Page 60 of Dr. Fellow

“What?” she laughs, innocently looking at her sister. “It’s not like brother dearest will care. Your boy toy doesn’t even work at our hospital.”

Claire must not know what’s going on with her sister because there’s no way that she would bring him up if she did. They bicker and have their issues, but she would never support a toxic relationship like that.

“Speaking of toys,” I pipe up, changing the subject and looking at my best friend. “I left a few early wedding presents on your bed. Just wait until you get home to use them, please. Our room is right next door.”

Cassidy’s cheeks flush as I wink at her, and I hear Claire pretend to gag from across the table.

“I’m suddenly feeling a little tired.” Cass lets out a teasing yawn and kisses Parker on the cheek. “Want to head to bed early?”

“Oh my god, gross,” Claire groans, pushing back her chair so aggressively that it almost topples over. “Well, I’m going to the casino. Maybe I’ll win some earplugs.”

Parker rolls his eyes but there’s a reluctant smile tugging at his lips, the love he has for his sister overshadowing her never-ending teasing.

Beau grins as he stands and wraps his girlfriend in his beefy arms. “I’m going wherever you go, pretty girl.”

I finally gather the nerves to peek at Walker, curious about his plans now that the group is dispersing. He’s been silently watching like a bystander, and I wonder if he’s had enough of our antics for the day. I wouldn’t blame him—we can be a lot, and I already forced him to explore the strip before we got ready for dinner.

“You wanna go?” I ask quietly.

His dark eyes flare with something unreadable, boring into me like a knife. “That depends.”

I shift, suddenly feeling like we’re the only two people in the room. He has a way of doing that—capturing my focus so that all I see is him.

“Depends on what?”

He leans in, his voice so low that only I can hear it. “What are my odds of getting lucky?”

A dangerous prickle of arousal creeps down my spine. “I’d put all of my money on it.”

Chapter 24

Walker

Morgan is bent over the roulette table, eyes sparkling with excitement as she cheers for the wheel to land on red. I’ve never gambled in my life because it’s a ridiculous waste of money and incredibly frivolous, but as I watch her laugh and jump when her color hits, I begin to understand the appeal. Though to be honest, I would understand the appeal of anything that made her this happy.

The rest of the group left a while ago, but she was on a winning streak, and I couldn’t bring myself to leave her alone. Multiple guys have already come up to the table to hit on her, and I don’t know if she’s politely declining simply because I’m hovering like a damn bodyguard, or because she really isn’t interested, but I don’t intend to find out.

All I can picture is her coming home early tomorrow morning after staying in a stranger’s hotel room, and the thought makes me feel twitchy. I wouldn’t blame her because the number of times we’ve both thrown out the word friend is egregious, but I’m very quickly beginning to feel like something has to change after this weekend.

We’re not just friends anymore, and we both know it.

“Walkie come on,” Morgan pouts, leaning over the table as she slides her winning chips closer. “Help me make a bet. You’re allowed to have fun, you know.”

I slip my arm around her waist. “I am having fun.”

And it’s the truth—I can’t remember a time when I’ve had more fun than tonight, and it’s all because of the person with me. Morgan has such a giddy joy and enthusiasm for life, that it’s impossible to not enjoy every moment with her.

“Well, I would have more fun if you participated.” She eyes me like she’s trying to be intimidating.

She’s not—but it’s cute as hell.

I sip my water casually, trying to act unaffected by her tornado of energy. She’s glowing under the fluorescent casino lights, her chestnut hair in loose curls that slide over her bare shoulder each time she gets excited and flails her body around.

“What do I get out of participating?”

“Bragging rights, obviously. Though I doubt you can do better than me. I’m up five hundred bucks.”

“You’re right. I can’t,” I confirm, not interested in gambling whatsoever. “And we should keep it that way if you want to break that rental lease, don’t you think?”

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