Page 12 of Lovetown, USA
I’m sure that’s exactly what she wanted.
Asia walks by and grabs the rapid test. While we wait, I return to my stool. We’re only about ten inches away from each other. The air between us is tight. The silence is charged. She sits there with her eyes closed nursing a pounding headache, I’m sure. I take the opportunity to stare at her.
At her full lips. Her skin, which I now know is soft as silk. Her hair, pulled back off a gorgeous face that appears to be untouched by makeup. Nice perky breasts. Curvy waist…
I clear my throat. “Where are you from?”
She opens her eyes and smiles. “You have the honor and the pleasure of speaking to a real live Georgia peach.”
“Interesting.” I rub my chin. “What brings you here?”
“I’m writing a story on the town. I’m a journalist.”
“Let me guess…Lovetown. Real Love, or Bullshit?”
She snickers. “I might just win a Pulitzer for exposing the grand conspiracy.”
“Good luck with that,” I say as I settle in front of the computer to see if I can find her electronic health record. It’s a long shot, I know, and sure enough, it’s not there. Whoever she normally sees doesn’t share records with the system I use.
As I switch back to her chart, I’m acutely aware of her eyes on me. It’s almost like I can feel them heating my skin one inch at a time.
I don’t know shit about this woman beyond what’s on my computer screen, but that’s just data. What my body’s feeling right now is so much deeper than that.
Then a notification pops up. “According to the rapid tests, you are officially negative for COVID and negative for strep. It’s probably just a little irritation.”
“And what do you suggest I do about it, Doctor?”
My fingers pause over the keys as my skin prickles. Goose bumps erupt all over my body, and there’s a little tickle in my brain from the way her voice sounded when she said that to me. Nah, she didn’t say it. Shepurredit.
“Get some rest,” I say. “Plenty of fluids.”
“Cool. I can do that.”
It seems safe to turn around and look at her, but just when I do, she stands and stretches. I stare at her again, her legs,her mouth, the confident way she slides her sunglasses onto her face.
Something about this woman is mesmerizing.
I clear my throat. “Stop by the counter on your way out, and my nurse will get you squared away. Don’t hesitate to call the office if your condition worsens.”
She stares up at me. “Your office?”
“Yes…”
She smiles. “Okay. I’ll callyour office.”
She lingers at the door, and a long beat of silence ensues.
Finally, I nod. “Take care, Ms. Washington.”
And then she’s gone.
And I’m kicking myself.Again.
But there was nothing to be done. That’s a line I cannot and will not cross. When a woman is in my office, she’s a patient, and patients are off limits.
But I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want her. No, Ihaveto have that woman, and soon. So, what has to happen now is that I need to see her again.
And when I do…
