Page 41 of One Timer With A Wingman

Him calling me hot causes a blush to crawl up my cheeks.

“Okay.” I wait to see where this conversation is going.

“That’s it. I know we said we’d keep what happened in Punta Cana a secret. I told the guys who were on the trip not to mention anything to anyone about me and you hooking up,” he goes on.

“I appreciate that. Annie and Ruby were grilling me too, but I just made it sound like I hooked up with a random guy,” I say and now he winces. I don’t understand his reaction.

“Yeah, cool, okay,” he mutters. “But it wasn’t a random thing, I mean it was. . .different. . .right?”

His nervous demeanor and question throw me off. Is he saying it was more for him too?

“No, it wasn’t random. It was nice, Aaron,” I admit and that buys me a relaxed smile from him that causes my belly to flip. I shouldn’t still be reacting to him this way.

“Yeah, it was,” he agrees on an exhale that almost sounds like a pleasured sigh.

“But it’s better we move on.” I don’t have time for him. I have to stay focused.

His green eyes narrow. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Not really. I’m fighting a bug,” I admit to him.

“Shit. Sorry. Is there something I can do?” he asks.

Why does he have to be so nice?

“I’m good. I’m going to the campus clinic later. I’m sure they’ll give me some medicine or something.”

“Okay, well…” He stands awkwardly and rubs his hand down his thigh. His thick muscular thigh that causes drool to pool in my mouth. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.” I nod.

Aaron takes off and I indulge in my slice of pizza. After I eat, I feel a lot better and I attend my afternoon classes.

By 4:00 p.m. I’ve checked into the clinic, and I am in a room waiting to see a doctor.

The doctor who enters the room is a man who looks to be in his mid-fifties. “Hello, Ms. Halle, I’m Dr. Sloane, what brings you in today?”

“I’ve been throwing up and I feel queasy and weak,” I explain.

“Any recent travel out of the country?” he asks.

“I was in Punta Cana over Christmas,” I explain.

“Any diarrhea, coughing, runny nose?” he asks.

“No.”

“Are you sexually active?” he asks next.

I shift a little, always feeling uncomfortable about these kinds of questions.

“Yes,” I reply, “but I’m on birth control.”

He types some notes on his computer and turns to look at me. “The fact that you don’t have diarrhea is promising because it rules out you’ve contracted a bacteria overseas. I will need you to do a urine test. I want to check for pregnancy. Once we have that ruled out, then we can move on to blood work,” he explains like it’s routine.

My eyelids flutter fast as I blink numerous times. “A pregnancy test isn’t necessary. I assure you. We can just move on to the blood work.”

Dr. Sloane’s features morph into a sympathetic smile. His eyes creasing at the corners. “I understand you didn’t plan on a pregnancy but given your symptoms, we need to rule it out. It’s not something that can be ignored.”

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