Page 4 of Resist Me Not
“No. Much as I appreciate the broken wrist, because he definitely deserved that, he’d only try to use it for sympathy and turn things against me. He still might.”
“I am sorry if I made things worse by intervening.”
“No!” He lowers his hand and summons a smile again, much as the strain makes his injured cheek twitch. “I’m just a terrible judge of character. He’s never hit me before though.”
“From my experience, if someone can hit once, they can and will again.”
“Yeah. Well, luckily I’m done with him. I only came back for my textbook. I never plan to see him again.”
“Good.” That means he has no reason to go back inside that apartment building, which could have complicated things for me later on. He also doesn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry.“Listen, I’m staying across the street. I always keep a first aid kit with me if you’d like to avoid a hospital visit.”
“Oh, I just finished my residency.” Which means Handsome Med Student is actually HandsomeDoctor. He clutches his bag again, and if I am reading him right, which I usually am, it’s from nerves, not defensiveness. “I wouldn’t want to bother you. I can take care of it myself.”
“You live nearby?”
“No. I took the bus here.”
“Then my room is closer, and if you happen to need stitches, you can let me know how good of a job I do,Doctor. I promise it won’t be my first time.”
He chuckles again, and his cheeks flush redder. His body language tells me he doesn’t date much, but when he does, he is all in, which is probably why he is hesitant to accept my offer so soon after a breakup, but still interested enough that he eventually blurts, “Why not? Going up to a stranger’s hotel room is probably the stupidest thing someone who just admitted they’re a bad judge of character should do right now, but I don’t think you look like someone who secretly wants to tie me up and keep me in their basement.”
“Oh, not you.” I grin. “Andifyou, certainly not for anything other than mutually beneficial reasons.”
The louder laugh that escapes him finally banishes the lingering tension in his shoulders. “So you’re the knight in shining armor type who only saves the prince so he can bang him later?”
“Not on a first date. I would wine and dine you until at least the fourth.”
I have him in stitches now, which makes him hiss again, since the constant smiling is increasing the need for stitches on his cut. But as he resists touching it again, his brow scrunches withthe most adorable pinch of concentration. “Why the fourth date and not the third?”
“Everyone expects the third-date rule. By making someone wait, they know to not expect the ordinary from me. And it usually makes them want it more once we get there.” Given how quickly my interest in someone diminishes, I don’t waste time before making my intentions clear.
And being blunt either prompts my object of desire to be on their way or keeps them right where I want them just like I have Handsome Doctor on my hook. He teeters forward, gray eyes darkening to near navy, as if I have twisted him up in silk bindings and tugged him forward by the neck—a tempting image. “Now you’ve gone and spoiled the surprise by telling me what to expect on the fourth date.”
“Guess you’ll have to agree to four dates then to find out if I follow through. But saying yes isn’t a prerequisite for me helping you with that cut. If the answer to a date is no, I’ll keep my hands to myself, other than as needed on that handsome face of yours.”
His heated expression cracks with another surprised chuckle. He isn’t used to this level of candor, but I think he is starting to realize he likes it. “Okay. As in I agree to the free first aid and putting way more faith in a stranger than I should, but any dates will have to wait until I see your bedside manner.”
“Deal. And may I ask my doctor in distress’s name?” I gesture him across the street. A distraction of mutual satisfaction is always worth a slight change in the day’s plans. I can still make my lunch date later and save travel writing for the afternoon.
“You first, sir knight.”
“Trey Fisher. A pleasure to meet you.”
“You too, Trey. I’m Walker.DoctorWalker Hammond.”
Chapter two
WALKER
Doctor in distress. This guy is smooth. He has short brown hair without a strand out of place like he’s never gone a week without a trim, and his eyes are so dark, they look more black than brown. He’s paler than me, but not like he never sees the sun. He’s also tall, trim, and flawlessly put together as if he just left some summer photoshoot for young professionals.
Who wears a white blazer in this city? The smog alone should have tinted it gray by now, but it looks pristine on him. It’s still early in the day, but he gives off this vibe ofdirt beware—or else.
“Or you might come to regret it,”like he said to Curtis.
Curtis, who probably scarred me if this cut is as bad as it feels.
I should go to the hospital. I shouldn’t trust some stranger with fixing up a cut likely to be jagged and ripe for infection. But as much as I might be entertaining myself with the idea of dust not daring to go against my knight in shining armor, I don’t want to go against him either. He has this low, even-toned voice that just hits differently, like a narration from Sam Elliott. Plus, he introduced himself by breaking my ex’s wrist. This kind of guy is supposed to stroll up looking like Swayze fromRoadhouse, not 007 without the bowtie. The juxtaposition is such an especially potent turn on, I am actually going up to this guy’s hotel room at nine in the morning.
