Page 42 of Hooking
I watch as he exits the room, leaving Cassidy and me alone momentarily. However, my growing irritation with what just happened continues as my knee bounces up and down.
“Are you okay?” she asks as I clench my jaw.
“Yup,” I mutter under my breath just as Doctor McDouche walks back into the room.
He instructs Cassidy to lift her shirt to expose her belly before squirting a clear blue-tinged gel. Using the probe to smear the gel around, we focus on the screen as the baby comes into view. I listen to the doctor identify each body part, as the tech takes measurements to make sure all is okay. The probe moves to magnify between the legs, and that’s when they stop looking to Cassidy before proceeding.
“You ready to find out what you’re having?” he questions her again, smiling at her and completely ignoring the fact I’m here, and she’s holding my hand.
Prick.
“Yes. We’re ready.”
The tech moves the probe around, pressing some buttons to zoom in on the area. I gently squeeze her hand, bringing it to my lips and placing gentle kisses along her knuckles as I wait for the result.
“Looks like we’re having…” he says, before looking at her with a slight smirk. “A girl.”
“You’re sure?” she asks, looking at me to gauge my reaction.
“As sure as I’ll ever be. Congratulations,” he says, pressing the button to print a few photos before turning back to her. “Here are some photos for you. As I said before, everything looks great with this little girl. I’ll see you again in three weeks for a follow-up prenatal, but in the meantime if you need anything… and I mean anything at all… don’t hesitate to call me. You have my cell.”
Cassidy squeezes my hand, while the other balls into a tight fist. Like hell she’ll be calling him with any issues. And if I have it my way, she won’t be seeing him as her OB again.
She wipes the gel from her belly and pulls her shirt back into place while scooting to the end of the bed. I reach out a hand and help her off before we head toward the exit.
“I have to stop to make my follow-up appointment,” she says, as we make it to the front of the clinic. Studying my profile while we wait for the receptionist to get off the phone, she asks me again, “Are you okay?”
Gritting my teeth, I say, “I’m fine.” My gaze refuses to meet hers but is fully trained on the offender of my bad mood. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
I walk out of the clinic door but hang near the entrance as I watch the asshole approach her. He places his hand on her lower back as he talks to her about God knows what. I’ll certainly give him something else to talk about.
Cassidy moves out of his touch as she turns her attention back to the receptionist. Once done, she turns back to Dr. Prick, saying a few more words before making her way toward me. I turn my back to the door and pretend to be fascinated by something on my phone.
As we walk toward my car, Cassidy hangs back a little behind me. I pull the passenger side door open for her, waiting for her to climb in when she stops and looks at me. And I mean really looks at me. Her lips purse as she contemplates her next move.
“Enough of this. What the fuck is going on with you?” she says, with her arms resting against the open door.
“Nothing.” It’s a one-word response I know woman hate, but it’s all I’m willing to give right now to control my temper.
“Sure as hell doesn’t feel like nothing,” she says, placing her hands on her hips. “You either start talking now, or I start walking home. Or better yet, I’ll just go back inside and ask Dr. Brown to give me a ride home.”
“The fuck you will,” I say, clenching my jaw tight and from the smirk on Cassidy’s face, I’ve just shown my ace.
“So, it is about him,” she says, dropping her hand and stepping closer to me. I avert my gaze from her as she wraps her hands around my waist, pulling me as close to her as she can get with her bump between us. “You’re jealous.”
“Am not.”
She looks up at me, gripping my chin so my eyes meet hers. “Are too. I saw the way you gritted your teeth when he touched me.”
“He’s your doctor; he should be professional, not thinking about how he wants to fuck you,” I say, my irritation building again.
“He doesn’t want to fuck me.”
I let out a huff of disbelief. “Yeah, and I’m the queen of England. Of course he wants to fuck you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, so if my doctor caressed my leg or put her hands on my hips in an intimate way, that’s completely okay?”
