She’s not dumb either. Grace has to know I’ll punish her for this. Professionally speaking, of course. I’m not actually allowed to punish her the way I’d like.
My comments about Tony must have really pissed her off this time.
Still, when you’re engaged to a total dipshit, douchebag who takes you for granted and is never around, you should learn to get used to people making disparaging comments about him. Even Oliver can’t stand the guy and Oliver generally likes everyone.
“That true, man?” Larry inquires, not bothering to hide his chuckle.
“Yes, it’s true, and now I’m one of the top surgeons and OB-GYNs in Boston that you” —I point at Grace— “have the pleasure of learning from and watching in action. Just wait till you see what I have in store for you tomorrow, Dr. Hammond.”
Grace peers up, likely to say something else that will boil my blood when pediatrics cuts us both off. “Five-minute APGAR is six. We’re moving the baby up to the NICU. Have someone page us when mom is awake.”
They roll out and we finish our surgery, everyone quiet as the team works, the tension in the room so thick you could cut it with a scalpel. Just as Grace finishes the last stitch, I turn and march out of the room, tearing off my surgical gear and going straight for the sink to scrub out.
Then I slink back, tucked in the corner along the shadows.
Two minutes later Grace comes out, glances around and when she doesn’t spot me, she sighs. In relief or regret, I cannot tell, but she goes for the sink, rolling her neck until it pops as she begins to scrub out. And when her hands are lathered in soap, and she has nowhere else to go, I move in behind her, towering over her with my height. I take a deep inhale, marveling how she still manages to smell sweet and clean after a day spent in the hospital and my cock twitches in my scrubs.
She feels me behind her, not touching her but merely inches away, and she stiffens. “I thought you’d gone.”
“Not quite yet,” I whisper, my lips dipping down till they’re hovering by her ear, watching as goose bumps dance across her neck. “Pull another stunt like that and I’ll have you running scut along with the interns for the rest of your residency. As it is, tomorrow you’re on postpartums. No surgeries.”
“Carter—”
“The proper response is yes, Dr. Fritz. Anything else is completely unacceptable.”
“Yes, Dr. Fritz,” she grits out through clenched teeth, and I grin, making sure she feels it on my lips. That’s how stupidly close I am to her right now. So stupidly close I feel her sharp intake of breath and quickly force myself to get control and step back.
I shouldn’t have done that.
Each time I give in just an inch, I lose ground on forcing her into her neat and tidy role in my life. Brother’s best friend. Resident. Engaged.
Off-motherfucking-limits.
“Good work in there, Doctor. Keep it up and I will take you out for that steak.”
With that, I turn and leave the hospital, needing to clear my head. Clear it of her.
Because that’s all I can ever do with her. Even when the desire for more is growing increasingly unbearable.
2
Pressing my back into the wall, I straighten my spine while adjusting the phone against my ear. My back is freaking killing me and if I don’t take a moment to relax and realign myself, bad things can happen. I know that firsthand.
“What time do you think you’ll be home?” I ask Tony, closing my eyes and doing my deep breathing exercises.
“I have no idea. You know how long these stupid dinners can go. Especially when they turn into drinks afterward. I’m just hoping before the bars close.”
I grin at the way he says that. Like he hates it when he actually loves it. Tony is nothing if not the life of the party. He loves the dinners and drinks after. He loves schmoozing clients and networking. If he hadn’t become a lawyer, he would have been a brilliant salesman.
“What about you?”
“Not late. You know me. It’s just some drinks and dinner with the girls.”
“Drinks?” he presses, concern in his voice.
I lean my head back against the wall and take another deep breath. “Just one and I’ll nurse it. It’s been a long week and I don’t want to push anything.”
“That’s why I worry about you having a drink.
Have you had any auras like the one you had last week?”
“No, but I’ve been doing my deep breathing and eating well and whenever I can sleep, I have been. I’m fine.”
What Tony means by auras are actually focal awareness seizures and with me, they tend to be a precursor to a tonic-clonic seizure or what used to be referred to as grand mal seizures. Tony hasn’t actually ever seen me have one. Hence why the man sounds nervous now. Then again, I haven’t had one in four years, almost to the day. My last was on my birthday when I got wasted with friends in medical school. Oliver saved my ass that night and I woke up in the hospital with his stony face right in mine.
It was stupid. I knew better. Too much alcohol, too much caffeine, too little sleep, too much stress—whatever bad thing you can throw at your body—always triggers my epilepsy.
Since then I’ve put myself on a strict regimen. Very little alcohol. Regular—when I can get it—sleep. And when I can’t, relaxation techniques, medication, yoga, stretches, exercise, whatever I have to do to keep my mind and body balanced. Managing my menstrual cycles—hormones were nasty fuckers during adolescence and I’m not talking about with my moods or my skin.
“Did that asshole, Carter, actually put you on scut all day?”
Yeah, there isn’t a lot of love between Carter and Tony. Not a lot of love between Tony and any of my friends, for that matter. Tony likes to put off the alpha male, she’s mine and no one else can have her vibe when he’s around people. But with me, he’s a sweet, loving teddy bear.
I snort out a laugh. “Of course, he did. I embarrassed him in the OR. There was no way he was going to let me get away with that. Today was my penance.”
“I still don’t understand your thing with him.”
“He’s my attending. My boss, for lack of a better term, but he’s also Oliver’s older brother and has known me since birth. It makes for a weird dynamic.”
“As long as that’s all it makes for.”
I smirk, pushing away from the wall and checking my watch. “You have nothing to worry about. I gotta go shower if I’m going to meet up with the girls.”
“Okay. I have to roll out too. Have fun tonight. I’ll try not to wake you when I come in. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I disconnect the call, slipping my phone back into my pocket, and glance down the hall toward the nurses’ station. I can hear some of them laughing, Carter’s voice present as the ringleader, and I roll my eyes. I bet he’s not even saying anything funny. He’s like all the Fritz men, and there are five of them.
Smart. Sexy. Charismatic. Gorgeous beyond all sin and reason. Those bastards can make a woman’s panties wet with a simple glance or quirk of their lips.
Women swoon while swarming around them.
Men too for that matter.