Page 27 of Texting Dr. Stalker

“You’re Dr North, right?”

Exhaling heavily, I clicked off my phone and looked up. The nurse smiled and sat across from me at the large round table, sipping her coffee. “Alexander North?”

“Zander,” I corrected, then forced myself to grin. “And you are…?”

“Elisabeth. I’m usually in paediatrics but was sent to help in the ER.”

“That reminds me.” I glanced at my watch. “I better get back.”

“Oh, okay.” Her shoulders deflated.

I stood and looked down at her.

And felt nothing.

No reaction—visceral or sexual, friendly or interested. She was pretty with an empty wedding finger, yet I couldn’t have cared less. With big dark eyes, sleek brown braid, and a muscular form that said she’d be sought after in the ER when manhandling unruly or unconscious patients, all I could see was my goddamn neighbour.

Her eyes lingered on mine, simmering with a familiar look.

I recognised her signals of interest and invitation. Reacting to that invitation might be exactly what the doctor ordered. I desperately needed to learn how to balance a love life as well as my career. But the thought of kissing this pretty girl, of getting to know her and falling into bed together…all I seemed to want was another.

Fuck, I havegotto get myself together.

“Enjoy your break,” I said softly.

Not waiting for her to reply, I headed toward the sink, washed my cup, placed it on the draining board, and slipped back into the chaos of healing.

* * * * *

Eight p.m. and I still hadn’t gone home. My last routine surgery went well, but I’d been roped into helping with a few emergencies. I’d decided to stick around just in case anyone needed anything else so I didn’t have the nightmare of being called back later.

Resting in the staffroom, trying to ignore the persistent hunger pains growling in my stomach, I turned on my phone and noticed the security camera app was still open.

I went to turn it off, but the feed zoomed in on Sailor sitting in the centre of her wild garden. Illuminated by the hundreds of fairy lights strung in the citrus trees ringing the flower beds, she looked part fairy herself. She held something in her hands, and every now and again, she swiped at her cheeks as if brushing away tears.

My chest grew tight.

I looked past her to the back door of her house, hoping Lily was around and would gather Sailor in a hug or at least offer an ear to share whatever worries were hurting her.

But no one appeared.

She was all alone, in the dark, crying.

And that’s about as much as I can fucking take.

My hands curled around my phone. Anger splintered through me.

Logging out of the camera feed, I pocketed my phone and headed to Colin’s office, where I stored my personal things while on shift. Grabbing my satchel and keys, I powered through the hospital, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. By sheer luck of the universe, I escaped into the muggy night without being dragged into another emergency.

My black Chrysler beeped as I cut across the car park and pressed the key fob. It roared to life as I threw myself inside and burned unprofessionally fast onto the street.

Every part of me tugged to go home. To sneak over the fence and be that shoulder Sailor needed to cry on. Screw all my previous failures with helping psychologically damaged people. She was hurting. She obviously hadn’t reached out to Dr Klep. She hadn’t confided in her best friend. And she ran away from me as her neighbour.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was hiding her true feelings. And the longer she got away with it and built a false façade, the harder it would be to shatter it.

Not gonna let you spiral, Sailor. Melody would never forgive me.

At the intersection where I usually turned left toward home, I flicked on my indicator and went right. A stupid plan unravelled in my head. A plan that meant I could help her without her knowing it was me. A plan where I became her confessional instead of the guy next door—or the doctor who’d seen her in such a broken state.

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