Page 20 of Sticky Situationship

“What. The. Hell?”

The question, which isn't a question so much as an expletive based on the way it trips over Zoe's lips, drags my gaze away from Brock. My best friend looks like she's seen a ghost, but before I can track what she's staring at, she spins sloshing her champagne.

"What?" I ask, completely bewildered at the uncharacteristic response.

"Not what," she says, grabbing her clutch and searching the back of the bar as if she's desperate to escape to the bathroom, "Who."

"Who what?"

I glance back toward the door but am distracted because at that exact moment Brock spots me in the crowd, and his eyes lock with mine. That familiar roguish smile spreads across his face, and my heart does a somersault. He passes the flowers to the firefighter on his right and makes his way toward me, the crowd parting like the Red Sea as every eye in the place swivels to see who he’s heading for.

And when he lifts me off my feet and presses a searing kiss to my lips, my knees go weak and the bar erupts in applause.

“What are you doing here?” I murmur against his lips, clutching him tight around the neck. “I thought you were working.”

“And miss celebrating the brilliant, officially board-certified Dr. Bauer?” he replies, his voice a warm rumble that sends shivers down my spine. “Never.”

"We're celebrating everyone," I say, as he sets me back on solid ground. "You remember Zoe, of course, and—"

"Zoe Meyer?"

The one holding the flowers, trailing a few steps behind Brock is the firefighter who's nearly shouted my best friend's name in the middle of the bar. He trips to a halt, the other guys barreling into his back. But the curly haired babyface is too preoccupied staring at Zoe—who apparently didn't have a chance to slip away—to notice.

And she's gone from white as a ghost to flushing scarlet in two point two seconds. "It's Dr. Zoe Meyer to you, Levi."

What the hell is right.

Zoe's lips press together and the way she cocks a saucy eyebrow at this man tells me they have history. Alotof history.

A slow smile spreads across this Levi guy's face.

"What did I miss," Brock murmurs in my ear, his arm looped over my shoulder as he looks from Zoe to Levi and back.

"I have no idea."

Levi takes another step toward Zoe, thrusting the bouquet of flowers toward Brock without so much as a glance in his direction.

"These are for you," Brock says, passing the enormous bouquet into my hands.

"Thank you," I whisper, inhaling the delicate scent of the gorgeous pink roses and white babies’ breath.

“We can’t stay long,” he adds, keeping an eye on the juicy scene unfolding in front of us.

“Thank you for coming.” I lean into him, grateful the patrons around us have something else to entertain them and are no longer eyeing my man. Even after these past two months together, Brock still takes my breath away. And makes me want him. All the time. Without even trying.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m so proud of you, Libby,” he says, his gray eyes shining. “You worked so hard for this.”

“You helped,” I tell him. “More than you know.”

It’s true. During all the late-night study sessions, the practice questions he quizzed me on, the balanced meals he made sure I ate when I was too stressed to care. I wasn’t wrong before. I didn’t and still don’tneeda man in my life. But, hell, how I want one. And not just any one.This one. Because with him, things aren’t complicated. Nope, they couldn't be more simple.

Our friends, on the other hand. That's a different story.

“I'd better watch out," Levi announces to the bar, raking Zoe up and down with a heated gaze that makes me think he's seen her naked before. "Last time I saw this girl I ended up with a margarita thrown in my face."

She clicks her tongue. "Some things never change."

"Like my feelings for you?"

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