Page 51 of Dr. Fellow

“Yeah, apparently she doesn’t have a degradation kink,” I joke, tossing more of the greatest candy known to man in my mouth. “It made me sad because that’s truly award-winning alliteration.”

“So you chose Team Daddies? Why not Puck Bunnies, or something?”

She’s referencing hockey romance, a phase we all went through a few months ago. The genre has been innovating a ton recently, and several authors have figured out how to get super spicy while mixing in dark themes. Rom-com writers need to take notes.

“You can’t dislike a single dad,” I argue, feeling myself about to step onto my soap box. “It’s just science.”

“What if he’s a dick and blond?”

Oof.

“Hmmm—” I have to pause and think about how to respond to that one.

The entire book community hates blond men for some reason. It’s never been an ick of mine because I imagine all of them to look like Chad Michael Murray, and you’re going to tell me that you hate the teenage heartthrob of the 2000s? There’s no way.

“Redemption arcs are a major pillar of modern literature,” I answer confidently, using my stern older sister voice. “Without them, we wouldn’t have character growth, and you’d be bored.”

I pause, taking a sip of my Monster Zero to wash down the baby Nerds stuck to my tongue.

“Also, I genuinely believe that blond men are fucking hot.”

“You think all men are hot,” she teases.

“I don’t discriminate,” I say, though my mind flicks to Walker. I’ve definitely been discriminating against other men by only thinking about him for months. Changing the subject, I ask, “So, how much money do I need to set aside for Vegas? I’m kind of scared.”

Claire mentioned that she took care of booking everything since it was so last minute, but she’s been uncharacteristically silent about our specific plans. For all I know, I might be maxing out my credit cards to pay for this trip. Which, I’m totally down for because I don’t have the best financial habits, but I just need a few weeks to mentally prepare for the destruction of my bank account.

“None, silly, unless you want to go to the casino or something. There’s a few hours of free time on the schedule each day.”

A wave of relief washes through me, followed by trepidation as the light turns green. “Schedule? Care to share, my precious?”

Claire might seem like the kind of person who goes with the flow, but she is a Winters, after all. Every member of that family has a genetic mutation for lack of chill—I wouldn’t be surprised if each aspect of the trip is mapped out down to the minute.

“Nope.” Her voice bubbles with excitement. “It’s a surprise. Well, other than the stripper show I just told you about. But I’m zipping my lips on everything else.”

I sigh, considering how to get the information out of her. It’s not that I think she is doing a bad job planning the trip, but Cass isn’t the most ostentatious person, and I want to make sure Claire doesn’t get carried away. The engagement party she planned over New Year’s Eve turned into a huge black-tie affair complete with catering from one of Atlanta’s most expensive restaurants, when I’m pretty sure Cass would have been happier with a barbecue.

“Do I need to call Beau for answers?” I threaten, turning onto my street. “He might think he’s a big tough guy, but I know how to play him like a damn fiddle.”

She giggles. “He doesn’t know anything. It’s driving him crazy because he thinks that as the best man, he should be included in everything. Trust me, he’s been using some very interesting interrogation techniques. But I’ve held firm.”

I smile as I picture their conversation. Claire and Beau are two peas in a pod who playfully poke at each other any chance they can get. It’s adorable really, and if I believed in romantic love, they would be the couple that I use as my inspiration.

“You’re a true warrior.”

“I told him that since he invited himself to my party, he’s a guest, not a host.”

“Cassidy’s party,” I correct.

“You know what I mean.”

“Okay, well please just promise me one thing,” I say as I pull up to my house. “That none of your surprises involve a wedding chapel.”

Chapter 20

Walker

Ididn’t get out of the hospital until mid-afternoon, which was not at all what I intended. Being away for a week obliterated my carefully curated schedule. From basic household chores, to studying for my board exams, I feel like I’m behind in all aspects of my life. And despite rushing around for the past few hours to get caught up, I’m glad I stopped to talk to Dr. Kinkaid after dropping off the conference supplies—I hate to admit it, but therapy works.

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