Page 120 of White Raven
“Fair point.”
She watched him smile and nod at a few familiar-looking nurses that looked like they were making their way to the cafeteria while they waited for the doors to open. He seemed lighter. Happier. More relaxed. A whole different Brent Stratford than the polished stickler that Sarah fell for, once upon a time. She didn’t even realize she’d been staring, until he pointed it out.
“Sadly, this particular elevator tends to be a little crowded…if you were thinking about getting a piece ofthisbad-boy,” he smirked, nodding down at his crotch.
Wren snorted. “Please don’t ever call it that again. Idiot.” He nudged her arm with his elbow, and she slammed hers into his tit.
“Oww,shit. Fine…‘The Panty-Shredder’then.”
“Oh, my God…stop.” Wren shoved him as the doors opened, and they parted to let a few people out before laughing their way in. Only two nurses stood behind them as the car started moving up.
“Mr. Stratford?” one of them asked, urging them both to turn around.
“Miss Browning!” he smiled sweetly, lighting up like a Christmas tree. “How are you?” He reached an arm out, and the older woman leaned in, and they lightly hugged before pulling apart.
“I’m well! I almost didn’t recognize you. You both look…fantastic,” she smiled, looking them both over. Wren returned her gesture and nodded. “Miss Vintorri, your eye looks great. Like it never even happened. Warms my heart to see you together.”
Together.
Wren and Brent glanced at each other, unsure how to respond—unsure…exactlywhatthey were. The most awkward of silences sat like a boulder between them all. Brent cleared his throat. “Are you on Dr. Ambrose’s shift today?”
“Yeah, but only until six. My husband is home from business this week and I think we’re gonna have a night on the town. She told us you’d be stopping in with your girlfriend. I was hoping I’d see you before I left.”
Girlfriend…
It was hard not to notice that he intentionally avoided her stare…or that he seemed to be getting a little hot in the elevator, if the tugging at the collar of his knit sweater was any indication. “I, uh…she’s—”
“Keeping him busy,” Wren cut him off, winding an arm around his back, and bumping him with her hip. “Wearing off the new. You get it.”
Nurse Browning grinned approvingly. “I never trust newspapers, but I’m glad the few things I read were right. You both went through so much. We’re all really glad you have each other.”
Devil take the damn press…fucking tabloids.
The doors opened behind them, and Wren glanced over her shoulder. “Thank you…you know, for everything you guys did for us. We’re really grateful. This is our stop.”
“Well, it’s our job, and we’re happy to do it. It does us all good to see our patients come out on top. I’ve got some lab work runs I’ve gotta do, but I hope we see you again.”
Brent nodded as they made their way out. “You will. Thank you again.” They waved politely and started down the hall, and she could feel him tense with every step. “Thanks for that. I’m sorry I used thatparticularword. I should have warned you…or at least asked first, I wasn’t thinking.”
Wren smiled to herself, looking ahead. “Shut the hell up. You’re not sorry.”
He chuckled as they approached the nurse’s station. “You’re right.” He stopped them at the desk, and turned toward her, taking her waist. “So…that mean I get to call you my girlfriend?” His hair was growing out, and it hung over his brow, accentuating that shit-eating grin. Wren leaned a little closer.
“Is chivalry dead, bitch-boy?”
He pressed his forehead against hers and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, and she couldn’t help but bite down on hers. “Wren Vintorri? Will you do me the honor…in the same hospital that I accidentally flashed you my ‘nice ass’ and left with a boner…” Wren scoffed, recalling the night they’d made out in her room. “Of being my girlfriend?”
“You are so fucking cringe.”
“That a yes, then?” he asked, pulling her flush against him.
“I hate you…yes.”
He kissed her. Deep and slow. All the sappy and romantic shit she painstakingly avoided was becoming less and less disgusting by the second, until—
“Ahem,” a voice cut in. They paused, mid-liplock and opened their eyes. “I ah…hate to break this up, but I’ve got a surgery in an hour.” They turned their heads to see Dr. Ambrose smirking at them over her stupid glasses—glasses Wren almost figured were fake at this point. She sure hadn’t needed them to find Brent’s body parts that day at his apartment.
“Right,” Brent stumbled, peeling away. “S-sorry.”
