Page 44 of Happily Never After
“You don’t have to be such an ass,” she whisper-hisses, eyes darting toward the nurses’ station behind me like someone might overhear and write her up. “I was just asking a question.”
“A stupid one.” My brow lifts, daring her to argue.
Georgia scoffs and pushes away from the wall. “Maybe I was trying to make polite conversation, then.”
“Well, don’t,” I snap, dragging a hand through my hair. The moment my fingers hit my scalp, I wince.
Left my hat in the fuckin’ truck.
My dad always said it was bad luck for a gentleman to leave the house without his cowboy hat. Worse luck to forget it somewhere.
Not that I’m a gentleman, and I’m already swimming in bad luck, so I guess I’m just keeping the streak alive.
“Insufferable,” she mutters as she starts to pace. “Argumentative. Pig-headed. Emotionally constipated. Giant man-baby with stupid cow-shit cowboy boots and a stupid hat.”
My brows climb higher with each insult, and I don’t even try to hide the smirk forming. She’s not looking at me, just muttering toward the floor like she’s trying to curse me without getting fired.
She scoffs to herself and adds under her breath, “He probably snores like a freight train and chews with his mouth open, too.”
I step into her path, interrupting the one-woman diatribe, and lean in close, voice low and drawling. “You got somethin’ to say, darlin’? Feel free to say it to my face.”
She snaps her gaze up, cheeks flushed, caught off guard by how close I am. Her mouth opens—probably to deny it—but nothing comes out.
“Didn’t peg you for the type to fantasize about my sleeping habits…” My eyes drop to her lips. “Or what my mouth does.”
Her face goesfull sunset-pink.
Bingo.
Pinkis step one in unraveling Georgia.
“You’re impossible and so unbelievably unprofessional, Mr. Archer.”
“And you’re more fun when you’re flustered, Ms. Walker,” I murmur, winking as I step back, slow and satisfied. “Besides, you started it.”
She bites her lip, turning it bright red. I have the strange urge to tug it free.
“I didn’t know I said that out loud.”
My brows go high. “You didn’t know you were whispering non-sense about me?”
“I knew I was doing it in my head.” She looks away. “I ramble when I’m nervous.”
“I’ve noticed.”
We stare at each other for a long moment that only breaks when a nurse pushes past and steps through the door with the fish. My eyes snap up, following her as if I’ll catch a glimpse of what’s waiting for me on the other side as if it’ll somehow magically prepare me.
I hold my breath.
It opens and closes with a tinyclick, and all I get is a peek of more bare walls and low lighting.
“She’s in there?” I ask, my voice coming out rougher than intended.
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Georgia says. Her eyes go wide, and she slaps a hand to her face so loud, I wince. “Shit, I mean, crap. I mean, I’m sorry.” She sighs. “Would you believe me if I said it’s a reflex?”
“To insult me?”
She lifts a shoulder and gives me an embarrassed smile. “Yes?”
