm. That’s kind of vague.

Like the way you’re interested in Barbies? I write back.

His response is almost immediate and produces a flushed warmth in my body. How do you feel about being spanked in bed? Because that’s what I’m going to do if you compare yourself to one of my Barbies again.

Okay, I get a little sidetracked. All sorts of dirty thoughts about Reed and him taking his palm to my ass. Would that be over his lap? While I’m on my hands and knees? Naked or clothed?

Another chime breaks my attention and I see Reed’s texted me again. You’re thinking about me spanking you, right?

No, I was not thinking that, I write back, and hope the speed with which I respond makes him believe me.

It takes a few moments to get a response. Quit second-guessing and take me at face value. We’re friends, Josie. The benefits are very good. So good I don’t need benefits from anyone else. Your benefits are the only ones I’m interested in. Okay?

This relieves me and I know it to be true because it feels like a weight comes off my chest. Reed wants me. Wants to continue to see me. And we’re still friends. He’s also clarifying that what we have is casual but monogamous, and the casual appeals to me. I don’t have time for more than that, but more important, I don’t have capacity for anything more. Aiden broke me, and I don’t ever want to feel that way again about a man.

As long as we keep this light and fun with an emphasis on the friendship—well, an emphasis on the benefits—this should work out fine.

Okay, I text him back. See you for dinner tonight. Should be home by 9 p.m.

Looking forward to it, he replies. A lot.

Me too, Reed. Me too.

And because the weight is off and the awkwardness has been alleviated, I feel a wave of friskiness wash over me. I hesitate for only a moment before I write, And I’m not averse to spanking. Let me know if I actually need to do something to earn it.

I chew on my lip nervously while I await his response. When I get it, I’m well rewarded.

My palm is already twitching, Doc. Get ready.

God…the rest of this shift is going to go by so slowly now.