“You aren’t answering my calls,” I hear the douchebag say as I pretend to jot down notes on the counter. Even though this asshole is facing away from me, I can tell his molars are grinding together by his clenched jaw.
“There’s nothing to say. We aren’t together, Weston.” Lucy’s tone is guarded.
“Stop saying that. We belong together.” Weston’s words are low enough that no one can hear them other than me. He then glances down at her outfit. “Why are you wearing that color? You know it’s not flattering on you.”
My fists clench. Did that bastard actually comment on what Lucy is wearing? Her light pink flowery blouse and matching skirt look amazing on her.
“You lost the right to tell me what to wear when we broke up. Please just go away,” Lucy pleads, the resolve in her voice wavering. “Do what you came here to do and leave.”
This asswipe dictated what she could wear? Am I interpreting this wrong?
Weston grabs her arm. “Come on, Luce. We need to talk. I know we can work things out. I only want you, and you only want me. There’s a reason you haven’t dated anyone since we broke up. Look, the Centennial Dinner is next Tuesday, and we’ve been planning to go for the past year. Let’s just keep the date.”
When I see Weston’s grubby hands on her, I inhale sharply. I glance around at the bustling area. This douchebag is literally trying to intimidate Lucy in the middle of a public area, but somehow, no one is paying attention but me. Lucy’s eyes dart towards me, and I wonder if she wants me to finally step in.
The moment I decide to intervene, Lucy says with a new resolve in her voice, “Iamdating someone. And he’s coming with me to the Centennial.”
My heart plummets, although I’m not sure why I’m so disappointed. I already knew I didn’t have a chance with Lucy. It’s hardly a surprise that she’s dating someone—of course she is. A gorgeous woman like that wouldn’t stay single for long. And if Lucy and her boyfriend are attending the Centennial, it must be serious—that very exclusive and expensive dinner is a high-exposure event with all of the big hob-nobs of the medical community brushing shoulders. Needless to say, a pleb like me wasn’t invited. Anyway, all of this doesn’t matter; it’s not about me.
Weston’s face darkens. “You’re lying. Who?”
Lucy glances at me again with something in her eyes that I cannot decipher. “Jake. Jake Whitlock. And he’s right over there.”
Um, what? But then I realize what Lucy’s been trying to tell me—she’s begging me to play along.
My response is immediate—my body reacts before my mind. Before I realize it, I’m standing up from my charting and sauntering over to where they are standing. Without hesitation, I slide an arm around Lucy’s waist. She lets out an audible gasp at the contact.
That sound makes me question everything. Does she even want this? Did I do something wrong? And then a moment later—the sensation of her in my arms disorients me. Fuck, this is not going to be easy. Touching Lucy is addictive, and I want to tug her even closer. But that’s whatIwant—it’s more important whatshewants.
Still, I’m here to play a part. I can apologize later.
“Hey babe,” I say, grateful that my voice comes out smooth and confident. Is it second nature now, pretending to be someone I’m not? The thought throws me, and I push it away before it can settle. I also try not to notice that the Weston fucker has at least two inches on me and is built like a linebacker.
Weston’s nostrils flare. “Who isthisguy?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. But I’m here to help defuse this situation, not accelerate it, no matter how much I want to punch this smug asshole in the face. “I work here. Who areyou?”
Lucy is stiffening in my arms with every word I say. Do I let her go? Is it me she’s reacting to or Weston?
“Wait a fucking minute, is this a joke?” Weston looks incredulously at Lucy. “This guy is a nurse. You’re dating a malenurse?”
I tell myself to hold steady even as I loosen my arm around Lucy just a fraction.
Lucy on the other hand juts her chin forward. “What’s wrong with Jake being a nurse? You're such an elitist jerk, Weston.”
As the words come out of her mouth, Lucy looks almost surprised by her own daring. I wonder if this is the first time she's ever stood up to Weston.
Weston’s eyes flick back and forth between us. “How long has this been going on?”
Lucy huffs, clearly wanting this exchange to end sooner rather than later. “Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s been a month.”
A dangerous light appears in Weston’s eyes. “Right. We’ll see how far this farce goes.” He sends me one more glare as he walks away.
As soon as Weston’s gone, I immediately let Lucy go. Damn, I wish I didn’t have to. She felt so fucking good in my arms, almost like she belonged there. But that’s howIfeel, not her.
“Well, that accelerated quickly,” I say, trying to cover my conflicting feelings.
Lucy lets out a startled laugh, her face troubled. “That’s for sure.”
