Crush - Kelsie Rae Page 0,28

roast beef and mashed potatoes dinner. Unfortunately, it turns to sawdust as soon as it touches my tongue.

“Ya know, if you’d actually take my advice once in a while, I might stop bringing it up every time I see you,” Krista reminds me.

Through my mouthful of food, I mumble, “This could use a little salt.”

“Meh. You’re salty enough as it is. I’m gonna go turn off Disney+. Enjoy your next three minutes of freedom before I let the monsters loose.”

“I’ll synchronize our watches,” I quip before taking another bite of mashed potatoes. They’re pretty good and are seasoned pretty damn perfectly too. Just like how Kate used to make them.

Swallowing, I set my fork down.

Suddenly, I’m not that hungry anymore.

12

Ben

The silence is comfortable as I go to take a bite of my lunch before Tracey’s voice breaks it. “Have you spoken with Marcy yet?”

“Not yet,” I mutter before taking a bite of my turkey sandwich.

“I’m telling you, she’d be perfect for the job. I’ve seen her work, Dr. Bennett. The girl is talented.”

“I’m sure she is, and I’ll talk with her later today at her appointment, okay?”

“She’s in room four right now.”

“What? I thought I had a few––” I bite my tongue and rephrase my comment. “I thought she wasn’t going to be here until four or so.”

“Nope. Must’ve had a conflict or something because her appointment was moved up. Make sure to mention my idea too. About the doctors with shirts off instead of little babies. I know they’re cute and all, but did you see the calendar she put together for the firefighters?” She fans herself.

“You really think you could convince the other doctors in this office to take off their shirts for the camera?”

“Nobody wants to see the other doctors with their shirts off. Well, maybe Dr. Delancy, but other than that, not so much. You, however….” Her voice trails off as she bounces her eyebrows up and down suggestively. “I know plenty of patients who would kill to see what you look like beneath those scrubs.”

I swear. This woman is going to be the death of me. We’ve been working together for years, and I’d like to pretend that she’s only this pushy with me, but I’d be lying. The girl is hell on wheels no matter who she’s talking to.

“Careful, Tracey. I might have to call HR in here if you keep this up,” I joke.

“Whatever. You know I love you. By the way, chew fast. Marcy’s all checked in and looked anxious to get out of here. Better not keep her waiting.”

“Be right there,” I mutter through a mouthful of food. Tracey’s name echoes down the hall from the receptionist’s desk, and she replies, “I’m coming!” Then she disappears, and I’m left staring at my turkey sandwich on wheat.

My nerves have been buzzing all day as I’ve watched the minutes tick by. Each and every one of them bringing me a little closer to facing Marcy again. And I’ve never been more anxious in my life. I was such an ass, but it’s not her. It’s me.

Actually…maybe it is her.

Because I’ve never struggled to keep my distance from a woman before she walked into my life. Not since Kate, anyway. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I’ve never had a problem keeping my emotions in check. I’ve never been so distracted, either. And after how I left things, how I kind of blew her off…I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t know if I should be running toward the exam room or away from it. I feel lost. But it looks like it’s about time to rip off the Band-Aid whether or not I’m ready.

Tossing my half-eaten sandwich in the trash, I rub the palm of my hand over my face then wash them for thirty seconds in the sink before heading to room four.

I tap my knuckles against the solid door.

“Come in,” a voice calls from the other side.

Twisting the handle, I greet Marcy. “Hey.”

Her smile looks forced as she peers over at me from the exam table. “Hello, Dr. Bennett.”

Dr. Bennett.

“Good to see you again,” I tell her, ignoring the passive-aggressive comment. “How have you been feeling?”

“Fine. I think I’m over the whole morning sickness thing, so that’s good.”

“That’s very good. How have you been sleeping?”

The question is innocent enough. In fact, I ask it of all of my patients and have never thought much of it. But she’s different. She has trouble sleeping. Like me.

Tucking