by Anthology
The trip doesn’t take long. With the hospital in sight, I pull up near the ambulance bay and jump out. After carefully helping her out, we walk slowly inside.
CHAPTER 2
Liam
6 Months Later
It’s six in the morning. Six in the fucking morning and I’m wide-awake. It wouldn’t be bad if it wasn’t one of my days off. I was asleep; passed out around midnight, but then she entered my dreams. Amelia. I can’t get her out of my head. Every night I have a dream about her, which gets very sexual, and I wake up hard as a rock.
I haven’t seen her since the night she fell and fractured her arm. I took her to my hospital. She was evaluated and put in a cast. Fortunately, no surgery was needed. I’m sure she had to do some physical therapy after the cast came off, though.
I even followed up with the orthopedic group to see if she came back. Nope. Not once. She must have seen one of her doctors after the initial treatment. Even after I dropped her off at her townhouse, and had given her my card, with my personal cell number on it, I never heard from her. She was on strong painkillers. There was no way I was letting her drive. I offered to take her back to her car the next day, but she refused; said she’d asked a friend. I wanted to go back to her townhouse. I wanted to be there to help her. I wanted to be with her.
What the hell is wrong with me? How could I want to be with her so badly, after only spending such a short time with her? There’s nothing logical about it. The worst part is, I don’t want to be logical where she’s concerned. Somehow I’ve kept myself from stopping by her place to see how she’s doing. Stalker I am not.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I roll to my opposite side. A sliver of sunlight comes through a break in the curtains I neglected to close all the way. I roll to my back and watch the ceiling fan above spin round and round, like my thoughts about a woman I hardly know.
I kick the sheets off and let the cool breeze from the fan wash over my skin. It’s August and the temperatures have been in the upper nineties. Add high humidity to that and it’s a win-win if you enjoy feeling like you live on the face of the sun.
I’m off for the weekend. I honestly don’t know what to do with myself. I’m alone, and the only friends I have work at the hospital. Our head of orthopedics is the person I’m closest with; he also was the doctor who evaluated Amelia when I brought her in. He keeps busting my balls about how I got all crazy around her. I can’t help it if I only wanted the best for her. Okay, so I may have raised my voice at an intern and some others. I apologized the next day.
An hour later, I give up and get out of bed. It’s pointless to lie here any longer. I throw on a pair of shorts, socks, and sneakers. No shirt is needed. It’s way too hot out to wear one. I’m going for a run. I need to get outside and do it before the heat of the day turns into an inferno.
With my phone in an armband around my bicep, and my headphones in my ears, I close the front door and head out to try to clear my head of the woman who seems to constantly be plaguing it.
After running down my long, gravel driveway, I finally get to the street. My feet pound the pavement as sweat trickles down my face and chest. I get about three miles from home before I decide to turn around. It’s getting hotter by the minute, and I have a ways to go before I’m back home.
I pause by a stop sign at a four-way intersection. Only two of the streets have to stop. The others can pass through without a pause. Glancing both ways, I look down at my phone and change the song before picking up the pace again.
I’m four steps into the intersection when I see my life flash before my eyes. Tires screeching, horn blaring, I hear it all over the music I keep low. Looking to my right, I see how close I came to having a Ford emblem permanently branded into my side. Behind the wheel, I see straight, golden blonde hair and the woman I haven’t forgotten, no matter how many months go by.
When my eyes first meet hers, I listen as she throws curse word after curse word at me while her eyes give me a death glare. Then she pauses. She must recognize me. I don’t move. I’m caught like a deer in the headlights, only I’m a guy caught in front of a maroon Explorer.
A horn blares in the background. It’s enough to make me move and get out of the middle of the street. It wasn’t from Amelia, but the car behind her. Once I reach the safety of the grass, I stop and watch her drive out of sight.
I stand still for a few minutes like a sad puppy, waiting for her to come back. This is getting out of hand. I’m not a desperate guy. I start to jog again back to my house. Thoughts of her run rampant in my mind. Thoughts I need to let go. If she wanted to see me, she would have called, or emailed, or stopped her fucking SUV just now.
A half-mile up the road, a maroon Explorer passes me. I falter in my steps and almost do a header onto the pavement. She pulls off onto the shoulder. I keep moving, not sure what to do. Did she come back to see me? Has she been thinking of me, too? I need to get a grip.
The driver’s side door opens. Tan, slender legs appear first. Then she gets out. White shorts that hit mid-thigh, a loose lavender tank that’s rippling in the gentle breeze; I’m drinking all of her in. I come to a stop at the rear of her SUV and remove my earbuds.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she screams. That was not what I thought she was going to say. “I could have killed you! Don’t you look before crossing the street?” She points at me, and I notice how badly her hand is shaking. “Do you not understand how close I came to creaming you?”
I smile, because I know damn well how close she came. I also know there is no point in arguing with her. “I know, but you didn’t hit me. You stopped in time.”
“Barely!”
Taking two steps, I realize how close I am to her; as close as I’ve wanted to be in months. When she’s in front of me, I gain my confidence back. I’m not left lost in my own mind, wondering why she never called.
I glance down to watch the rise and fall of her chest. Her breasts move with each rapid breath. Breasts I can see the top of thanks to her low cut tank. I drop my smile and become serious. “I’m sorry. I did check before I crossed, but then I looked down again before continuing. It’s my fault.”
She crosses her arms, which only pushes those gorgeous mounds up higher, making my mouth go dry. Damn, it’s hot out here. “You should be sorry. Shit. I can’t stop shaking.”
I close the remaining distance until I’m only a breath away. She tips her head back to look up at me. Her plump lips part. I tentatively reach out to bring my forefinger up to her forehead and trace a line around her face down to her jaw. She sucks in a breath at the contact. I had to touch her. I had to know how her skin felt. Soft, silky smooth, just like I knew it would be.
“What are you doing?” she asks in a whisper.
“Why haven’t you called me?”
“I…I didn’t need a doctor. I have one.”
“That’s not why I wanted you to call me, although you could have, and I would have been there for you.”
“Then what did you want?”
“You,” I simply state.
Her eyes flutter closed for a brief second. “Dr. Kase, I…”
“Liam. Call me Liam.”
“Liam, I can’t. We can’t. We met on the ground outside of a grocery store. You helped me. That’s it. Nothing more.”
“You mean to tell me that you haven’t thought about me at all? Haven’t looked at my private number on the back of the card I gave you and wondered if you should call me?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Oh, but I believe it is. There’s something here, Amelia. Something strong between us.” I lean down until my lips are a millimeter from hers. “Something I don’t want to deny.”
“My friends call me Mille,” she whispers.
“I’ll call you Amelia. I have no intention of being your friend. I want to know you more intimately.”
I close the remaining distance and capture her lips with mine. She tastes of honey and it causes me t
o groan. My hands cup her cheeks as I angle my mouth to get more of her. My tongue teases her lips, begging to be allowed in. She grants me access and I search out her tongue, sucking it into my mouth. Her hands land on my chest, her nails dig into my sweat-slicked skin as I continue to explore her. Then, a second later, she pushes hard against me and we break apart.
“I have to go.” She spins to leave, but my hand catches her elbow. She doesn’t turn, only stops where she stands, and drops her head.
“Call me.” It’s not a question. It’s not a suggestion. It’s a firm statement. With that, I release her arm. She gets in her SUV, and pulls away, not looking back once.
Popping my earbuds back in, I continue my jog home, but this time it’s with a raging hard-on, which is only making it more than uncomfortable to run. I try to think of other things. Anything to get her off my mind. It doesn’t work. All I see is her hazel eyes and pink lips. I can still feel the silkiness of her skin and the way her nails dug into me. I can still taste honey on my tongue. Kissing her wasn’t the smartest move I’ve made, but I couldn’t resist her. She felt it, too. There’s no denying it. Now to wait and see if she finally calls.
* * *
A week goes by and I’m on edge, worse than before. I work, go home, sleep anywhere from three to five hours then start it all over again. This woman is driving me wild. How can she ignore me? How can she let what we have go?
I’m about to shut the light off next to my bed to try and get some sleep when my phone rings. Picking it up from my nightstand, I see a number I don’t recognize. No. Could this be her? Not many call me in the middle of the night unless it’s an emergency; even then they use my pager.
“Hello?” I don’t want to say her name and have her think I’ve been waiting for her call like some desperate man. Although, in reality, I am desperate. For her.
“Liam?”
“Amelia. It’s about time.” Yeah, I’m cocky and I don’t care. I know what I want.
“Did I wake you?” It’s eleven forty-five at night. I left work a little earlier today. Well, earlier if you consider eight at night early.
“No, not at all. I was just unwinding from a long day.” I also have nothing to do when I’m home. Sure, I have television, movies, all that kind of shit, but it doesn’t hold my interest. Especially not when all I can think about is a golden-haired beauty, who makes my cock hard every time she enters my mind. It’s the reason I have to stay busy at work. Can’t walk around turned-on all day. Hell no.
“I’ve been thinking about last week and, well, do you want to have dinner sometime?”
My lips curve into a smile. “Are you asking me out, Ms. Finch?”
“I am. That is, unless you don’t want to go out with me, which is fine, I just wanted to ask…”
“I’d love to go on a date with you, but I get to choose the location.”
I hear her let out a breath on the other end of the line. Is she nervous? “Deal. When are you free? I’m sure your schedule is packed.”
“How about tomorrow night? I have the weekend off.”
“That works, but I can’t stay out too late. I have work on Saturday.”
“What about Sunday?” I want her back with me Saturday night and then to spend all day Sunday in my bed.
“Sunday I’m off.”
“Good. Don’t make any plans.”
CHAPTER 3
Amelia
What the hell was I thinking, calling him and asking him to go out with me? He’s the Chief of Surgery at our biggest competitor for fuck’s sake. I truly have no business going on this date. None. I’m going to blame the glass of wine I had for the phone call last night. Yup. That’s the story I’m going with.
Once people found out how I got hurt and who treated me, word spread like wildfire throughout the nurses in pediatrics. I wasn’t even there and they were calling me, asking me a hundred questions. Now that I’ve fully healed and gone through physical therapy, I’m back doing everything I used to. And damn, they won’t leave it alone. They keep hounding me.
Sure, Liam is the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. And yes, he kisses like he was built for sin. God, the way his abs shone with sweat the last time I saw him. Tiny drops of perspiration went over every ridge achingly slow. I wanted to run my hands over him and touch every square inch.
Then he kissed me. Everything changed after that. Yes, I was curious about my savior that night, although truth be told, I’m sure I could have driven myself to the emergency room with one arm. As soon as we got to his hospital, and I was given strong painkillers, everything started going fuzzy. I only remember bits and pieces: him commanding everyone around to tend to me and make sure I wasn’t badly injured. His friend coming in to evaluate me.
After that night, I didn’t go back. I saw my own doctor. I wondered if I conjured up how kind and attentive Liam was to me in all of my pain and drug-induced haze. Maybe I didn’t see him clearly, and he wasn’t as sexy as I originally thought. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
Then I almost ran him over with my Explorer. Literally. I didn’t think I’d see him again. Dr. Kase. All of the nurses told me how he never goes out with anyone on his staff. How he’s the huge fish all of the women try to catch but none succeed. And I almost ran his ass over.
I groan loudly, while trying to figure out what to do with my hair for our date. I was going to attempt something fancy with it, but decide to leave it down. Nothing I do to it will make me happy with how I look.
I’m not anything special. I’m more the girl-next-door rather than the runway model. I might have the whole blonde hair, hazel eyes thing down, but big deal. I’m short, and on the thinner side, however not toned. Plus I’m curvy. Being thin doesn’t necessarily mean you lose your hips and breasts. I do exercise, sometimes. Okay, so I sit on my couch and watch television. I eat healthy, though. Plus I run my ass off during my shifts at work. It’s nonstop from the moment I clock in until I leave. Once I get home, I crash and crash hard. I still can’t believe I agreed to this date on a work night. Hopefully, I don’t pass out during the entrée.
My hair is done; my make-up is in place to help hide the bags under my eyes, and my sleeveless, knee-length black dress is hugging each one of my curves. Not every guy likes curves on a woman. I hope Liam does. If not, he can go. I am who I am. I don’t change for anyone.
It’s seven o’clock on the dot and he isn’t here yet. My black heels click along my tile entryway as I pace the length of it. I’m starting to sweat. This isn’t just dinner. Not with him. This will lead to sex. I know it. He wants to see me on Sunday, too, although he didn’t say anything about tomorrow night. Maybe he doesn’t want sex yet. Who the hell am I kidding? I want sex.
I’ve been in a year-long dry spell. A few dates here and there, but they never led to anything. I don’t like one-night stands. I’m thirty years old. I want, no need, a man who has his shit together. Someone who’s got a career in place. Who knows what they want out of life. Someone who isn’t put off by my attitude. I’m not a weak woman. Am I looking for a relationship? You bet your ass I am, but you have to start somewhere. I’m not about to jump into anything with a man I haven’t slept with. I need to know we’re compatible in all areas. Shit. I’m getting way ahead of myself where Liam is concerned.
The doorbell chimes. Quickly, I grab my purse off of the small table in my entryway. My hand grips the cold metal of the door handle, as I take one last deep breath before seeing the man on the other side.
When I open the door, Liam stands on the other side looking like he just fell out of a magazine: white button-down shirt with top three buttons undone, black jacket, which has been tailored to fit him with the way it’s perfectly buttoned at his waist. Matching black slacks, and perfectly polished shoes, make him look like the successful man he is. His hair is precisely combed back, and those eyes; the lightest color of blue. Ones I feel hypnotize me on the spot.
“Amelia,” he greets me, and leans in to kiss my
cheek. “You look beautiful.” I instantly blush. Great. I don’t need to be red as a tomato.
I spit out the first thing I can think of. “You look very nice.” Very nice? He looks like a dream come true. You know, the porn kind. He’s fucking gorgeous and I say very nice. I’m sure I’ll replay that little gem over and over in my head later.
Stepping through the door, I pull it shut behind me, then reach into my purse for the key to lock it. Liam offers me his arm, which I graciously accept, and escorts me to his black Mercedes. I vaguely remember it from the night I fell. All I remember is I was warm.
This thing is like a mini tank on wheels. It’s all business and sharp edges on the outside, while the inside is soft, supple leather, like Liam. I saw both sides of him the night we first met, and last week I saw the softer, yet still demanding side of him.
He drives us to an upscale restaurant in the heart of the city. Dinner is divine. The food practically melts in my mouth. After one glass of wine, I cut myself off and ask for water. I don’t need to get tipsy. That would only loosen up every part of me. I’m not sure I want to go there with him tonight, especially since I have work in the morning. Tomorrow night? Yeah, that’s a different story. If he wants to see me tomorrow. He said Sunday.
After dinner and dessert, he drives me back to my townhouse. There wasn’t one mention of us doing anything further tonight. I’m a little disappointed. I need a good night’s sleep so I can do my job well tomorrow.
At my front door, he places the softest of all kisses on my lips. It takes everything in me not to throw myself at him and beg for more. I feel like the entire date was foreplay; from the way he ate his food, to the way he sipped his coffee. I need to take a step back from him and bid him goodnight. I’m all over the damn place.
“Thank you for dinner. The food was amazing.”
He smiles. “I’m glad you liked it.” I smile in return and stand awkwardly, not sure what to say next. Luckily, I don’t need to worry about it. Liam speaks up before I have to. “I want to see you again tomorrow night.”
