Page 13 of Dr. Fellow

My titties look awesome tonight, and it’s a damn shame that I’m the only one who’s going to appreciate them. Even though it’s a girls’ night, I’m dressed to the nines in a tight, black V-neck sweater and medium-wash jeans. My hair is straight, my brows are plucked, and my face is perfectly made up. Look good, feel good—that’s the recipe for a happy life. Well, that, and margaritas like I previously mentioned.

“Well, since you insist on marrying Doctor Delightful,” I interrupt, waving my hand to force their attention back on me. “Can we please talk about where we’re going for the bachelorette? I’m in desperate need of a trip to warmer weather. Whoever said that it was acceptable for it to be twenty degrees at the end of February was seriously sadistic. Shouldn’t spring be around the corner?”

Cassidy’s wedding is only four months away, and I’ve been waiting on pins and needles for her to share the plan. My friends have been so busy lately with their boyfriends, work, and school that I’ve been feeling a little lonely. A drunk girls’ weekend is exactly what I need to pick me up.

Claire gives her sister-in-law a hesitant look, tucking a dark curl behind her ear, something she tends to do when she’s nervous. Her icy-blue eyes are somewhat glassy after just a single drink, and I know for a fact that one of us is going to have to make sure she gets home safely. I love her to death, but she’s the biggest lightweight that I know, and she acts like a baby giraffe when she’s had a few too many.

I lean forward to grab a chip and fill the awkward silence between us. “Why is nobody saying anything?”

“We’re going to Vegas . . .” Cass replies. Her tone is careful, and it almost sounds like she isn’t excited to visit the city that never sleeps.

Or is that New York?

I’ve never been great at geography.

And I mean, I get her hesitation. She isn’t really a dress up and put on a show kind of girl. In the two years that I’ve known her, I’ve seen her in a full face of makeup maybe five times, and all of those were because I forced her into submission, not because she chose it for herself. But even if she were wearing a trash bag with her hair completely unbrushed, she would still be the most gorgeous person I know—both inside and out.

Cassidy’s long blonde hair is pulled into a high ponytail, several stray wisps falling around her face haphazardly. Even though she and Claire came straight from work, they look like they walked out of a damn Pinterest board for hot nurses. When I leave the hospital, I have bodily fluids all over me, smell, and could easily be mistaken for a grunge goblin.

Life isn’t fair.

“Oh thank God.” I release a dramatic breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I was worried you were going to say that you’re not having one, or that it’s going to be somewhere lame like 30A, or something.”

Claire takes a long sip of her margarita, watching me curiously like I’m a ticking time bomb that’s about to explode.

I’m honestly not surprised she’s keeping her lips locked—she hates confrontation. But Cass usually lives for it, which makes me suddenly very nervous about what’s going to come out of my best friend’s mouth.

“Nope,” Cass answers simply, avoiding my stare. “We’re definitely going to Vegas.”

“God, don’t sound so excited,” I snort, leaning back against the red leather booth. “So who else is coming? Anyone I know?”

“It’s not finalized yet . . .” Cass says, shifting in her seat slightly. “We’re going to keep it small, but for sure it will be the three of us and Caroline. She has that weekend off for med school, and promised to be there.”

I don’t know the youngest Winters sibling very well, but when I introduced myself at the engagement party, she didn’t have a whole lot to say and was acting somewhat standoffish. I always try to give people the benefit of the doubt though, so I’m sure I’ll come to love her just like her sister. She was probably just having a bad night, and honestly, I would’ve had a bad night too if I were her—the guy she was talking to looked like a total wet blanket.

“And what weekend would that be, my dear bestie?” I ask, slurping down the remnants of my margarita.

“The first one in April.”

My face must be an open book to my thoughts because Cass apologizes, “Sorry—it was the only date that worked for all seven of us. I made sure you were off work, and Claire already handled the hotels, flights, and everything. All you have to do is show up at the airport.”

I wasn’t really concerned about the logistics or money because I’ve always been a fly by the seat of my pants kind of woman. If there’s a good time to be had, you can bet that I’ll be there. Plus, I’m a champion at the airport—TSA has never seen a more efficient traveler.

“Wait, who else did you invite?” I ask, focusing on something else that she said. “You named four of us—me, you, Claire, and Caroline—but you just said seven.”

“Yeah, Cass,” Claire teases, biting her bottom lip to hold back a fit of giggles. “Who else did you invite?”

I feel like there’s some inside joke going on here because the guest list of a bachelorette party shouldn’t be that funny. I would assume that the extras are some of her random childhood friends, but I think she kind of lost touch with everyone when her brother died a few years ago. And I know it’s definitely not any of our coworkers because she doesn’t hang out with people from the hospital other than me, Parker, and his sisters . . .

Cass narrows her eyes on Claire and snarls, “I’m going to kill you.”

“No you won’t. You love me,” Claire sings, making a kissy face with her lips. “Even more than you love my brother.”

“It depends on the day, but right now he’s winning by a mile.”

“Ahem.” I snap my fingers, redirecting their focus back to the more important matter at hand. “Care to share who else is coming, Cass? The guest list sounds pretty final to me.”

She glances at Claire who just shrugs. “She’s going to find out eventually.”

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