Untouchable (Unexpected Love Book 1)

by Isabel Love

  Translation: untouchable.

  Fuck.

  I want to touch her again.

  Logan: Where are you?

  Me: I just pulled into the parking lot. Be there in 2 minutes.

  I pull my bike up to the bike rack and lock it up. Logan, Charlie, and I meet up for happy hour on Friday nights at O’Malley’s, a local sports bar. It isn’t fancy, but we know the owner and the food is great.

  “Hey there, Max. Your boyfriends are in the booth at the back.” Shirley, the regular waitress, points to the back of the room.

  “Thanks, Shirley.” I head back to our usual table and join the guys. “What’s up, boyfriends?”

  “Max! We need you to settle something.” Charlie and Logan are always betting on something, and I’m known for my good memory.

  “At your service.”

  “In eighth grade, which teacher caught Charlie jacking off in the bathroom? Was it Mr. Senta or Mrs. Bernardo?” Logan asks me.

  I look to Charlie. “I can’t believe you don’t remember this—how is it not ingrained in your brain?”

  “Post-traumatic stress syndrome. It was so mortifying my brain blocked it out.” Charlie shudders.

  “It was the young, good-looking one, Miss Allison,” I report. “You were gone from class for too long and she couldn’t find Mr. Senta to check the boys’ bathroom, so she had to go inside to make sure you were okay.”

  “I knew it!” Charlie slaps his hand down on the table. “She totally had the hots for me.”

  “You knew shit, and it was you that had the hots for her,” Logan corrects him. “You owe me a beer.”

  “How do I owe you a beer? You thought it was Mr. Senta or Mrs. Bernardo,” Charlie says.

  “I bet that you couldn’t remember who it was and you couldn’t!”

  I laugh at their antics.

  “Fine, fine.” Charlie motions at the bartender to bring a pitcher of beer for the table.

  “So Max, how’s the new job?” Logan asks after we get more beer and Shirley takes our order.

  “It’s going okay. You know how the first couple weeks are at a new job. Orientation kind of sucks with all the mind-numbing information they give, but I did start on my floor this week. You guys will never guess who works with me.” I still can’t believe she works with me.

  “Miss Allison?” Charlie guesses.

  “I work in the emergency room, Charlie—how would our eighth-grade teacher work there?” I roll my eyes.

  He shrugs. “We just talked about her. It was fresh in my mind. Besides, it is possible to change jobs.”

  “Just spit it out, dude. Who works with you?” Logan grabs some peanuts from the pail in the middle of the table and crushes them with his fist to get to the good stuff inside.

  “You know the girl I danced with when we went out to celebrate my new job?”

  “The one that ran away when you told her you were a male nurse?” Logan says, eyes twinkling with mischief.

  I growl. “Fucker! She did not run away from me because of that!”

  “She did pull a disappearing act on you, though.” That much is true.

  “So the hottie from the club works with you?” Charlie clarifies.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s crazy. What a small world,” Logan says.

  “Did you bang her yet?” Charlie asks, ever the gentleman.

  “Well, no,” I admit.

  “Let me guess, she ran away from you again?” Logan is scarily on point.

  I sigh. “She has been dodging me ever since she discovered I work there.”

  “Tough break.” Charlie sips his beer and shrugs. “Well, you win some you lose some.”

  “What does she do there? Is she a nurse, too?” Logan asks.

  “She’s a doctor, actually.” They both gape at me.

  “Really?” Charlie asks. “She did not dance like a doctor.”

  “She did not look like a doctor,” Logan agrees.

  “Come on, guys. What does a doctor look like or dance like?” I ask, although I wouldn’t have guessed that profession either. “She’s apparently super smart.”

  “Smart enough to run away from your ass.” Charlie snickers.

  “Why do I even hang out with you guys?” I wonder.

  “We know too much about your past. If you weren’t around, we’d tell everyone all your secrets,” Charlie states seriously as I throw a peanut at him.

  “Who would have thought you’d have the hots for a doctor you work with?” Logan muses. “Be careful, though,” he warns. “Don’t shit where you eat.”

  “Such wise words,” Charlie scoffs. “He can totally bang the doctor. It’s not shitting where he eats.” Charlie is, of course, going to encourage banging whenever possible. He has banged his way through life. The only relationship he ever had was with his high school sweetheart. Ever since that ended, he’s sworn off relationships and enjoys a variety of women.

  “I don’t know. It’s all fun and games when things are going well, but she’s already dodging him after a little bumping and grinding on the dance floor. Imagine how awkward things would be if you guys hooked up and then it didn’t work out.” Logan makes a good point, though he doesn’t know the extent of what happened on the dance floor. I know why she’s embarrassed, but I still wish she would talk to me.

  “I just think they should play doctor, only she should be your patient and you should conduct a thorough physical exam.” Charlie wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and I throw another peanut at him as Logan laughs.

  Shirley brings out our burgers and fries and the conversation moves on to other things. We leave a couple hours later, bellies full of greasy food.

  “You need a ride?” Logan asks me.

  “Nah, I’m good. It’s a nice night for a bike ride. See you later.” I wave to them and unlock my bike. As I pedal home, my mind wanders back to Dr. Morgan, as it so often does these days. I need to just leave her alone as she obviously doesn’t want anything to do with me.

  But that night…that orgasm…her body moving against my body… She was so damn sexy, and I’m having a hard time forgetting. I want her.

  Aaaand now I’m hard while riding a bicycle. Awesome.

  You look flushed.

  Monica

  “Dammit!” I curse as I drop the suture kit. My current patient is a six-year-old boy needing stitches, and I am freaking out.

  Not because I don’t know how to do stitches—I can stitch in my sleep.

  I am freaking out because the nurse assisting me with this patient is Max. Max, who I have been avoiding for the last two weeks. Max, who is so good-looking it hurts. Max, who kissed me so thoroughly my lips are still tingling at the memory. Max, who is so sexy my panties get wet just from being around him, who fingered me to orgasm while we were in the middle of a club, and who I can’t be attracted to because he works with me.

  That Max.

  And, to top it all off, he’s genuinely nice. He didn’t spill the beans to Kevin about how we met, not to mention, he hasn’t approached me to ask me why I haven’t acknowledged him. Thank goodness for that, because I don’t even know how to explain myself.

  You see, Max, I’m a total loner and I don’t have a social life because all I do is work. So, I decided to drive two towns over to make sure I didn’t run into anyone I know and go to a club, by myself, like some loser, because respectable doctors don’t go to clubs and shake their ass.

  I was so stressed out and horny, I let you touch me on the dance floor and came on your fingers. Then, I refused to tell you my name because that’s just how classy I am. What’s more, now that I see you all the time, I just want to take you into the nearest closet and lick the tattoos that peek at me all the time. I want your hands on me again, and I want my hands on you.

  He’s also good with the patients. Right now, he’s in the room with the little boy and his mom, cracking jokes and keeping them calm while I get the supplies for the stitches. Usually, the nurse gets the supplie
s, but I volunteered because I needed a minute to get my shit together.

  I can do this. I’m a doctor for crying out loud. I can be near him and not freak out. I can.

  Deep breath, Monica. You got this, I chant to myself. Squaring my shoulders, I grab my supplies. When I enter the room, I find Max and Robbie laughing. Wow, he has a really nice laugh.

  Bright blue eyes meet mine. “You all set, Dr. Morgan?”

  “Yup.” I’m so articulate I can’t stand it. I look down at the boy. “Ok, Robbie, let’s fix you up, buddy. It shouldn’t take more than six stitches. Do you have any questions?”

  “Am I going to have a scar?” he asks, chin starting to quiver.

  “You may have a scar,” I tell him, nodding. I never lie to my patients when I can help it.

  “Don’t worry, buddy. Scars are cool,” Max soothes him as he puts gloves on and sets up all the supplies for me. “I have one in my eyebrow, too. Can you see where it is?” He points to his right eyebrow, and my eyes track his finger to find a faint horizontal line cutting through his right eyebrow. Somehow, it makes him look all the more appealing, and I have the urge to touch it. He looks up and catches me staring, so I quickly avert my gaze and put my gloves on.

  “How did you get your scar?” Robbie asks him.

  “That’s the other cool thing about scars—you get to make up fascinating stories about how you got them.” Max nods to me, signaling for me to get started.

  “Really?”

  “I got my scar fighting dragons,” he tells the boy seriously.

  “No way.”

  They banter back and forth, making up cool scar stories while I numb the area and stitch up the cut. It just takes a few minutes and I manage to get it all done while Max diverts his attention.

  “You’re all set, Robbie. Thanks for coming in to see us.” I hand him one of the stuffed animals we have for our pediatric patients.

  “That didn’t hurt at all! Thanks, Dr. Morgan,” he chirps and squeezes the crocodile.

  “You’re welcome. Max will go over your follow-up instructions, okay?” I shake the mom’s hand and give her my card. “Please call if you have any concerns.”

  I slip out of the room and try to distance myself from those intense blue eyes. Kevin blocks my escape, though, coming out of nowhere and asking, “How did Max do?”

  “Really great. He’s awesome with kids.”

  “He is, isn’t he? What about with the procedure—did everything go okay there?”

  I nod. “Yes. He knew exactly what to do for me. Looks like his training is going well.”

  “It is. He’s been the easiest person to orient,” Kevin agrees.

  “Who’s easy?” Max asks, joining our conversation. I startle at the sound of his voice and nearly jump out of my skin, knocking over some charts in the process. Dammit! I bend over to pick them up at the same time Max does and our heads collide with a loud smack.

  “Ooof,” Max grunts and grabs his head.

  “Sorry!” I grab my head, too. Wow, that hurt.

  “You guys need to stop making a habit of mauling each other,” Kevin says, chuckling. I cough, then end up choking on nothing. Could I be more awkward? Ugh.

  Max straightens and drops his hand. “You okay?” he asks. He’s looking me over and his quick assessment makes me feel hot.

  “I’m fine, what about you?” I ask him as I bend to pick up the charts from the floor. He squats down to help me, slowly this time.

  “I’m fine,” he tells me. Once we gather everything up, I stand too fast and get dizzy. Max reaches out to steady me. “Easy there. Maybe you should sit down,” he says, looking concerned.

  “Why don’t both of you sit down in room five?” Kevin points to the nearest exam room. “I’ll go get two ice packs. Be right back.”

  Max leads me into room five and I sit on the side of the exam bed. He checks my forehead and looks into my eyes. Then he sits across from me in the chair, watching me intently. This is the first time we’ve been alone together since…well, since ever. When we met, we were surrounded by people. My pulse kicks up at our close proximity, his presence sucking all the oxygen out of the room. “You don’t have to be nervous around me, you know,” he says quietly.

  “You don’t make me… I’m…I’m not nervous,” I stutter. I’m totally nervous.

  “Come on, you’re jumpy anytime I’m around. My first day here, you practically ran away from me.” His gaze is steady on mine, daring me to deny it.

  I sigh. “I kind of did, didn’t I?”

  He nods and continues, “You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone how we met.”

  “Thank you.” I blow out a breath.

  He waits a beat then adds, “And you don’t have to worry about me trying to pick up where we left off. Your message has been received loud and clear.”

  “My message?” I squeak. What message am I sending him?

  “Yes. It’s pretty obvious you’re not interested in me. So, let’s just start fresh, okay? Can we just…can we try to be friends at work? This awkwardness is killing me.” I can’t help but stare at his lips as he talks, the lips that were all over mine that first night. And he thinks I’m not interested in him.

  “You…want to be friends?” I ask him, doubtful.

  He glances down at my lips and they start to tingle. “Well, I must admit I was hoping you would be happy to see me again.” He looks back up to my eyes and smiles wistfully. “I thought we had great chemistry.” Understatement of the year.

  “We did,” I admit. I can’t seem to muster more than a few words at a time.

  “But you weren’t happy to see me again.” His smile fades. “We’re both adults, though. It’s not like we had a relationship or anything. We should be able to move past how we met.” How we met. He looks back down to my lips and swallows. I love the way his Adam’s apple bobs, his neck so strong and sexy. He licks his lips, and it makes me lick my lips, too.

  Is it hot in here?

  I snap out of my trance. He’s right, and I owe him an apology. I take a deep breath and meet his eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve reacted poorly to discovering you work here,” I say sincerely. He nods in acceptance. “It’s just…I’ve worked so hard to earn the respect of my co-workers, and I never go out like that. Let alone do…what we did.” I wave between us, unable to say the words aloud.

  “There is nothing wrong with you going out to a club,” he insists, “and doing…what we did.” He repeats my words, staring at my mouth again. “You were amazing.”

  I blush and look down. “Well, I didn’t expect to see you again, and when I did, I thought for sure you would mention Club Bailar. I don’t want my colleagues to think I’m some kind of harlot, so thank you for not saying anything.”

  “You’re not a harlot,” he states fervently. “I didn’t expect things to escalate the way they did. I’m sorry if you regret that night, but I don’t want you to be ashamed. That was the hottest thing that has ever happened to me.” Remembering how things escalated makes my nipples hard and butterflies swarm my stomach. His gaze flicks down to my chest, noticing my body’s reaction, and heat flares in his eyes. Shit. I pull my lab coat over my chest to cover myself up and clear my throat. My face feels like it’s on fire. He blinks, then lust-filled eyes meet mine. His gaze is powerful, and I get a little lost in those blue eyes. The atmosphere in the room changes and I feel the chemistry spark between us. He starts to lean closer to me and my body wants to sway closer to him.

  Footsteps sound in the hall and Kevin appears with two cold packs. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Here you go, you guys,” he says, handing one to me and the other to Max. “Dr. Morgan, are you okay? You look flushed.”

  “I’m fine, Kevin.” Breathe, Monica. Just breathe. I take the cold pack and put it on the back of my neck instead of my forehead, hoping that will cool me down.

  Kevin doesn’t look convinced. “It’s pretty quiet right now, why don’t you and Max take a break
? I’ll let you know when we get a patient.” He leaves and I meet Max’s eyes again.

  “Want to go get a cup of coffee?” he asks, standing up in front of me.

  “Coffee?”

  “Or cold water,” he suggests, eyeing the cold pack on my neck. “Let’s give this fresh start a whirl, what do you say?”

  “Um…okay.”

  He reaches out his hand to offer a handshake. “Hi, I’m Max Spencer, male nurse.” He gives me a wide grin.

  I laugh and shake his hand. “Hi there. I’m Monica Morgan, female doctor. Nice to meet you.”

  “Monica,” he repeats, his mouth testing out my name. I like the sound of my name on his lips.

  Max

  I think I have misjudged everything. From the way she acted so jumpy and nervous around me, I thought she wasn’t interested in me at all, but she was just afraid of me making her out to be a slut at work. Understandable. I would never do that, but she doesn’t know me.

  What’s more, I think she is interested in me. At the very minimum, she’s still attracted to me. The way she was looking at me just moments ago with dilated pupils, flushed cheeks, hardened nipples, and pulse thrumming in her throat was proof of that. If Kevin hadn’t walked in with those ice packs when he did, I may have mauled her on that exam table despite my recent promise not to.

  What did I just ask her?

  Coffee.

  Fresh start.

  Friendship.

  Right. I can do this.

  We walk side by side to the staff cafeteria. After paying for two bottles of water, we sit at a table by the window.

  “So.” I smile over at her.

  “So.” She smiles back and it transforms her face, making her look younger.

  “You’re a doctor,” I observe.

  “You’re a nurse,” she states. Everyone always asks me why I wanted to be a nurse instead of a doctor; I know she’s curious, but she doesn’t ask me.

  “How long have you worked here?”

  “Let’s see, I went to the medical school associated with the hospital, so I did my clinical rotations here, though not all of them were in the ER. Then I stayed on for my residency. When it was time to do my fellowship, I was lucky enough to snag an opening in the ER, and that fellowship turned into a staff position. I’m one of the rare doctors that have stayed at the same hospital since I was a baby doctor,” she tells me.