Page 41 of Irresistibly Risky

My heart thumps in my chest, and I bite into my lip, trying to squash the feeling. “Yes. We’ll move in with you for a while. Once your season is over and we don’t have to keep it as quiet as we do now, we’ll readdress it.”

He gives me that cocky, sure-fire smirk he’s famous for. “You’ll be in love with me by then, Doctor. No chance you’ll readdress anything.”

“That’s really not the type of woman I am.” I’m not sure if it’s a lie either. Before Mason, there was a reason I never dated much, and anyone I ever did date didn’t last very long.

He chuckles lightly. Contentedly. “Thank you. When will you move in?” His smile slips into a deep frown. “I won’t be able to help much now, will I?”

Before I can answer, the curtain is yanked open and I immediately draw back. Dr. Callan Barrows comes flying in before stopping dead in his tracks when he takes us both in.

“Hi,” he says, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and amusement. His eyes are on Asher for a moment, as if something is passing between them, and then he turns his full focus on me. “Dr. Callan Barrows.” He extends his hand. “We haven’t officially met yet, though I haven’t stopped hearing about you.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I laugh it off as I stand, shaking his hand. “Dr. Wynter Hathaway. I recognized you.”

His eyebrows bounce. “Oh, is that so? Don’t tell Asher that. You’ll break his heart since you didn’t recognize him.”

“The hell?!” Asher growls. “For real? You recognized him and not me?”

I twist back to Asher with a grin. “What? I like drummers.”

Callan barks out a laugh, taking the chair beside Asher’s bed.

Asher leans back, covering his face with his hands. “You’re killing me with that, Doctor.”

I shrug unrepentantly. He doesn’t need to know that I looked him up after I found out who he was.

“Will you be taking Mr. Reyes home after his surgery?” I ask Callan.

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Did you want to observe it?”

Both Callan and Asher sit up straight, exchanging looks. “Can I?” Callan finally asks.

“If you’d like. But only from the gallery.”

“You cool with that, man?”

Asher scoffs. “Of course I’m cool with it. At least if you’re watching, then I know she won’t stab me with a scalpel or cut off my balls or something.”

“I can promise you, Mr. Reyes, I won’t ever be touching your balls.”

He tilts his head and grins in a way that makes his chin dimple pop. “Don’t make promises like that, Doctor. It’ll only make you a liar later.”

I shake my head. A player is going to play. I just refuse to be his game. “I’ll see you in there.”

I leave the two of them and head to the OR. My heart starts to pound out a heavy, steady rhythm as I begin the process of scrubbing in, and then once that’s done, I enter the room. There are only two places in this world I feel in control. Here and on the ice. They’re the places I am most at ease, most confident.

I see all those moms whose hair and makeup are always flawless, and they never have a splatter of anything unwanted on their pristine, trendy clothes. They’re living their best lives while juggling their babies on their hips, as they dominate the world on their phone while sipping their organic caffeine-infused herbal whatever, and have everything planned out and organized down to the second.

I am not that mother. I am the textbook definition of an overachieving hot mess who can’t stand the wild chaos of her hot mess life.

Except in here.

“Good morning, everyone,” I greet. “How are we today? All set?”

“We are,” Chandra, the scrub nurse tells me. “Just waiting on our celebrity patient.”

“Good stuff.” I thank her as she gowns and gloves me up. I head over to the table, going through everything with the staff and Jequai and making sure we have everything we need. A minute later, Asher is rolled in, wearing a mesh cap over his head and a petrified expression.

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