Page 31 of Doctor Enemy

Kurt chuckles. “I’m going to put the towel in and say that you’ve won this round.” He gathers the cards up, collecting mine as well. “I’ll try to have the gold star sticker to you in the morning.”

“Hard pass. It’s just going to end up on the hand of one of my patients when I’m back to work,” I tell him, yawning.

Kurt reaches out, brushing his fingers over my cheek, then my forehead. The touch is warm enough that it nearly bites, my heart skipping a beat. It’s too tender. Too soft. A guy like Kurt shouldn’t be able to touch anyone like that.

“Get some rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

Stupidly, childishly, I ask him, “Is that a promise?”

The thought of being alone in here tonight is unsettling, even with sleep already tugging at my eyelids and burning my vision.

The look on Kurt’s face is softer than I’ve ever seen it. “Yes, Lori. It’s a promise.”

I close my eyes, slipping almost instantly asleep–and then I’m in my car, on the highway. I’m driving fast. Faster than I should be. The world rushes past me. It’s daytime. Then it’s night. I’ve got no concept of time.

Twin headlights in front of me. I try to wrench the car to the side, but the steering wheel isn’t working. It’s locked up. I can’t make the car turn.

The vehicle crashes into me head-on. Glass explodes. Metal squeals in protest. I scream–and a hand grabs me by the wrist, another one on my face.

“Lori, Lori, calm down,” says Kurt. His voice is an anchor, pulling me out of my nightmare and back into reality. “I’m right here. I’m right here.”

Kurt’s right here. I’m right here.

There’s no car. I’m safe.

A sob rips out of my throat.

“It’s alright.” He sits on the edge of the mattress. Fingers slide through my hair, pushing it out of my face. “You were having a bad dream, Lori. That’s all.”

Carefully, he reaches up and undoes the straps on the side of my neck brace. The moment that the pressure is off, I’m able to pull in a solid breath. With more freedom in my movement, I sit up a little bit, wiping at the tears on my face with both hands.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

Kurt clucks his tongue. “None of that. You went through a lot. It’s normal for you to have nightmares like this.”

His hand brushes over my face. The touch is warm, like a balm. Being around him makes the fear in my chest calm, just a little bit. I need more of that steady calmness. If I don’t get it, then I’m going to keep crying, and I hate that.

So I lean forward, and I kiss him.

It’s a solid collision, nothing put together about it.

I’m still crying, my cheeks wet, and there’s something desperate about the way that my hand curls in the front of his blue scrub top. Kurt lets me–kisses me back even, right up until the pain in my head spikes too much and I sink back down onto the mattress.

Kurt is silent for a moment and then he says, “You know, you seem pretty eager to kiss me for someone that thinks I’m a player.”

“You are a player,” I say, miserably. It feels like a puzzle is finally clicking together in the back of my head. I’ve got all the pieces. All of the reasons why being around him makes me so fucking furious. And it’s like that kiss finally gave me the map to put them together.

“You still kissed me,” says Kurt.

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“A kiss from Lori Lange. And I didn’t even have to make the first move.” Kurt cracks a smile, and brushes his fingers over my cheeks, wiping away the tears. “Who would’ve thought it?”

“Just get me a drink,” I grumble, my cheeks hot and my whole body aching from moving around too much.

Kurt, jokingly, says, “Unfortunately, alcoholic beverages aren’t permitted on hospital grounds.” He rises to his feet. “You’ll have to settle for a Sprite.”

I give him a scathing look, and glower as he leaves the room to fetch me my soda. The moment that he’s gone, and the door has clicked shut behind him, I fully collapse backward into the bed, groaning.

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