Page 19 of A Million Times, Yes
She stopped in front of me, her neck turning, her eyes staying on me. “‘Sorta’?”
“I met up with Jordan.”
“Oh my God.” She shook my shoulder. “And?”
I glanced down the hallway, making sure no one was within earshot, and whispered, “We had sex under the bridge.”
“It’s about time you turn into a sexy minx!” She playfully slapped my arm. “I’m proud of you.”
“It was reckless.”
“Eh. I disagree.”
“And it was wild.” I pushed against my chest, my heart still beating as though I’d just had an orgasm.
“Wild in the best way.”
“And absolutely everything I needed.”
“Damn right it was!”
My head tilted back as though I was dreaming, drips from my just-showered hair rolling down the back of my neck. “Em, I was right about him.” I looked at her again. “He’s an animal in every way we thought he would be.” I tried to keep my voice down, but it was becoming hard. “He held me in his arms against a wall, and that’s how we did it. Who does it like that? Certainly not the guys I’ve been with.”
“I’m literally dying right now.” Her other hand went to my opposite shoulder. “Keep going.”
“It was mind-blowing and a little dirty, and then I took off and ran five miles because I was so worked up, I needed to cool myself down.”
“So is this becoming a thing? You and him?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. We didn’t exchange numbers or anything like that. I left before we could talk about running together or even anything that remotely looks like that. He already told me he doesn’t date, so this might just be a physical thing.”
“And you’re cool with that?”
Her blond hair was in a bun, with small pieces dangling by her ears and her cheeks and a few near her eyes. I tucked them back and said, “I don’t know what I am at the moment. I feel like I’m on fire.”
“That’s completely understandable.”
“I think it’s too early to know if I’m cool with anything aside from havingthatagain. And by ‘that,’ I mean everything he did to me this morning and more.”
As she smiled, she shook her head. “I’m loving every second of this.”
I laughed. “Me too.” The light above my patient’s door lit up. “Shit. I’ve got to go.”
“I’ll help you. Come on.”
I closed out the computer and gave the door a quick knock before I walked in. “Hi, Bettie. How’s everything going?”
Bettie Hall, an eighty-four-year-old, had come to our rehab facility after a knee replacement. She’d started with private care at home, but after almost falling, she thought it would be best if she was in a facility that was designed for this type of care and where she could be monitored. She had curly, silver hair and a set of blue eyes that missed nothing, with a sense of humor I couldn’t get enough of. I enjoyed most of my patients, but I loved Bettie.
“It would be a lot better if I could get up and boogie.” She waved the air and winked at me. “I’m hoping you can help me to the restroom. Your darling kitchen staff has refilled my coffee cup three times. Whoa. This old bird needs to relieve herself.”
I moved to one side of her bed while Emily went to the other. “You’re not old, Bettie. You’re seasoned.”
She touched my face. “Oh dear, I like you.” She gave me a light pat. “What’s different about you today?”
“My hair. I couldn’t bother with it, so I tied it up while it was still wet.”
“No, no.” She studied my face. “That’s not what I’m seeing.”
