Crush - Kelsie Rae Page 0,29
a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze drops down to her lap. “Fine, I guess.”
She’s lying.
“You sure? If you’re not sleeping well––”
“I’m fine. I’ve never been a great sleeper, so why start now, right?” Her laugh is just as forced as her smile.
“You can talk to me,” I press.
Her cocked brow is a challenge in itself. “You sure about that?”
Sighing, I take a seat on the rolling chair across from her. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry––”
“That’s bullshit. I have every reason to be sorry––”
“You really don’t. I’m fine. I promise. If anything, I think I owe you an apology. First, and most importantly,” she takes a deep breath, “I was just looking for sex and maybe a little friendship or something. Things got weird at your house, and that’s on both of us, but I’m not holding a grudge, and I sure as hell am not going to pull some lover scorned bullshit at my doctor’s appointment. As for my salty attitude, I had a big photo shoot fall through and was kind of planning on that money to buy a new lens for my camera. I guess I’m pouting and am taking it out on you, which is not fair, but I think I’m going to play the pregnancy card, so you have to forgive me.”
My chest rumbles with a dry laugh as soon as she’s finished with her little monologue. Her honesty is refreshing. And by some miracle, it lifts the weight of guilt I’d been carrying around since her picture message showed up on my phone through the B&B app.
“You’re not mad at me?” I probe.
“Nope. And I really don’t want things to be weird between us.”
“Neither do I. I like you, Marcy. I think you’re an incredible woman––”
“I’m gonna stop you right there because we both know you were going to follow it up with a but, and I’m not in the mood to hear it.”
I flinch back a few inches and tug the collar on my green scrubs. “Alright, then. How about I offer you a job that’ll help cover that lens you’re wanting?”
With a narrowed gaze, she watches me closely before asking, “Seriously?”
“Yeah. The fire department is still raving over their success because of the calendars. Would you be willing to do something similar for the hospital?”
“Ben….” I can see the hesitation in her eyes.
“It’s not out of pity and has absolutely nothing to do with whatever happened between us. I promise. Tracey’s the one who suggested it in the first place, but I agree with her.”
Staying silent, Marcy chews on the inside of her cheek before clarifying, “You want to hire me to take pictures for a calendar?”
“Is that a problem?”
She purses her lips, but I think it’s to prevent her excitement from bubbling out of her more than anything else.
“What kind of calendar?” she asks. The paper crinkles as she leans forward with curiosity.
“I was thinking it might be fun to do a collection of the babies the hospital has delivered over the past year or so, but I’m definitely open to suggestions.”
Eyes brightening, she gushes, “I think the baby angle would be perfect.”
“You think? Good.” I hesitate before slumping a few inches lower and adding, “Tracey would kill me if I didn’t bring her suggestion to the table too, so here it goes….”
I’m gonna kill Tracey for this.
“She thinks we should follow the firefighter’s layout and have a bunch of the doctors take their shirts off.”
Snorting, Marcy covers her face and shakes her head as if to dispel the imagery. “Sorry,” she apologizes through a bout of laughter. “I’m just picturing the old guy I passed in the hall. He had to have been at least eighty.”
“That’s Dr. Jeffers, and he’s seventy-two.”
“Why hasn’t he retired?”
“He tried, but his wife couldn’t handle having him at home all day, every day,” I reveal in a conspiratorial whisper.
She laughs even harder. “Oh my gosh, that’s absolutely priceless! Tell Tracey that I’m all for her idea, but only if we can put Dr. Jeffers on the cover.”
“No deal. Dr. Jeffers would kill me.”
“It’d be worth it, just to see everyone’s faces.”
“Har, har.” I roll my eyes.
As her amusement wears off, her smile softens, and I’m given a glimpse of the girl I’d had the chance to cook dinner for all those nights ago. My chest tightens when I realize that one day, she’ll find someone else to cook her dinner. And I’ll be left alone, on my own, with only