Page 5 of Wes
On cue, my phone vibrates, and I crack my eyelids open to a preview of a text from Bridge. I sigh and unlock the phone.
Bridgette: What the hell? Why did Mary Beth drop off Reece? Where did you go? I thought you were coaching tonight?
Before I can type out a reply, someone knocks on the door.
“Come in.”
The deep pools of Natalia’s eyes meet mine, and I lower my phone to my side. “Dr. Rivers thought you might want the ibuprofen now. I also found an ice pack you can use in the meantime.”
I don’t move or speak, afraid I’ll do something stupid to send her away. A little angel on my shoulder reminds me nothing can come out of this. I’m taking a hiatus from women. The vasectomy was my first step in protecting another child from pain. The devil on my other shoulder sends me images of Natalia under me, her hair splayed across my pillow and her lips puffy from my kisses.
Natalia hands me a small paper cup, and I toss back the pill inside it. I accept the other paper cup and follow the ibuprofen with water. She smiles and it brightens her face, pulling me in. I want to do whatever possible to keep her smile in place.
Without my direction, my fingers wrap around her wrist. “I really am sorry about earlier.”
“It’s okay…”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not. How old is your son?”
She studies me, wrinkles forming along her forehead. My thumb caresses the soft skin on her arm, and I soak in the moment while I give her time to answer me.
“Fourteen.”
I stare back with surprise. All the facts I’ve concluded about her spin circles in my mind, and she pulls her arm back. Reluctantly, I let her go. “Sorry, I’m just surprised.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Why?”
“You don’t look old enough to have a fourteen-year-old.”
“Well, prepare to have your mind blown because he turns fifteen next month.”
She’s pissed. Angry eyes shoot daggers at me, daring me to judge her. I peer down and notice there isn’t a ring on her finger. I’m already in the dog house where she’s concerned, and I’ve been told on multiple occasions I’m like a dog with a bone.
“How old were you when—”
“Twenty-one, not that it’s any of your business.” She firmly plants a white square by my knee. “There’s your ice pack. I’ll be back with your papers.”
“Wait!” I plead and do the math in my head. She isn’t as young as I pegged her to be. “I—shit, I suck at this.” I mutter the latter to myself. “Look, I’m not great at small talk. I really meant no harm. Based on how old I guessed you were, I thought he was younger. That’s all.”
Natalia studies me for a minute, and the hardness in her face lessens. “Apology accepted. How old is your son?”
I smile at the mention of Reece. “Fifteen.”
Her face scrunches in thought, and I’m shocked to find it adorable. The more time I spend with her, the more I realize I’m attracted to her. I should stop this and allow her to return to her work, but I can’t.
“I’m forty.”
“I wasn’t—”
I raise my brow and smirk.
“Okay, I was trying to remember what I read on your admittance papers,” she says, and a blush highlights her cheeks.
I wonder if she blushed when she saw my dick earlier. Damn, I wish I looked at her face, but I was embarrassed by the doctor noting my thickening length.
“I know this is unorthodox, but can I have your number?” The words are out of my mouth before I can so much as blink. My heart thumps in my chest, and her lips form an O of surprise. Part of me silently pleads with her to grant me the honor, and the other part is cursing me for being all sorts of stupid.
An announcement goes off on the loudspeaker, and she stiffens. “I have to go,” she says and runs out before answering my question.
I’m left staring at the spot she was standing in. It’s probably for the best. Women can bring complications. I have enough of those even with Bridgette out of my life. You’d think things would get better after a divorce, but they haven’t.
A woman like Natalia could be different if I stopped acting like an idiot.
