Pretend You’re Mine

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Pretend You’re Mine Page 17

by Black, Natasha L.


  “Before our next patients, can I just say holy hell were those two hot? One hot boxer is omg-worthy enough, but TWINS?”

  When a quick scan for our stick-up-the-ass supervisor Viola revealed a clear coast, I allowed myself a smile. “They really were.”

  Penelope sighed. “I’ve been to a couple of Jake’s fights. Seeing Owen in business mode and Jake in the ring, it’s orgasm-worthy, I swear to God.”

  “Penelope!”

  She laughed. “What? It’s true.” She bopped me with her hip. “You should come to one of his fights sometime.”

  I pretended to peer at Jake’s chart, which was pointless since he was gone by now. “Boxing matches aren’t really my thing.”

  “How do you know if you’ve never been?”

  When I didn’t respond, she continued, “Which was your favorite?”

  “We’re on duty,” I said curtly.

  There was more than that, truthfully. Replaying what had just happened with the twins made my head spin and my stomach churn. When was the last time I’d been this attracted to anyone, let alone two anyones?

  “Ok, so you may be right,” Penelope said, her tone was as unrepentant as ever. “About them and the sanctity of work and all of that nonsense. But girl, could you please let me set you up with this great guy I met?” Her hand batted a stray dark curl off her temples. “He’s my friend’s brother, which I didn’t realize until the date itself. Which meant that anything beyond the chaste cheek kiss we shared at the end of the night would be impossible.”

  I tried to avoid her gaze for as long as possible, hoping she’d drop it and find something else to do, but I knew better. She’d been after me for the better part of six months. “Sure,” I finally said.

  “Really?”

  I peered past Penelope’s shoulder, which showed that the next patient was nearly here. “Really,” said.

  “You know it would be good for you,” she was saying. “Two years in the desert…”

  “Pen,” I warned her.

  She stuck her tongue out at me. “You know I hate that nickname.”

  “And you know how I hate when you refer to what I’ve been through as ‘the desert’.”

  “Fine, fine.” Penelope’s stray dark curl was back and bobbing along to what she said.

  She quieted down just in time for the patient to arrive. Turned out he was another fall and cut case, which we dealt with quickly enough.

  No sooner had he left, humming a happy tune, then did Penelope turn to me with a triumphant smile. “There. Sent it.”

  “What?”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “Paul. That guy I told you about.”

  Grabbing my phone, she let out a squeal as she checked it. “He already texted you!”

  I could only glare at her. “Should I not have?”

  When I didn’t respond, she grabbed her phone. “Ugh, there I go again, Meddling Penelope. Don’t you worry. I’ll text him saying it was the wrong number, then.”

  I put my hand over her phone. “It’s fine.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Penelope declared, “So if you two get married you totally have to make me your maid of honor.”

  “Jesus Penelope, settle down. I have agreed to one date, let’s not go dress shopping just yet,” I said to her, annoyed. Why had I agreed to do this?

  As if reading my mind, Penelope leaned in and said, “Because I’m your best friend.”

  And only friend, I thought to myself. After the accident, I’d lost touch with most of our friends. Not by any conscious choice, it just hurt too much to see them, to have to talk about it.

  “You should wear that red dress you have,” Penelope was saying. Oh, and one more thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Your shift is over, get out of here.”

  My gaze swept to the clock. Whoa, it was. Guess time flies when you’re thinking of hot boxer twins.

  I shook the thought out of my mind as I got ready to leave. It didn’t matter how hot the twins were, or how much they’d seemed to be attracted to me too. There was little to no chance of ever seeing them again, so I might as well put it out of my mind.

  I was halfway out the door when Penelope’s text came my way. I still hadn’t checked the three that Paul had sent me, but hers came up on my screen. BTW, I suggested he take you to Pickle Barrel.

  I sighed as I unlocked my car door. I knew that Penelope only had my best interests at heart, but I just wasn’t ready to date again. The thought of it made me supremely uncomfortable. I took some solace in the fact that I would be so busy with extra shifts that I’d picked up that it would be two weeks before I’d even have time to go on a date. Hopefully by then Penelope would have forgotten all about it.

  Another message from her pinged on my phone reminding me that there was little to no chance of that happening.

  Want to read more? Click here to get the full story.

  A Note from the Author

  Thank for you taking the time to read my latest novel Pretend You’re Mine.

  I hope you loved reading my story, as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  It would mean the world to me if you could take some time to leave a quick review for this book. Reviews allow me to understand how my readers truly feel, and they keep me improving.

  I appreciate you supporting me, thank you so much.

  - Natasha L. Black

  About the Author

  Natasha L. Black is an emerging author of Contemporary Romance. This is Natasha’s fourth book.

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