Page 6 of Resist Me Not
Okay, now I have to ask him about the camera and what he does—
His hand catches my attention as he’s bringing it back to my face. He’s wearing a ring. My stomach flips for about ten seconds before I remember facing each other means that is his right hand, not his left.
He notices how hard I was staring at it though, which at a glance looks like a basic band, but there’s this tiny design on it like a compass star.
“I’m not married,” Trey says, reading me as easily as a billboard sign apparently. “Not seeing anyone either. I just liked the ring and the meaning behind always having a compass close. Nothing is more important than going in the direction one’s life needs to take, even if we’re not always certain of where we’re headed. Nights out are part of the gig when you do what I do, so I do move the ring to my left hand sometimes when I want to be left alone.”
“And what you do is… espionage?” I laugh and finally nod at the camera.
Trey laughs too. “I work for Manifest Ventures. It’s a US-based travel and exploration company. We have a physical publication but primarily rely on online articles these days. I specialize in frequenting and writing about the most unique and unusual attractions to visit in cities all across the country. I even do one international article a year, but the idea is to get people to go places and try new things right in their own backyards that they didn’t know existed. Influencers love me,” he adds with a wink.
I laugh again. “That is actually super cool.” I knew the camera had a sane explanation, but it still makes me wonder if he saw me and Curtis before he saved me. But when he’s this hot and gentle-handed, does it matter? “I can see how you’d be good at exploring a city. You’re pretty observant, given you noticed me checking out the ring. I also suck at subterfuge, but no getting anything by you, huh?”
“Not usually. Although I didn’t anticipate breaking up a screaming match this morning.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. He’s the one who should be sorry.”
“I’m pretty sure he is with that broken wrist.”
“Good.” Trey sets aside the antiseptic to study my cut. “Now that it’s clean, it’s not looking too bad. I think a little Dermabond should do the trick.”
“You have Dermabond in your first aid kit? That’s not usually standard.”
“I specialize in the unusual, remember? Sometimes it’s necessary, which is why I bring my own kit with me and don’t rely on what a hotel provides.” He produces a Dermabond pen from the kit and starts applying it to glue my cut sealed like he’s done this before. I guess he has. He must have a million stories.
“What are some of the strangest places you’ve been?” I ask.
“How about… a psychedelic mirror maze? An enclosed crystal bridge that houses a giant botanical garden? A room lit in neon pink for sound and experience that is the culmination of the works of a visual artist and a musician like living in a waking dream.”
“You made that one up!”
“It was riveting! I have also been to Grumpy Cat’s grave.”
I laughagain, which I really need to stop doing, because Trey has to keep pausing in his glueing. “Just as riveting as the waking dream room?”
“Life changing.”
This time, I purse my lips to avoid laughing. I’ve never had such an instant connection with someone before. It almost feels too good to be true.
“There we are,” Trey says with an appraising look at my cut again. “All finished.”
I kind of wish he wasn’t done yet. I could stare into those black eyes all day, and hear his deep voice describe weird places around the country. “Aren’t you going to kiss it to make it better?” I don’tmeanit and feel ridiculous as soon as the words leave my lips.
But Trey smiles, leans forward, and presses his lips so lightly above the cut—since on it might have glued him to my face—that I don’t feel any sting, just another tingle. “How is that? Better?”
“Y-yeah. Thanks, Daddy.”
Oh God! Why did I follow up a bad joke with a worse one?!
“I am so sorry!” I lean back feeling like my face must be burning, and not from nerves trying to recover in my healing cut. “I don’t know why I said that! I am so not into that type of thing!”
Trey tilts his head, like he’s studying me. Considering whether to kick me out? But he never loses his smile. “Strangely, I don’t think I mind that endearment from you, doctor. Will I be seeing you again for one to possibly four dates?” He reaches into his messenger bag for his phone, unlocks the screen, and passes it to me.
He is really smooth. “I suppose you do have better bedside manner than most of my fellow residents used to. Okay.” I input my number asDoctorWalker. “Let’s start with one and see if I let you get to four.”
“You will,” he says in that panty-dropping voice of his.
