Page 159 of Boyfriend of the Hour
If it was only like that for us, I was ruined for life.
Which meant if I lost him—and I inevitably would—my heart would be ruined too.
No, I told myself. He said it himself. He likes you just the way you are. There’s nothing that would make him leave now.
The words became a mantra as I drifted off to sleep in Nathan’s strong arms, no different than the fairy tales that danced in my head after bedtime stories as a child.
Just as comforting.
But also, said a small voice that hadn’t quite been lulled to sleep,just as much a lie.
THIRTY-ONE
COMMON KNEE INJURIES FOR DANCERS
#2 Periferal meniscul tear
The light was almost blue when I woke up the next morning. It was early—far earlier than I usually woke up, considering my typically late schedule. I would have thought I was still dreaming if I hadn’t fallen asleep in Nathan’s arms the night before. And this time, he knew it was me he was holding as we both drifted off.
I had never slept better in my life.
Down the hall, I could hear the rumblings of male voices, though whatever they were saying was unintelligible. Probably Nathan and Carrick, who must have returned last night from whatever den he’d found the one before.
I wasn’t sure I cared where that was, so long as he stayed out of Nathan’s and my business. The man had a special talent for making me feel as shitty as possible, but if he thought he was going to use my life to come between me and his brother, he could think again. After last night, I could handle it. I had to.
My stomach rumbled alongside the conversation happening in another room, so I decided to hell with Carrick’s nonexistentsense of propriety as I threw on another of Nathan’s shirts and borrowed a pair of his boxer shorts for good measure since my underwear didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight. I had to roll the waistband about four times so they would stay put, but they worked. And let’s be honest, Carrick had already seen me in a whole lot less.
“I think she’ll be curious to hear your thoughts,” Nathan was saying as I padded down the hallway after brushing the morning out of my mouth. “I looked up her case. They turned her over to Gifford, who did the original surgery.”
“Gifford? He’s a hack. Between you and me, he shouldn’t even have progressed past his first year of residency.”
I turned the corner to find Nathan sitting in the living room. However, it wasn’t Carrick on the other side of the room from him. Instead, a man I’d never met before was sitting on one of the armchairs. He looked to be maybe five or ten years older than Nathan.
Nathan’s eyes popped open when I entered, flickering over my clothes as his cheeks pinked slightly.
Both men stood immediately.
“Um, hello.” I offered a weak wave and suddenly wished I’d done more than shoved my hair into a messy bun. “It’s, um, early.”
Nathan tipped his head kindly. “It’s almost eight o’clock.” He turned to the man. “Jayce, this is my girlfriend, Joni. Joni, this is a mentor of mine, Dr. Jayce McAndrew.”
“Mentor’s probably putting it a bit lightly,” replied Dr. McAndrew with a friendly smile.
“Jayce was a fellow during my first general surgery rotation,” Nathan explained to me.
“Would have kept you on ortho too if you hadn’t been so damn stubborn about burn repair,” McAndrew joked.
“You knew that I intended to become a burn specialist,” Nathan said, seemingly unaware of the humor.
I smiled. He was so earnest, it was adorable.
Feeling more than a little shy to be standing in front of one of Nathan’s colleagues in nothing but his oversized T-shirt and rolled-at-the-waist boxers, I nodded at the men. “Um, nice to meet you, Dr. McAndrew.” I waved at my clothes. “Sorry about this.”
“It’s fine,” said McAndrew said. “And, actually, it will make my job easier.”
I frowned. “Huh?”
“Jayce is the head of orthopedic surgery at Mount Sinai West,” Nathan explained. “He specializes in knee injuries and works extensively with the American Ballet Theatre.”
