by Amy Daws
“Why the hell not?” I bark.
“Because I was afraid that if you knew about it, you’d go through with the surgery just for me and not for yourself.”
This gives me pause. “Thinking pretty highly of yourself again I see.”
She rolls her eyes. “No, I think highly of you, Camden. And I think you’re the type to put the well-being of others above your own.” She swallows nervously. “What’s really wrong? It’s more than the article.”
I squint harshly at her, frustrated that she really doesn’t see it. All the possibility. “It’s everything. And it’s nothing.”
I move to stand up, but Indie moves closer to me and reaches out. Her hands are cool and damp on my arms. I pause, watching her chew her lip with worry.
“You need this surgery, Cam. That’s not me speaking as your doctor but as your friend. Regardless of whether or not you ever kick a ball again in your entire life, you’re going to want a properly operating knee.”
I shake my head angrily. “You think we’re mates? I can’t even trust you right now.”
“Of course you can,” she says urgently, looking up at me with wide, hurt eyes.
“Well, what am I supposed to think, Indie? I get here and find out about this publication right before I get wheeled into the place where you’re going to dice me up. My dad shows up and tells me all this stuff about my mum that makes me think of you, and I feel like the biggest jerk on the planet because I’m in this alone. I’m fucking lost and the only thing I know I want, I can’t have!”
“What is that?” she asks with a gasp.
“You! Bloody hell, I want you, Specs. After all this bullshit and stress and low after low, all I want is you. But you don’t want me.”
She makes a move to reply but I cut her off.
“Everybody is pulling strings and, no matter what I do, I can’t seem to get away from them.”
“I’m not pulling strings, Cam. I care about you.” Her voice trembles.
“You care about the surgery.”
I move to slide off the table, but she holds me still again as she snaps, “Stop saying that!”
“Fine, let’s just get on with the surgery,” I mutter, feeling completely mind-fucked to my limit. “Maybe when I wake up I won’t remember any of this.”
“Camden—”
“Leave it. I mean it. This injury has fucked with so much more than my knee.”
“Damnit, Cam,” she growls and grabs my face so hard I feel every one of her fingertips pressed against my skin.
But the next thing I feel is not hard and biting.
It’s soft and supple.
It’s her lips on mine.
They stroke my mouth over and over, and the sensation is so perfect that I’m certain I am dreaming.
“What are you doing?” my voice quakes as our mouths break apart. Her face is centimetres from mine, yet I squeeze her arms in my hands, fearful they might disappear beneath my touch.
But the warmth of her laboured breath feels so real.
Staring at my lips, she whispers, “I’m finally juggling.”
Once again, I swear I am dreaming. Brown eyes crawl up my face and lock on mine. I tilt my head and pull away from her for better perspective. There’s no way she just kissed me in her OR. There’s no way she just repeated that pun she wrote inside my novel so long ago. My brain has to be messing with me, and this is all an illusion from the IV drug cocktail that nurse gave me.
She moves toward me again, and my eyes swim with desperation as I cup her face in my hands. “Don’t kiss me again, Indie.” My voice is thick and heavy. “Because I’m trembling from how badly I want you. And if I kiss you, I will lose my fucking mind.”
“So lose it with me,” she says simply, with all the confidence in the world. Then she whispers three words against my lips that make me come completely undone. “I am thine.”
Just before she touches her lips to mine, my eyes begin to sting, so I hold her away from me to stare at her one last time. The warmth of her cheeks against my palms confirms that she is real and this is happening.
Swallowing hard, I whisper back, “Thou art mine.”
No more words are needed. No more questions are asked. No more strings are pulled. Simply put, we create the most soul-crushing kiss of all time. We are two hearts connecting on another worldly plane manifesting in this physical act right here. All the anger and frustration between our communication issues comes to a head with the pure, undiluted honesty of lips, tongues, hands, and bodies.
I wrap my arms around her ribs and hug her tightly, pulling her as close to me as I can so I can feel every beat of her heart. But realisation of what we’re doing and where we’re doing it dawns on me much too quickly. I regrettably pull back. “What did you just do, Specs? You’re going to lose your job.”
“I don’t care.” She smiles with hooded eyes and moves to kiss me again.
“That was a stupid thing to do, Indie Porter. This was a great opportunity for you,” I murmur, staring down at her swollen lips and aching to touch them again.
She huffs out a soft laugh. “I think it’s the smartest thing I’ve done all week.”
I groan and hug her to me. Her selflessness is utterly mind-blowing. Shocking, unexpected, and fascinating on so many levels. Then, in a flash, my arrogance drops. “If you walk out there and tell my brothers I needed a kiss before surgery, I’ll make you pay.”
“Never,” she smirks and kisses me sweetly for good measure. “I think I was the one who needed the kiss. But I will say, if I’m going to lose my job over a kiss, that one was definitely worth it.”
She pulls away when we hear giggles waft through the door that Dr. Prichard is now waltzing through.
With a heavy sigh, he says, “I thought you were smarter than this, Indie.”
She begrudgingly releases me, takes a step back, and straightens her posture. Shooting Dr. Prichard a hard look, she replies, “It’s Dr. Porter. Please refer to me as such from now on.”
With that, she walks out with her shoulders held high and I do nothing to conceal the Camden Harris proud-as-fuck-smirk on my face.
“TELL ME WHAT I’M HEARING isn’t true,” Belle says, rushing up to me in the on-call room.
“It’s probably true,” I reply while stuffing my locker belongings into a garbage bag. “What’d you hear?”
“Indie Crazy Girl Porter! Did you seriously snog Camden Harris in your OR?” Belle knocks the bag out of my hand and turns me to face her head-on, practically slamming me up against the locker. My face evidently tells her everything she needs to know. “What the fuckity fuck?”
Shaking my head, I say, “I didn’t plan to do it, but I had to do something.”
“Why are you emptying your locker?”
Swallowing, I reply, “Because I just left the chief of surgery’s office. I’m suspended for a year and I have to redo my internship when I come back.”
“What?” she screams.
“Belle, it’s fine. It’s probably better than I deserve.”
“So is Camden in surgery then?”
“No.” I roll my eyes. “Prichard threw a huge fit about the OR not being sterile anymore and postponed everything.”
“Bloody hell. What about The British Medical Journal article?”
I shrug. “I’m sure there’s nothing they want to talk to me about now. I threw it all away.”
“For a footballer.”
I smile. “For a footballer.”
“Look how you just said footballer with a sleazy smile! God, you’re completely smitten. What are you going to do about your suspension, though? You’ll fall so far behind. This is terrible.”
I shrug. “I’ll figure it out. I mean, I’m still young. I have plenty of time to catch up. I just can’t believe I have a job to come back to.” I flinch as I recall the chief’s face as he ripped into me about my immature and unprofessional behaviour, which he’s totally right about.
“So what are you doing
now?” Belle asks.
“The chief said I have to be out of the hospital immediately.”
“God, Indie, I’m so sorry.”
I purse my lips. I suppose I should be more devastated than I am. If I’m being honest, though, the only thing I want to do is talk to Camden. There’s still so much explaining I have to do. I want him to understand me. I want him to know why I behaved the way I did and pushed him away. One public display of affection doesn’t make up for all the heartache I caused.
I throw my bag over my shoulder. When I open the door to leave, I find Tanner looking up and down the hallway.
“Tanner?”
“Oh, Indie…Dr. Porter…Bugger, I don’t know what to call you.”
“Indie, please. Where’s Camden?”
He swallows once and replies, “Some prat tipped-off the paparazzi. It’s a freaking nightmare outside the hospital. It had to be someone from the OR. There’s a photo and everything.”
My heart drops. “No.”
“‘Fraid so, love. You snogged him globally now.”
Everything feels tight, claustrophobic, and royally screwed up. This is even worse than my suspension. This is the hospital’s reputation on the line. A photo being leaked from the OR is a huge Patient Data Protection Act violation.
As my mind reels with this new information, I hear Tanner say to Belle, “Nice to see you again, Dr. Ryan.”
“What did you do to your face?” she snaps.
He strokes his chin, looking defensive. “What do you mean? I trimmed it up.”
“But it’s not all long and nappy anymore.” Belle’s face looks angry.
His brows lift. “No, apparently the birds don’t like your face to look like their grandmother’s vagina.”
“Not all birds,” she grumbles.
“Tanner,” I bark, breaking up the weird energy crackling between these two. “Where is Camden?”
“He’s waiting for you in a black cab out back. We tried to get him to leave to get the mania away from here, but he refused to go without you. Right now Gareth is out front doing an impromptu press conference to distract them so you guys can get out of here.”
“Oh my God,” I groan as the insanity continues to build, but I don’t have time to freak out any longer.
Tanner grabs my bag out of my hands and clutches my arm. “We need to go.” He begins running me down the hallway toward the same area Camden left the hospital last time. Belle follows, her eyes wide and disbelieving at this whole ridiculous scene laid out before us.
When we reach the door, I squint through the pouring rain and eye the black cab parked along the sidewalk. Tanner attempts to tuck me under his arm, but the brake lights flip on and the car shoots into reverse right toward us. He opens the door and chucks my bag in, stepping back so I can slide in next. I look up at him in confusion when he doesn’t hop in behind me.
“I’ll catch a ride with Gareth and give you guys some…space.” He winks and slams the door shut, backing up to stand beside Belle under the overhang. The two glance at each other for a moment and then watch us pull away.
“Hey, Specs,” a familiar voice utters. I turn to see Camden sitting across from me in the cab. Facing me, his legs are stretched out wide in black jogging pants. His white T-shirt is splotched with rain on his shoulders. He looks perfect. “Tough day at work?”
I laugh in a way that verges on crying and launch myself onto him. I straddle him and hug his neck so hard, I think I might break him. When I finally feel as if he’s not going to slip out from under my hands, I loosen my grip and pull back. “I’m so sorry for all of this, Camden. It’s all my fault.”
His blue eyes widen. “Your fault? I’m the reason this is turning into a circus.”
“I know, but none of this would have happened if I wouldn’t have kissed you like that.” I cover my face with my hands. “I’m such a freak.”
He pulls my hands down and cups my face, stroking small lines on my cheekbone as his eyes pin me with a million questions. “Indie, just tell me what that kiss meant. I have to know if it means what I think it means because you give me so many mixed signals. Just be honest with me now. No more walls. No more space.”
“Okay,” I reply, wincing as I slide off of his lap. I tuck my legs up under me and turn so I can face him. He rests his hand on my shoulder and rubs it encouragingly. “I guess you could say I was trying to draw a foul.”
His face drops. All happiness and good humour instantly gone. “I think that’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”
He moves in and presses his lips to mine, kissing me desperately and snaking a hand up my scrub top. I want more, so much more, but I have to hold back so I can get this all out.
I push him away. “There’s more I need to say.”
He half smiles and pulls his hand out from under my shirt. “I’m listening. I promise.”
I pull his hand up between us and twine my fingers with his, staring at the vast disparity. His hand is large and tan and rough. Mine is small and pale and soft. So different, but together, so beautiful.
“I’ve never had any real relationships in my life, aside from Belle. No family meddling. No screaming, protective sisters. No ridiculous, hairy brothers. But since I’ve met you, I want that. I want sarcasm, I want drama. Hell, I want cheeky squeezes over coffee in the kitchen. I want to go to dinner with your dad, even if it means I get into a fight with him about you.”
He pulls me into his chest and sighs heavily. “I want that, too.”
“And I want this,” I say, squeezing around his waist. “I want affection. Lots and lots of affection. It might take me some time to get used to, and I might hate it at times when I’m feeling stressed. But I want you to keep helping me accept it.”
“I can do that,” he murmurs and drops a soft kiss on my head.
I pull back so I can look into his eyes for the next part. “Camden, I want you. I want more. I want lots more. I know my words are horribly delayed, but I’m falling for you, too.”
His eyes crinkle with a smile as he cups my face in his hands and brushes his lips against mine. The kiss is honest and pure, not overtly sexual like all of the others. It’s perfect.
When he pulls away, he says, “When you walked out on a surgery like that for me…Well, I don’t know if there will ever be a moment in my life that tops that. I bleed passion for you, Specs. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep my hands off of you.”
“Does that mean you want to score right now?” I ask and shoot him a lascivious smirk.
“Let’s shoot for a turkey.” He winks and tips me onto my back, moving over top of me on the cab seat. The feel of his mouth on me is heavenly as he kisses and licks my neck in the most delicious ways possible.
When he comes up to claim my lips, I stop him mid-action and whisper, “I have no idea what a turkey is.”
He laughs. Really laughs. And it’s my favourite Tequila Sunrise moment, ever.
After having the cab circle around Camden’s flat to ensure there are no paparazzi, we leap out of the car, both vibrating with a need to touch each other. It’s been only a couple of weeks since we were last intimate, but I already feel the build between my legs for what I know he can give me.
By the time we tumble into his lift, he’s already slipped his hand inside my knickers. “God, Cam!” I brace myself on the side of the lift wall. He’s standing behind me, and the reflection of his hand buried in the front of my scrubs as he nibbles my ear and does that thing to my clit again has me nearly tipping over the edge. “You have to stop. I’m going to fall.”
“I’ll catch you,” his warm breath chuckles in my ear. “God, I missed you, Specs. It’s been too long since I’ve touched you like this,” he says, continuing to defile my vagina with his expert fingers.
“I missed you, too,” I moan and tip my head back on his shoulder.
“I’ve never missed anyone like I missed you. When we were apart, I smelled lemons everywhere I went.”
/> I close my eyes and drink in his sweet words like the best cup of hot tea.
“I’m going to make you happy, Indie. I’m going to show you there’s more to me. I can do the boyfriend bit if that’s what you want. I’ll show you what we can be together.”
My hand reaches down and stills his movement. I turn my head and look into his eyes. The vulnerable gleam staring back at me has me turning in his arms. He removes his hands from my trousers and holds me around the waist. I can feel his strained erection, but I ignore it because he needs to hear what I’m about to say. “I just want you. I already know there’s more to you. I saw more the day you came rolling into my hospital.”
The corner of his mouth tilts up. “You’re really mine?” he asks, a sad flicker on his face as he awaits my answer.
I cup his face in my hands and press my forehead against his. “As long as you are mine. Now please, make love to me so I can say those words back to you this time.”
He inhales my words with a deep, swirling, simmering kiss that leaves me breathless. When the lift chimes open, he walks me backwards, never detaching his lips from mine. He manages to unlock the door and then pulls me up so my legs wrap around his waist as he carries me to his bedroom.
Everything feels different. Now that I’ve embraced this closeness that I feel for him, it’s as if my heart can finally accept what he’s been showing me all along. Those moments of vulnerability in the hospital; how tender he was with me when we had sex for the first time; how he looked at me when I walked barefoot on the Tower Park pitch.
Before I know it, I’m naked in his bed and he’s on top of me, dropping searing hot kisses on all of my naughty parts. When he comes back up, I wrap my legs around him and grip him between us, stroking the smooth skin of his head against me and staring deeply into his eyes. I have a moment of realisation over how beautiful our first time together really was. He was there for me, just like this. Tuned in to me, tender and caring. Loving, even though neither of us even knew it yet.
