I’m watching my third Mexican soap opera in a row when Christopher walks in. My Spanish is a little rusty, and I can’t tell why the characters on the tiny screen are so upset. Either the leading girl is having an affair or she’s a robot. Either way, she’s got big tits and I’m riveted.

“How’s my favorite client?” Christopher asks when he walks in.

“Bored,” I answer as I turn off the TV. This place is only exciting when sexy Dr. Mendes is in the room. The rest of the time, I’m either dreaming of her dark blond hair and olive skin or counting the ceiling tiles. There’s thirty-eight of them, if you’re wondering.

But tonight is going to be anything but boring. I have a hot date with the hot doctor, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it. All ten of them.

“I brought you an iPad,” Christopher says, reaching into his bag. “There are some movies on it for you to watch.”

“Thanks,” I say as I take it. I’ve never been one to sit back and watch TV. I’ve always had way too much energy for that. I’ve always liked to spend any spare time that I have flying around on a bike, but it might be a while before I get to do that again, so maybe I’ll try to watch some movies for a change.

“No balloons this time?” I ask with a chuckle.

He laughs. “I was going to bring you flowers, but I thought you’d throw them back in my face.”

“You thought right,” I say with a grin.

He’s nervous. I can tell it right away by the way he keeps scraping his hand through his hair and shifting from foot to foot.

“What is it?”

Christopher eyes the exit before looking at me. “I just checked on your hospital tab,” he says. “It’s high.”

I cringe. “How much?”

“One hundred and seventy thousand.”

I drop my head back on the pillow feeling like I got punched in the gut. $170,000. I’m so fucked.

I’ve made a good share of money during my motocross career, but the sport itself isn’t cheap. I’ve had to buy bikes and equipment, fly my crew around the world for championships, pay medical bills, and of course there’s the lifestyle that comes along with it: nightclubs, girls, expensive trips, girls, designer clothes, girls, limos, girls, private jets, girls, and girls, girls, and more girls.

Add in a bunch of bad investments from my genius manager over there, and it’s not just my spine that’s in bad shape. My bank account is going to be in the negative when I get out. By a lot.

I take a deep breath as I stare at the wall. “Sign me up for Moxie.”

Christopher jerks his head back. “You sure? It’s only three and a half months away.”

“I’m sure,” I say, trying to convince myself that I’m really sure. The Moxie Energy Drink Championships has a grand prize of a million dollars. If I can heal up and get there, I know I can get on the podium and come home with one of those oversized checks.

“It isn’t a broken arm this time,” Christopher says. “This is your spine. Maybe we should skip Moxie. You don’t want to end up in a wheelchair, do you?”

“I don’t want to end up in a homeless shelter either,” I say as I rub the stubble on my chin. That reminds me, I have to shave before my date tonight.

“I have another idea,” he says, stepping forward.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I hold my breath. “This better not be what I think it is.”

“You could sue the hospital,” he says.

“What?”

Christopher pulls a stack of printed papers from his bag. “I was doing some research on your doctor,” he says. “She was sued by a patient in New York for negligence. We can do the same thing.”

“Negligence?” I say, staring at him with disbelief. I wish I was back to my full strength so I could put him through a wall. “Dr. Mendes has been great.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says trying to shove the papers into my hands. I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him instead. “She’s already been tagged as a negligent doctor. We can sue for a million and settle for your hospital bill.”

“And what happens to her?” I ask as heat flushes through my body. This guy might be one of my oldest friends, but that doesn’t mean I won’t knock him out.

He shrugs. “She’s a doctor. She’ll be fine. Just look at the papers. I talked to a lawyer and everything.”

“Put those back in the bag,” I say slowly, enunciating every word carefully so he doesn’t misunderstand me. “That is not an option.”

He sighs as his shoulders droop down. “But—”

“Drop it,” I say, glaring at him with such intensity that he doesn’t say another word.

I’m still shaking my head as he shoves the papers back into his bag. He stays for a few awkward minutes and then thankfully leaves.

There’s no way I would do that to Madison. I’d rather sleep under a highway overpass for the rest of my life, which may be a possibility if I don’t heal up by the time Moxie rolls around.

But it does make me curious as to what happened in New York. Madison was sued? For negligence?

She’s so intelligent and is extremely professional. I can’t imagine her doing anything that is sue-worthy.

The more I think about her, the more I get excited about our date. I only have ten minutes with her, which means I have to be mobile for tonight. I can’t waste any time limping down the hallways.

With a grunt, I swing my legs off the bed and struggle to get up. Time to stake out the hospital. My date is in a few hours, and I have to be ready. It’s not every day that I get to go out with a smart, talented girl like Madison. I really want it to go well.

I grit my teeth as I force my heavy legs to walk to the door. It doesn’t take long before they’re nice and loose, although my back is killing me with an incessant throbbing that doesn’t seem to be going away.

Yeah. That’s what happens when you fly three stories into the air and land directly on it.

I’m chuckling to myself as I slip into the hallway and walk down the hall.

“Hey!” my neighbor calls out when I pass his open door. “You’re Shane Winters!”

I turn and see a smiling old man lying in a hospital bed. I like this guy already.

“You like motocross?” I ask, stepping into the room.

“Oh, yeah,” he says with a nod. “Big fan. I saw you win second place at the EXXXtreme Motocross Championship last year. I thought you should have finished in first.”

Now I really like this guy!

“We agree on something,” I say with a laugh. I walk over to his bed and hold out my hand. “Shane Winters, obviously.”

“Walter Thatcher,” he says, shaking my hand. “Didn’t this year’s EXXXtreme Motocross Championship just pass?”

I nod.

“How did you do?” he asks.

I look down at my hospital gown and grin. “How do you think?”

He laughs. “That bad, huh?”

“That bad.” I tell him all about my failed Kamikaze Twister, and his face winces when I get to the landing.

“You’ll get ‘em next year.”

I pull up a chair and sit beside him. “What are you in here for? Dirt bike accident too?”

“I wish,” he says with a laugh. “Those days are long gone. I don’t know what I have. The doctors are having trouble diagnosing me.”

“You with Dr. Mendes?”

He nods. “She’s the best. I’ve been to about a dozen doctors who all ran a few tests and then sent me home, saying it’s all in my head. But Dr. Mendes is determined to figure it out. She’s a good one.”

She’s a good one all right. And I have a date with her.

We talk some more, and he tells me about his daughter getting married next week and a bit about his job. He’s the head marketing manager of Drive Computers—a new computer company based in Seattle.

I’m about to ask him for a job application when my sexy doctor walks in giving me the evil eye.

“Mr. Winters,” she says, crossing her arms over her perky breasts as she glares at me. “I don’t recall giving you permission to leave your room. Am I going to have to handcuff you to the bed?”

I say goodbye to Walter as I stand up. She’s all fire and brimstone in her eyes, but I’ve gotten under her skin. She wouldn’t be reacting this strongly if she didn’t like me.

“Good idea,” I whisper as I walk by her. “Bring those handcuffs to our date tonight.”

She spins on her heels and glares at me, but her cheeks are turning red. Tonight is definitely going to be fun.

“Out,” she says, pointing at the door. “No more walking around. You have to conserve your energy.”

“Don’t worry,” I whisper to her as she helps me out the door. “I’ll have lots of energy for tonight.”

“Maybe I should prescribe you a sedative,” she says with a grin. “I don’t want you too excited.”

“You say that now,” I say as she grabs the handle of the door, about to close it in my face. “I think you’ll be singing a different tune later.”

“I highly doubt it.”

“Eleven o’clock,” I say with a grin as she swings the door closed. “Don’t be late.”

I see her cheeks flush a bright red as the door slams shut.

Wow. She’s the ultimate package. Hot enough to stop a heart and smart enough to restart it.

And tonight, she’s all mine.

For ten minutes.