Page 69 of Cloud Nine Love

The question was, how long? How long was the man going to torment me? How long was I going to keep expecting to see him every time I opened my front door or came around the corner at the hospital?

Every day was like Groundhog Day. Remi was the first thing I thought about when I opened my eyes. I’d tell myself that was the one time I could think about him, and the rest of the day was a Remi-free zone. I would literally forbid him from entering my thoughts. I would banish him from my mind.

Inevitably, I would fail to keep him at bay within seconds. Everywhere I went, I caught myself hoping, wishing, looking for him. Then, when I wouldn’t see him, I’d be disappointed, but I would lie to myself and say I was relieved. After the entire day, which was basically just a marathon of doing everything I could to stop myself from obsessing about him, I’d lay down on my pillow at night. He was the last thing I thought of as I drifted off. I’d wake up the next day, rinse, and repeat.

It was exhausting. This toxic cycle was unbearable, intolerable, and untenable. Something had to change. Something drastic. Shock therapy, maybe. A lobotomy. Hypnotherapy. I wasn’t ruling out anything at this point.

“Taylor!”

When I heard my name, I turned around and saw Dr. Mathis coming toward me down the hall.

Over the past few weeks, he’d asked me out a half-dozen times. Hospitals were a breeding ground for hooking up, and even though people tried to keep it on the down low, everyone knew everyone’s business, which was basically the same in Wishing Well.

Since I started at Valley Memorial, I hadn’t heard any rumblings that Dr. Mathis was a player. If anything, I’d heard the opposite. He was constantly getting hit on by nurses, admin staff, EMTs, patients, and visitors, and he never seemed interested.

So, unless he was CIA-level at covering his tracks, he wasn’t a fuckboy.

“Hi.” I lifted my hand in a wave.

“Hey, are you just getting off?”

“I am. Yeah.”

“Are you on tonight?”

“Nope.” And I didn’t have Harper, either. She was with Kane and Ruby tonight. It was the first night free I’d had since moving home, where I didn’t have work or Harp.

“Do you want to grab a drink? I can come to you.”

My instinct was to say no. But I knew if I did that, I’d end up staying at home and wondering what Remi was doing.

Was it fair to use Dr. Mathis as a distraction?

No, I decided. It wasn’t.

“I’m really not in a place to start any sort of…anything.” Usually, I was much more eloquent and capable of expressing myself. But last night, seeing Remi dressed as Tattooed Coach Taylor had thrown me completely off balance.

“Okay. Noted.” He smiled before slowly repeating as he pretended to write down, “No sort of anything.”

I grinned. He was actually funny, too. “I’m just… it’s complicated.”

“Does this complication have a name?”

“Yes.” He has two, I thought.

“Are you in a relationship with?—”

“No,” I quickly clarified. “No, it’s nothing like that.”

“Look, I get it. We all have pasts and complications. But I’d still love to grab a drink with you.”

I’d put out my disclaimer; at this point, if he still wanted to take me out, that was on him. “Okay.”

His smile widened. “You’re in Wishing Well, right?”

I nodded. “Do you know The Tipsy Cow? I can meet you there at seven.”

“I’d like to pick you up.”

---