I Pucking Love You (The Copper Valley Thrusters #5) - Pippa Grant Page 0,26
flying down the interstate at ten miles over the speed limit. “Hold on. Let me dig deep into my buried memories to relive something painful since you asked completely out of the blue.”
Sarcasm seriously makes him so hot. So does that flat, blue-eyed glare. And the beard. I am completely digging the beard.
Not that I’ll be telling him that.
I probably shouldn’t poke at the bear, considering he’s doing me a huge favor.
And considering he’s doing me a huge favor despite me telling him sex with him wasn’t all that great.
I should probably also tell him I thought he ghosted me instead of me taking all the credit for doing the ghosting, but it’s easier to make him not like me than it is to admit he hurt me. “I just…I remember getting embarrassed over this little thing once when I was in medical school. That’s all.”
His eyes shift again, and it’s like I’m looking at Tyler Jaeger, number ninety-one on the Thrusters, in his zone on the ice, ready to kick ass and take names.
I want to take my coat off, but I already have, which means I can fan myself and let him see he’s affecting me, or I can pretend I’m not sitting here breaking into a sweat and ignoring the way my body’s tingling again despite all the ways I was disappointed the last time we were close and friendly.
“Someone embarrassed you?” The words come out rough and annoyed, and I don’t know if he’s annoyed because he doesn’t think I can handle being on the receiving end of a joke, or if he’s annoyed that I’m talking when he wants to listen to music, or if he’s annoyed that someone embarrassed me.
Considering our discussion the other day was plenty embarrassing for both of us, it’s probably some combination of not wanting to talk and not really caring if I’ve ever been embarrassed.
Everyone’s been embarrassed. It’s not like my embarrassment is special or more embarrassing than anyone else’s, except for the part where my most embarrassing moment could’ve gotten me on the kind of daytime talk show that gets ratings for catfights and unexpected paternity test results.
“Never mind.” I reach back into the bag of Donettes.
“Does your friend know you got embarrassed?”
“Which friend?”
“The friend with a thing? The friend who’s the reason we’re going today?”
“Oh. Veda. Right. Yeah. We were tight. Like, if we’d been on a hockey team together, we would’ve been Ares Berger and Manning Frey tight. If we were candy, we’d be toffee and chocolate. We used to study together in this back corner of the library and we called it the hole. We’d meet there before big finals or whatever, when we really needed to concentrate and study, and no one ever wanted to go along to a place called the hole, so we had it all to ourselves, especially after we put the sign on the door labeling it as the hole. She’d tell me about who she was dating, and I’d tell her about which new Ben & Jerry’s flavor I tried after I stayed up late studying on Saturday nights.”
I wasn’t a great student, even if I am excellent at deflecting questions.
I wasn’t a bad student, but I wasn’t at the top of my class either. See also: I didn’t get hired for a residency and wasn’t sure what I was going to do after that final year.
But I believed if I made it through medical school, I really could help people. That it’s not all about you heal a broken bone by setting it, but also about why were you doing what you were doing to break your bone and what can we do to help anything else that might be wrong?
I wanted to be the doctor who listened.
The one who got to know her patients.
The one who knew it wasn’t only a broken arm or a bad kidney sitting on my table, but someone with a story.
“What’s this thing for Veda today?” Tyler asks.
“It’s a, erm, celebration of accomplishments. With a big…reception…before the ceremony.”
I get another what the fuck is wrong with you? look.
Legit.
I’m lying to the man about the fact that we’re on the way to a funeral, because I’m still afraid he’ll bail if I tell him the truth, and I’m not doing a very good job of it. Even I don’t believe me.
I mean, I wouldn’t if I didn’t already know I was glossing over the most important details.