Page 3 of Stirred Up

“One piece, got it? I don’t have to buy ya dinner, Sweet pea,” I seethe, meeting her shocked, widened eyes. “Ididn’t fuck ya.”

“Neither did I!” Dylan yells from the living room. “I’ll take her piece if you throw her out!”

Unbelievable. We discuss his life, he hears nothing. Bitch tries to short him food, he’s all ears.

“Cookie,” Brady coos at her sickeningly. That’s what he calls them all—Cookie—since we were teenagers, because he can’t remember their names. “You better be going.”

She drops the slice back in the box and I return to my own cheesy goodness, satisfied and fully aware I’ve become a bitch. These two guys bring it out of me, so I place full blame on them and maybe a little on the fact that it’s been over twelve months since I’ve had a man’s hands anywhere near my body. I close my eyes, needing to unwind; unfortunately the yapping girl won’t allow that.

“But, we didn’t finish studying,” she pouts, hands on hips, obviously fake chest poofed out in offering to him.

I swallow a bite and peer over at Brady, who’s sittingacross from me now, refusing to acknowledge her whining. “Another nurse?” I sneer, one eyebrow judgmentally raised.

“Civic duty.” He shrugs with a devilish grin, biting off a grotesquely big mouthful of pepperoni heaven.

“Hmph,” I scoff, “as if you teach them anything medicinal.”

“Oh, but he did,” Blondie bounces, ticking the “lessons” off of her fingers. “He taught me the five points of restraint, how to take vitals and,” she ponders, “oh yeah, breasts exams!”

My head snaps to Brady, eyes narrowed. “Restraints and breast exams, really?”

“Covering the basics.” He winks.

I turn back to Blondie. “Candy, did he show you anything that’s actuallyonyour test, or did he just want to grope your tits?”

“No, no, no, breast exams are super important. He taught me a lot, want me to show you? I could use the practice!”

Is thischildfor real? I may only be twenty-six years old, but I was smarter than her at, say…five.

My penetrating glare moves from Brady to her. “If your hand comes anywhere near my girls, Goldilocks, you’ll be pulling back a nub.”

Brady snorts, choking through his laughter, and Nurse Whore is immediately at the ready to clap him on the back.

“Like, really though,” she looks at me, pleadingly, “they’re super important. You need to do them. Right Brady?”

“I appreciate your concern, but I have a doctor for that,” I deadpan.

She bounces again. “Who?”

“Yeah, Moe, who?” Brady asks, recovered and lethally serious.

Shit, how did we get on this subject exactly? “Um, just a doctor.” I glance away instinctively. “It’s none of your business anyway,” I add on a mumble, grabbing another slice and stomping off to the couch.

This day quickly went from hectic to bad to downright nightmarish. Brady reads me like the back of his hand, he’s had sixteen years of experience, so I know that he knows I’m full of shit…a lecture is definitely on its way. Bracing for it, I stuff my face, dipping my head to conceal my staring as I watch Brady help Ditzy gather her things and lead her out.

The minute I’ve relaxed a bit, Brady drops beside me. Ugh, way too close, so I can smellherover his classic scent of confidence and man. “You still mad at me?” he leans in and whispers in my ear, earning him a swift elbow to the ribs.

“Is she old enough to drive herself home?”

His head falls back, exposing his taut, tan throat with his laugh. “Yep. Smart enough to have regular exams too. I know you, Moe, your try at evasive doesn’t work on me.” His voice levels to a chastising, low timbre, his green eyes boldly holding mine. “It pisses me off to think you don’t take care of yourself. Women’s bodies are complex, fascinating things; there’s lots to take care of.”

“Why is it such a big deal? I’m only twenty-six years old and it’s not like I’m working the streets at night.”

“It’s a big deal.” His stern voice leaves no room for argument.

“Sir, yes, sir, I’ll get right on that,” I salute, shutting down the conversation. I go grab Dylan another slice, his hand already out when I arrive at the beanbag throne.

“You bet your ass you will,” Brady calls out and I try to ignore exactly what that means. He’s the most persistent man alive, scarily stubborn and renowned for getting his way…especially when it comes to his friends’ health.

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