Page 109 of Just (Fake) Married
I turned to look at him, beside me on the bed, lying on his back. His eyes closed. His phone to his ear. His hair was a mess and there was a bite mark on his shoulder. His back, I knew without having to see, was covered in scratch marks from my nails.
My body wasn’t a whole lot better. I tried to roll over, but I was so sore between my legs, I gave up and just laid there. This was a hangover like I’d never had before. But we’d only had a bottle of wine.
It was the sex.
I had a sex hangover.
“Dr. Fleming,” he said, and went from lying flat on his back with his eyes closed to sitting up like he’d been called on by a teacher. “No, this isn’t a bad time at all.”
He must not be sex hungover, I thought, and closed my eyes again because they were tired.
“No…Of course. Actually, May 1stwould be fine.”
My eyes popped open. May 1stwas just after the Feud Day Festival.
He stood and walked over to his desk. I watched him rifle through the drawers, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. He started to write something down, but the pen must not have worked because he tossed it over his shoulder and picked up a pencil that looked like it had Spider-Man all over it. I smiled, thinking about child Ethan loving that pencil.
“I would love to meet the team,” he said, standing straight and looking down at the desk. “I’ve heard incredible things about your department, and your work on minimally invasive tricuspid valve replacement is groundbreaking. It would be a privilege, doctor. Thank you.”
He hung up, smiling to himself, and I, still strung out on orgasms and unaware of the crash landing coming my way, smiled too.
“Good news?” I asked, my voice a croak.
“Job interview,” he said. And the first crack in my postcoital bliss formed. I stiffened. “In Phoenix, at a really prestigious thoracic surgery hospital,” he said, lobbing the words like they didn’t mean anything.
And they didn’t. They totally didn’t. I understood that. I really did. Except naked and covered in his drying come, it felt…awful.
“Wow,” I said, because it sounded important. I sat up, pulling the blanket up and over my body.
“Yeah,” he said with a smile, but his eyes did not meet mine. “It’s an incredible opportunity. The potential is there to be head of thoracic surgery.”
Of course. Because incredible opportunities did not exist in the Gulch. Not for him. That’s why he had to leave the first time. I totally understood that, but somehow the reminder was rather piercing.
I got up out of the bed and pulled my t-shirt on. My underwear. My jeans were a step too far and so were my boots.
“Harmony,” he said, stepping forward like he might touch me. “I’m sorry…”
“There’s literally nothing to be sorry for,” I said with a smile. “We’re temporary and you have a life to live when this is over. I get it. I’m just glad you’re not leaving before the festival.”
“I wouldn’t,” he said. “I promised.”
“Anyway,” I said. “I’ve got to see to the animals. Then check out how much snow we got. See how much of a hassle it will be to get into town.” More smiling. My face was starting to hurt. Everything was starting to hurt.
This was a good reminder. The right kind of reminder. Last night was fun, but that was it.
He looked at me like he didn’t believe me, and whatever. I didn’t need him thinking I was going to be love sick over him. Because I wasn’t.
I wasn’t.
I grabbed my bra from the floor and headed for the door.
“Hey,” he said, and I turned. “You forgot this.”
He stood there naked, beautiful in the early morning sunlight coming through the windows – holding my pink vibrator.
I grabbed it and then I crept out the door, unsure of what time it was. It was impossible to tell with the milky light coming in the windows. I closed his door behind me and crept down the hall towards my room.
“Ethan?” a voice said, and Carter appeared halfway up the stairs. Our eyes met and there was no hiding what was happening. What I’d been doing with Ethan.
