Is he…flirting with me? I wonder briefly as I stare back at him and begrudgingly admit that he’s even more handsome out of scrubs.
Life is a cruel, cruel bitch today.
“Why the hell do you think I’d be exceptional at tasting ass?” I stand to gain some leverage. Sadly, even with my heels on, I’m still only eye level with his chest.
Stupid, giant, asshole doctor with really long, pretty fingers.
“Excuse me,” Max interjects as the jerk and I stare murderously at one another. “But do you two know each other?”
I grit my teeth. “You could say that.”
The doctor laughs. “After today, I know enough.”
“Good grief.” I lick my lips at how self-righteous he’s being after walking in here only sixty seconds ago. “Are you going to tell me I’m not allowed to sit in a public bar now too?”
He quirks a challenging brow. “It depends if you’re going to be a good girl or a bad girl.”
The way he stares into my eyes as he says bad girl sends that anxious shiver through me again. I swear I want to spank myself for being so weak in his presence.
Spank myself? What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I having a stroke?
I open my mouth to say something but decide to hold back because this guy doesn’t need to know he’s affecting me. That’s exactly what he wants. He wants me to make a scene and lose my cool again. Because I was totally cool before he came in here with all his unwanted hotness.
Crap. He’s still holding my hand.
Scowling, I try to yank it out of his grip. He tightens in response, and his eyes dance with mirth like the smug Dr. Dick he is.
I huff a noise and try extracting my hand again. He pulls me in close, and I stumble forward, my free hand landing on his left pec to stop myself from falling against his body. His chest is rock hard beneath his black suit jacket, and his pale blue button-down is open a button, revealing smooth and most likely muscled skin. His spicy aftershave hits my nostrils, and I’m unnerved as my legs tremble.
His eyes wander to my neckline, and without a word, he touches a strand of my hair while I hold my breath and await his next move.
I nearly melt into a puddle of swoony girlie goo until I realize that the dick has just plucked a kernel of popcorn out of my hair and dropped it on the bar floor with as much disdain as he would for finding a speck of dust on his pristine mantel at home.
His voice is teasing when he asks, “Hope you weren’t saving that for later.”
Finally, he releases me.
Max says, “Forgive my friend, Josh, here. I’m afraid he has a chronic case of dickholeitis. But thankfully, he’s a doctor, so he’s working on a cure.”
Dr. Dick, aka Josh, forces a smile but continues to stare at me as Dean moves in, turning his back to him so he can whisper, “Is this the guy from the cafeteria?”
I nod, jaw clenched as I glower at the aggravating human in question.
“We need to go,” I say crisply.
Before I make an even bigger fool out of myself than I already have. Why does this man have to ruin all my good feels today?
Dean exhales and seems to scramble for his words. “Fuck, I, um…”
Max’s voice interrupts Dean’s freak-out. “Well, Dean, it seems these two have some catching up to do. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink? I want to run some business ideas by you, and talking business is always more fun with whiskey.”
Max grabs Dean around the shoulders, leading him down the bar a few seats. Dean shoots me an apologetic look but manages to mouth, “I’m sorry!” before leaving me to fend for myself.
With a heavy sigh, I drop onto my stool to look for the bartender. I need that third drink more than I need to draw my next breath. Shockingly, Dr. Dick takes Dean’s empty stool.
“I thought I was going to have to do the Heimlich maneuver on you when we first arrived.” His voice is every bit as pompous and arrogant as it was at the cafeteria. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “Then I realized who you were and figured you were probably faking it.”
My teeth crack as I clench them and stare straight ahead. “You don’t even know me.”
He turns on his stool to face me full on. “I know that you like hospital cafeterias and apparently tasting assholes. That’s plenty to make a general assessment with.”
My eyes fly wide. “God, you are so full of yourself! I can’t tell if it’s you or that horrible beer making my stomach churn…but if I had to guess, I’d say it’s you.”
The doctor’s eyes alight with amusement. “There you go, feigning another illness.”
“Shut up,” I exclaim and then smack the bar to get the bartender’s attention. He finally looks up and apologetically begins extracting himself from the blonde.
“What can I get you?” he drawls, clearly annoyed the nerve I have for interrupting him.
“Another Birds and Bees, please.”
Dr. Dick chuckles softly beside me. “I’ll have a whiskey. Neat. And put hers on my tab. I’m feeling charitable tonight.”
My head snaps to him. “I don’t need your charity, pal. In fact, I’m working on forgetting you and I ever met.”
He fights to hide his enjoyment. “Amnesia now? What ailment will you come up with next?”
A tiny growl rips its way up my throat. “What is your problem anyway? You just look for people to torment for the fun of it? Don’t you have a patient to go kill or something?”
Suddenly, his amused expression falls away, and his eyes hood into thin slits. The atmosphere shifts, and I could almost swear the lights turn more red. I open my mouth to apologize, but the bartender appears to place our drinks in front of us. Without a word, Josh grabs the glass tumbler and tips all the amber liquid down his throat in one fell swoop.
He nods to the bartender for another. He tightens his grip around his empty glass, the muscle in his square jaw ticking as he watches the bartender fill his glass back up. As soon as he’s done, Josh stands and walks away without so much as a look back at me or the bartender.
Holy shit, what just happened?
One minute, he’s going at me full force with a hint of flirty amusement in his tone, and the next, he completely shuts down and goes mute? Was my joke really that horrible?
Why am I even trying to figure out what I did wrong to a man who is so clearly socially dysfunctional?
Then again, despite what this guy thinks of me, I’m not a bad person. In fact, I’m normally pretty kind when I’m not being treated like a petulant toddler in need of a spanking.
There I go with the spanking again! God, I need to get laid!
With a heavy sigh, I search my purse for my phone.
This night is turning out just as disastrous as the day. I pull up the Uber app so I can go home and curl up in my bed.
Dean bellows, “Lynsey, what are you doing?”
I huff an indignant grunt. “I’m calling an Uber.”
“You can’t leave! We’re celebrating!” He drops onto the empty stool.
“No, we’re not. You’re schmoozing, and I’m getting my ass handed to me by Dr. Dick,” I argue, trying to shake off Dean’s grip on my arm. Asshole should be ashamed for abandoning me. “I just want to go home.”
“No, Lyns,” Dean groans, his dark eyes wide and pleading. “You can’t leave yet. Max wants to talk to me about a local bakery he thinks I should invest in with him. He thinks we can franchise it and go national. This is exactly the kind of investment I’ve been looking for, and Max is the kind of partner I need for this. Please don’t leave. Come sit and have a drink with us…I think maybe you’re misunderstanding Josh. Max says they’ve known each other since they were kids, and Max would never be friends with an asshole.”