Page 12 of Doctor One Night

Carly raises an eyebrow. “Wait, what? Hunter Parrish? As in the man you fucked sideways in the lab last year?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, that Hunter Parrish.” I choose to ignore her desperate attempt to bring this to the gutter. “It appears Dr. Bench had the bright idea to ask him to consult on the pacemaker work we've been doing, and I didn’t exactly think like I could say no. You know, I didn't share with him the whole 'fucking sideways' sidebar.”

Carly sets her coffee down, leaning forward with interest. “And now?”

“And now I just checked my email, and it’s a go. We have a meeting this afternoon, the three of us.”

Her eyes widen, and she gives me a knowing look. “Frankie, are you freaking out?”

I sigh, rubbing my temples. “Of course I’m freaking out. It’s going to be awkward. Luckily, it won't be our first interaction since our lab in-service. I literally ran into him at the hospital on Friday.”

“What happened?”

“I was hurrying down the hall, looking down, and he rounded a corner at the same time. Bam. Like I said, literally.”

“Fuck. Why didn't you tell me?”

“Exactly. That was Friday. We haven't spoken since then. Plus, no biggie. Until I get this email, of course.”

“No biggie?! This is the first interaction since you two,” she says, making a hand gesture with her pointer finger, going in and out of a circle created by her thumb and pointer on the other hand.

“You're disgusting and so juvenile, Carly.”

“I know. But seriously.”

“I know.”

Carly reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Listen, just be careful with him, okay? He’s a hottie, no doubt, but he’s world’s grumpiest. Plus, he has a reputation for the perpetual bachelor.”

I nod, trying to keep my tone light. “Don’t worry, girl. While we might have slept together that one time, I have no intention of ever going there again.”

But as the words leave my mouth, a tiny voice in the back of my mind whispers the lingering essence of him from the dream the other night. I push it down, refusing to acknowledge the way my stomach twists at the thought of seeing him again.

Carly studies me for a moment, then nods, seemingly satisfied. “Good. Just keep your head on straight, and remember who you are. You’re a brilliant, beautiful, and in-control-scientist-badass.”

I force a smile, hoping it’s convincing. “Yeah, I know all those things.” Then I throw a dishtowel at her.

As we chat about lighter things—her patients, my latest research—I can’t help the niggling doubt that keeps creeping in. The thought of being in the same room as Hunter Parrish again, of working closely with him, has me on edge in a way I haven’t been in a long time.

I tell myself it’s just nerves, just the usual anxiety about bringing someone else in on my project, my baby. But deep down, I know it’s more than that. I will have to deploy the universe’s best self-control if he so much as brushes past me in a suggestive way.

“Are you pulling another night shift tonight?”

Carly stretches out on the couch, the wide sectional I bought just so I could spend time with my friends and have plenty of room. Right now, she’s on the far left side, and I’m on the far right, our usual positions. I haven’t changed out of my pajamas, and she’s wearing a borrowed pair of joggers. I think she spends more time here than at her own house.

“Nah, they have me on-call for today. There was a big lull last night, not a lot going on, everyone covered, that kinda thing. It’s nice, really. It’s like my Friday.”

“When do you go in?”

She shrugs, her eyes glued to the flatscreen hanging above the fireplace.

“They’ll call if they need me. I’m not stressing over it too much.”

“Who’s running the desk?”

After stretching and showing her trim, athletic figure, Carly replies, “Grace is on the desk tonight, and she has her own little cadre backing her up.”

“How is Grace doing, by the way?”

---