Page 31 of Dr. Intern

Her dark hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, a few untamed wisps of hair falling around her delicate features. She’s wearing a thin, black silk robe which reveals more than it conceals. It would be almost too easy to reach out and tug on the loose string holding it together. Too easy to determine if she’s completely naked beneath the haphazardly tied fabric.

There are four total barstools in the kitchen, but for some reason Claire chooses to perch on the one beside me, spinning to face my direction. My blood stirs as my eyes drop to her bare legs, noticing the way her robe stops halfway up her thigh, exposing more of her than I’ve ever seen before. Her legs seem to go on for days, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to get a grip on myself.

Fuck—I’m going to need to go jerk off after this. It’s been too damn long since I got laid.

I force myself to look away, focusing on her words as she responds, “No, you didn’t wake me. I’m a bit of a night owl these days.” Claire lets out a soft moan that makes my cock jump as she looks down at my plate. “Plus, whatever you made smelled so good.”

“I’m sure anything would smell good when you don’t keep any food in the house.”

She rolls those perfect eyes of hers with practiced precision, as if she’s done it every day since the moment she was born. “I finished my last Lunchable and can of Diet Coke, I’ll have you know. Normally I at least have those in the fridge.”

“The epitome of a balanced diet,” I say, shaking my head in mock dismay. “Aspartame and preservatives. Are you sure you come from a family of doctors and nurses?”

“We all have our vices.”

Yeah, we do. And unfortunately, I’m realizing that she’s mine.

“Well, go on,” I offer, gesturing my chin to the fridge. “There’s plenty of food for the both of us.”

Her face lights up with delight as she hops off the stool like a kid who’s just been picked first for a game at recess. Fuck, I’d pick her first too.

I try to avert my eyes, attempting to glue them to the YouTube video on my phone, but something about her is like a fucking siren that I can’t look away from.

She’s beautiful, magnetic, and fearless—exactly like I remembered her. I don’t know why Parker is so worried. She seems to be doing just fine.

After Claire removes the warmed-up food from the microwave, she returns to her original perch, facing me as she shovels a bite of pepper and meat through her lips. “Mmmmm.” She hums, chewing slowly as she studies me. “I think you’re officially my favorite roommate.”

“I’m your only roommate,” I remind her, returning my attention to the screen.

Claire finishes her meal, making a satiated sound that goes directly to my crotch as she pushes the plate across the counter. I expect her to get up and head back to her room, but instead, she moves closer to me, her leg now resting against mine as her gaze lands on my phone screen.

“Whatcha watching?”

“Oh, uh,” I fumble my words, not expecting her question. “It’s a shoulder arthroplasty where they substitute the—”

“Woah,” she gushes, interrupting my train of thought as she leans in, her chin resting on her hands. Her blue eyes widen with fascination as they focus on the video playing on my phone. “That’s so freaking cool. Except the camera angle kind of sucks, so I don’t know how you can tell what the heck is happening.”

“You get used to it,” I reply, trying to focus as I explain to her exactly what’s happening in the video.

Claire’s eating it up and asking me questions as I walk her through the procedural steps. For someone who didn’t pursue a medical career like the rest of her family, she sure seems drawn to it.

“Interesting,” she whispers in awe as she reaches for the screen to get a closer look, our fingers briefly touching in the process. “It’s like you’re piecing together a puzzle.”

I nod, my passion quickly reignited by her genuine interest. It can sometimes be hard to remember that while I’m going through hell, my job is actually exciting, and can even be fun sometimes.

“Honestly, that’s a pretty good way of describing it,” I admit. “Each patient’s body is different, and you never know what you’re going to see until you open them up and take a deeper look inside.”

Just like the woman next to me. On the night we met, I braced myself for someone aloof and uninteresting, but she turned out to be the complete opposite.

“So,” Claire says, her voice softer now, “do you ever get nervous before surgeries?”

“Only when your brother is my attending,” I joke, unable to help my smile when she giggles at my remark.

It’s not true—Parker doesn’t scare me in the slightest. But I’m desperately trying to remind my logical brain that she’s my best friend’s little sister, and therefore, she is completely off-limits. That night was a one-time thing, and it can’t ever happen again.

“He’s not that scary,” Claire assures me, pausing the video. “Especially not when you’ve seen pictures of him playing dress up as a kid.”

I chuckle. “I would pay a lot of money for those.”

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