Chapter 1
I arrived at the bar before Emma, grabbed us a booth, and ordered some cocktails while I waited for her.
Five minutes later, Emma strutted in on five–inch heels, rocking smoky cat–eye makeup and a dress that left little to the imagination. She slid into the booth and immediately reached for a drink.
I leaned in, eager for gossip. “So what’s the deal with you and my brother?” That’s what makes us best friends, one question, and she’s already raising an eyebrow back at me.
“What about you and my brother?” she countered.
Classic Emma. Always giving as good as she gets.
I sighed deeply. “He won’t sleep with me.”
Emma and I got our marriage licenses just a day apart. At first, I only knew she had a doctor brother, but I had no idea what he looked like.
Then I developed a lump in my breast and needed a medical exam. Emma was worried about some creepy older doctor feeling me up, so she specifically called her young, handsome brother to see me. I thought, “How handsome could he be?”
I was about to eat those words.
The hospital smelled of antiseptic and floor cleaner, and the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as I sat nervously in the examination room, my fingers fidgeting with the thin paper gown they’d given me. The door opened, and when Dr. Nathan Gray walked in, my heart literally skipped a beat, like, I actually felt it stutter in my
chest.
Holy shit, this can’t be legal. Doctors aren’t supposed to look like THIS. When I saw his face, time seemed to slow down. The way his dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, how his strong jawline tensed as he reviewed my chart… My mouth went dry. Even with his mask on, those penetrating blue–gray eyes caught mine, and I suddenly felt naked and not just because of the flimsy gown.
Get it together, Parker. He’s about to examine your breast, for God’s sake. Don’t
turn this into a Pornhub scenario.
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But I couldn’t help it. With his mask on, only his piercing blue eyes were visible, but I knew with absolute certainty that every inch of his body hidden under that white coat would be exactly what gets me going. The way the fabric stretched across his shoulders as he washed his hands at the sink… Jesus Christ.
As his gloved hands gently examined my breast, I tried to control my breathing. The clinical setting couldn’t dampen the electricity I felt at his touch. When his
fingers brushed over my sensitive skin, I had to bite my lip to keep from making an embarrassing sound.
“Does this hurt?” he asked professionally, his voice low.
“No,” I whispered, hoping he couldn’t feel my racing heart. “It feels… fine.”
After the appointment, I immediately asked Emma to give me his number.
She warned me that her brother was pretty reserved.
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I confidently told her that no one could resist my charm and good looks. Then, I got brutally humbled.
During my pursuit, I flirtatiously texted Nathan: “Hey Dr. Gray, what did you have for dinner tonight?
”
He replied a day later: “Didn’t have pizza. Had lasagna yesterday.”
I was like: “…..”
་་
Frustrated with texting, I went for a face–to–face approach and had Emma arrange for us to see a movie together.
The AMC theater was packed for the new horror film, some slasher movie with terrible reviews but great jump scares. Perfect for my plan. We sat in the back row, the darkness enveloping us as the preview’s ended. The smell of buttery popcorn filled the air, and I purposely placed our shared container on my lap so his fingers would occasionally brush against my thigh when he reached for some.
This is it, Parker. Operation Seduce The Doctor is a go.
On screen, a masked killer stalked through a darkened house. Nathan watched with clinical detachment, of course he would, he probably saw worse things at the hospital daily. Meanwhile, I was planning my move, my heart hammering harder
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than the poor victim’s in the film.
When the killer jumped out, I let out a perfectly timed “Eek!” and launched myself against Nathan’s chest. His body was firm, warm, and I could feel his heartbeat
quicken slightly.
So he’s not completely made of stone after all.
When he looked down at me, I caught a whiff of his cologne, something expensive and subtle that made my insides clench. I batted my eyelashes and delivered my
rehearsed line: “My chest still feels a little sore, Dr. Gray… maybe your hands could
make it feel better?” I even arched my back slightly, pressing against his arm. I thought my voice had just the right amount of breathy vulnerability, like those
actresses in the steamy Netflix shows who sound so innocent but are clearly DTF.
In my head, this was the moment he’d growl and pull me closer, maybe even suggest we find somewhere more private.
The tension between us was electric, his silver–rimmed glasses catching the light from the screen, those swirling dark eyes studying me. For a second, I thought he
might actually kiss me,his pupils dilated, and his gaze dropped to my lips. Instead, the next second, he stiffly pushed me away, creating a good six inches of space between us. The rejection felt like ice water down my back.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he said, “Ms. Parker, let’s just watch the damn movie.
Otherwise, we’re wasting our money.”
5
