by Maggie Cole
He steps back, opens the door, and motions for me to get in.
Is this guy for real?
I get into the car, and he follows. The dividing window is closed.
“How do you take your coffee?” He opens a brown paper bag. I notice two cups in the holder.
“Cream, two sugars, not the fake crap.”
He mixes them into my cup, puts the lid back on, then adds the stopper to it. In one swift move, he pulls me onto his lap.
“You’re crazy,” I tell him.
“Crazy about you.”
My face flushes.
“Do you have a busy day?” he asks.
“Probably. I don’t know the full schedule until I get in.”
He nods.
“Did you get any sleep?” The back of my fingers graze his cheek.
He chuckles softly. “Nope.”
“You stayed up all night to surprise me?”
A cocky grin of pride floods his face. “Yep.”
I lean in and kiss him. He wraps his arms around me, as I part his lips with mine, slipping my tongue next to his. Flutters erupt in every cell of my body, and he pulls me in tighter against him.
“Thank you,” I murmur against his lips. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
I lace my hands behind his head and melt into him, knowing in my heart he is special, different from all the other men who have ever been in my life, and that I want to see more of him.
We make out the entire way to my work. When the car stops, I don’t notice until the driver opens the door.
I pull back in surprise.
Xander looks at the driver. “Give us a minute, please.”
The driver nods and closes the door.
Xander pushes my hair back from my face. “I’ll text you his number. Text him ten minutes before you’re ready to leave, and he will drive you home.”
“I can get an Uber or cab,” I tell him quickly.
“No way. The driver will take you home. It’s already arranged.”
“All right. Thank you.”
He kisses me again.
I sigh. “I have to go or I’ll be late.”
He pecks me on the lips. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
I take the coffee from the cup holder. “Okay. Thanks for this and the ride.”
He winks at me. “Anytime.”
When I turn to go, he spins me back around and kisses me so passionately, my knees would buckle if I wasn’t seated.
“Don’t forget me.”
“I won’t.”
He pecks me one last time and I go into work. Inside the locker room, I run into Damon, my ex, who scowls at me. I ignore him and go about my business but can’t help feeling his scrutiny.
As quick as I can, I get ready, grab my coffee, and read the schedule. I leave the locker room and Damon’s nasty glares then head off to my first surgery.
I spend the day in several operations, trying to concentrate and not think about Xander, but it’s tough. He’s in my mind, and I can’t get him out.
When I’m done with my shift, I go to my locker and pull out my phone. He has texted me the driver’s number, and I notify the driver what time to pick me up.
The car is sitting at the curb when I step outside. The driver opens the door and I get in. On the seat is a massive bouquet of pink roses and a note.
I open the envelope.
Charlotte,
Don’t forget me.
XOXO,
Xander
PS - I miss you already.
Forget about him? As if that would ever be possible.
I glance at the time on my phone and know he’s on his plane, already in the air. I send him a text. “Don’t forget me. And I miss you, too.”
8
Xander
Eight Months Earlier
My flight just landed in Columbus, Ohio. I remove my suitcase from the overhead bin and make my way off the plane and through the airport.
The air is warmer than it usually is in May, and the cab driver has all the windows rolled down.
“Hyatt Regency, please,” I tell him.
“You in town for the medical convention?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“You’re arriving late. Most of the doctors came in yesterday.”
“I was in surgery all day yesterday.”
Plus, I had to rearrange my entire schedule over the next two days.
We continue to chat until we get to the hotel. I quickly check in, take a quick shower then open the pamphlet the registration lady gave me regarding the conference.
I scan through it and find the breakout session I want to attend.
If I go now, I’ll catch the last fifteen minutes.
I throw on the lanyard with the conference badge I also received at check-in and quickly maneuver through the hotel and conference room.
When I enter the session, Charlotte is at the front of the room, using the laser to point out different pus pockets that can occur from orthopedic surgery.
I slide into a seat in the back of the room.
The conference is for doctors going through their residency. I’m way beyond that and would never be at it.
But she is here.
Yesterday, Charlotte texted me. “Guess who gets to spend three days in Columbus for two presentations.”
“How did that happen?”
“The regional is sick, and they said I know it best.”
“Who is it for?”
“Residents.”
I replied, “When do you leave?”
“My flight leaves at noon.”
“Staying until Wednesday?”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t been to Columbus, but I heard it’s fun,” I texted, as I went over my schedule for the next few days in my head.
“I’m sure it’s great. Guess I’ll have lots of time to sightsee.”
All I’ve been dying to do over the last month is see her again. So I figured out how to get out of work on Tuesday and Wednesday, paid the thousand dollar conference fee, and booked the first flight out and hotel room.
We’ve spent the last month texting, emailing, calling, and seeing each other on FaceTime, but our schedules have been crazy, and I miss her. And she also paid three grand for me in a charity auction over FaceTime.
What girl does something that awesome?
I only saw Charlotte once. Well, twice if you count a fifteen-minute car ride to drop her off at work. Seeing her in the flesh has my pants in a stir. She’s the most gorgeous woman on earth, I thought when I met her, and she’s living up to that theory today. Her long, blonde hair she’s wearing straight. The clearest blue eyes I’ve ever seen are shining bright, and her pink lips are just as inviting as ever. The blue pencil skirt hugs her hips just the right way, showing off her killer calves, and the button up, form-fitting yellow top reminds me of sunshine.
That’s what she is. Sunshine.
And I knew she was smart, but watching her present reiterates how intelligent she really is. She’s leaps ahead of any medical device rep that I’ve had assist me in surgery.
At the end of her presentation, she asks if there are questions. I let the residents ask, and when there seems to be no more, I sit up straighter in my chair and hold my hand up.
She points in my direction. “Yes.”
I stand up. “What do you rate the pus factor in slide 28?”
Surprise passes her face. Then a big grin takes over. A faint blush creeps up her neck. “From my experience, I’d give it an eight point three.”
My eyes don’t leave hers. “Hmm. You’ve seen worse than that?”
“A few stand out in my mind.”
“What about the smell factor?”
Her smile grows wider. “Too hard to tell by pictures. You never know until you’re fully in there, but judging by the color, I’m assuming it isn’t as bad as it appears.”
> The administrator rings a bell. “Sorry to cut you off, doctor, but it’s time for the general session,” a woman’s voice says. I don’t know what she looks like, as I’m still staring at Charlotte.
The doctors trail out of the room, and I stay in my spot as a few residents form a line to ask Charlotte questions. When it’s just us, I close the door, lock it, and head to the front of the room.
Charlotte meets me halfway. “I can’t believe... What are you doing here?”
I lace both my hands in her hair and tilt her head back. Dipping down, I part her lips with my tongue and roll it around her delicious mouth.
Her fingers grip my hair, and she pulls me closer, deepening our kiss.
I put my palm on her back. “Tell me you still feel our heat.”
“Smoldering,” she breathes.
“I missed you.”
“What are you doing here?” she repeats.
I continuing kissing her. “I thought three grand deserved two dates.”
“Two, huh?”
“Mm-hmm. One in New York and one in Columbus.”
“Columbus, huh?”
“Yep. We’ll figure New York out,” I promise.
Someone bangs on the door, and we pull back “I guess I shouldn’t lock people out.” I wink at her and open the door.
A woman is standing in the hall. “Oh, sorry, Dr.”—she glances at my badge—“Dr. Kane. I didn’t mean to interrupt?”
“No problem, the door must have accidentally locked. I was just trying to get more information from Ms. DeVoe.”
Charlotte joins me with her laptop bag on her shoulder and her purse.
“Thank you again for presenting at the last minute. Do you need anything else in the room for tomorrow?” the woman whose name badge says Kayla asks.
Charlotte tilts her head, considering. “Everything was perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Sure. But we hope you’ll join us at the happy hour for presenters tonight at six in the main bar of the Hyatt.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
We say our goodbyes, and when we get to the escalator, I grab Charlotte’s laptop bag.
“What are you doing?”
“Carrying your bag.”
She laughs. “Aren’t you chivalrous.”
“You’re done for the day, right?” I ask her.
“Yep. Two o’clock tomorrow is my next commitment.”
“So, I get you till then?”
“If you want me till then, yes.”
I slide my arm around her waist. “Is that really a question?”
“So where are we going?” she asks.
“To my room so I can show you how much I’ve missed you.” I cockily lick my lips.
Her sexy blush creeps across her face again. “Have you missed me a little or a lot?”
I turn to her. “I’ve missed you more than I ever thought possible. I can’t wait to get to Chicago so I can see more of you.”
She rests her head on my shoulder. “Feeling is mutual.”
I lean down and brush my lips across hers. “I’m taking you out for a proper date tonight, but you get your first serving of dessert before.”
She giggles. “So, I’ll be having lots of desserts today?”
I wink at her. “You will if I have anything to do with it.”
We spend the next two days having multiple orgasms, exploring Columbus, and learning more about each other and all the things we have in common. Everything is easy and fun with Charlotte. She’s real, honest, and the sweetest girl I’ve ever met. I’m more infatuated with her than before I left New York. When we have to part ways, the only thing I can think about is how to see her again soon.
9
Charlotte
Present Day
It’s three in the morning, and my alarm rings. I have had little sleep, but I’m not overly tired.
Xander’s text and phone call surprised me. When his name popped up on the screen, I froze and quickly debated about texting him back. Then he FaceTimed me.
My heart broke again, seeing tears in his eyes as he struggles with his amnesia. He’s having a hard time, which is understandable, but a big part of his frustration is now me. He told me he read our messages...messages I’ve spent too many hours to count rereading. He claims he feels something for me.
I curse myself for the resurgence of hope. Pull it together, Charlotte. He doesn’t remember you, and he’s still in love with Billie.
I get ready and head for the hospital. Before I can even contemplate what I’m doing, I text Xander.
“I don’t know what hotel you’re at, but do you want me to pick you up?”
“I’m at the Claybourne. Is it on the way?”
“Yes.”
“Sure. That would be awesome. Thanks.”
What am I doing?
As much as I reprimand myself for putting myself in the position to be hurt further, I can’t help but feel excited.
I hope it isn’t weird being in a car so close to him.
What am I doing?
I pull up to the doors of the hotel, and Xander is already waiting outside with a black wool cap on and holding two cups of coffee. I hadn’t seen him in a hat before, and he looks straight out of a magazine ad.
As he opens the door and gets in, his sexy scent flares in my nostrils. He sets the coffee in my cup holders, leans over, and kisses me on the cheek. “Good morning.”
I freeze.
He freezes. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t think before I did that.”
“It’s okay. There are worse things you could do to me.”
“I realize I lost my memory, but let’s hope I don’t go down that path.”
I laugh and pull the car out.
“Thanks for picking me up.”
“Sure. You look hot in that hat.” Shit! My face flushes.
“Thanks. I’ll have to wear it more often.”
I try to concentrate on the road.
“I took a chance and listened to my gut. It told me you take your coffee with cream and two sugars, but real sugar, not that fake crap.”
“Xander! You remembered! That’s great!”
He throws his arm in the air for a victory pump. “There’s hope for me yet.”
“There’s always hope. I learned that as a kid.” I focus on the road.
“You mean because of the orphanage?” Xander says quietly.
I jerk my head at him. “You remember that?”
“No. I read it in our text messages.”
My heart falls in disappointment. “Thanks for the coffee,” I say quickly, not wanting to talk anymore about my childhood.
Xander blessedly changes the subject. “So, how often do you get to pick the music in the OR?”
I glance over at him. “Not a fan of Club Hip Hop Radio?”
He laughs. “I am. I was hoping we could listen to it again today, or something else besides Dr. Croy’s fifties channel. The last week, before you were back, I thought I would go crazy.”
Rolling my eyes, I tell him, “One week is nothing. I had to endure two years before I won a bet, and now he has to play rock, paper, scissors with me.”
Xander groans. “I would transfer units if I had to endure two years.”
“It was torture for sure.”
“So, what was the bet?”
“That green pus instead of yellow would come out of the patient’s knee.”
Xander laughs. “That’s awesome.”
“Yep, it was,” I agree. “He also had to buy me blueberry muffins from the lobby every day for a month.”
“Blueberry muffins?”
“Yep. They make these mini ones, and they’re beyond delicious.”
“Well, I hope you win rock, paper, scissors today.”
“I hope so, too.”
“Did you get any sleep?” Xander asks.
“A little. You?”
“Same.”
“Did you dream about me?” I tease, then realize what I said. �
��Shit. I’m sorry.” Heat blazes across my face.
“As a matter of fact, I did.”
My face flushes further.
“At least you weren’t faceless this time.”
“Faceless?”
“You’ve been faceless all these months.”
“Then how do you know it was me?”
Xander blurts out, “Because I could smell, feel, taste, hear, and see all of you except your face.”
“You could taste me? Jeez, what were you doing to me,” I say, once again not thinking, then put my hand on my face in embarrassment. “Shit. I don’t know what’s wrong with my mouth today. Just ignore me.”
Xander laughs. “I think we both have that problem. Why don’t we stop saying we are sorry and not worry about it?”
I glance over at him. “Okay. No more sorry.”
“And I’m doing everything possible to you. That’s how I taste you,” he states.
My lower body pulses at the thought.
“In last night’s dream, we were in a shower. Am I creating scenarios in my head, or did that happen?”
My face is officially on fire. I glance over at Xander, and he has a cocky grin on his face. “It happened,” I say and focus back at the road.
“You’re pretty adorable when you blush,” Xander says.
My heart is racing, and my stomach flutters. Simmer down, Charlotte. The guy is just having flashbacks.
Life is so not fair.
“Since you didn’t taste me yesterday in surgery, how did you know it was me?” I tease him but also want to know.
“I smelled you when you stood by me. Then you pulled your hair cap off and said my name. You only say my name in my dreams.”
Eyes on the road, Charlotte.
I’m sitting in a car, next to the man I want to be with but can’t, while he tells me he’s having dreams of us having sex. This is so fucked-up.
“So you dated Damon?” Xander asks in another change of subject but not one I welcome.
“Yeah. I broke up with him the week before I met you.”
Xander shifts in his seat.
“What?” I glance over at him.
He shrugs and raises an eyebrow.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t see you with a guy like that.”
“A guy like that?”
