Page 57 of Desperate Desires

Truth was, I did not know how to do this. My last actual boyfriend had been while I was in med school, and he’d been just as busy as me.

We used to compare schedules and pencil each other in for dates and sex. Which was probably why it had ended so quickly.

I’d never considered settling down with anyone, but the feelings I had for Ono defied reason. I wanted more from him than the occasional booty call, but I didn’t know how to tell him.

Would I come off as needy? Would he laugh in my face?

“This is why people use apps,” I told myself, walking to throw out my now empty coffee cup.

The lounge door creaked open, cutting through the clinical hum of the room.

Instinctively, I flicked my gaze toward the entrance, expecting to see another exhausted resident, or maybe a nurse, grabbing a quick break.

But no.

Shock rooted me to the spot like I’d been struck by lightning.

It was him.

“Ono?” I breathed, barely aware I’d said his name aloud.

My mind scrambled to catch up.

How? When? Why?

Questions buzzed through my brain like an overcharged circuit board. I’d spent so many hours thinking about him, imagining different scenarios of when, or really if, I’d see him again today.

But none of those thoughts prepared me for the real thing.

He was here. Now. In the flesh.

And God help me, he looked good—too good.

Ono’s electric blue eyes locked onto me, sharp and piercing, as though he were memorizing every inch of me from head to toe.

His gaze heated.

Curious.

Intense.

I shifted slightly under the weight of his attention, suddenly all too aware of what I was wearing.

Awful green hospital scrubs. With bright white Crocs on my feet.

The tops were always too big around my breasts and too damn tight on the bottom where the fabric squeezed my hips. The pants strangled my thighs unless I wore them two sizes too big for my waist, which I did, making the material sag between my legs as if making space for my imaginary dick.

They were godawful and did absolutely nothing to flatter my shape.

They clung to me in all the wrong places and hung on me in others like a shapeless sack.

Plus, they were wrinkled from the endless hours of movement, and I was pretty sure there was a pretty suspicious stain somewhere near my hip.

What did he have on? Just another of his tailor made suits that had him looking like a damn movie star.

Of course he did.

Perfect. Just perfect.

---