Page 19 of This Time Around

“If you don’t want to have this conversation right now, then leave, Cash.”

“Why are you being such a bitch to me?” he questions in a hushed tone.

“You’re kidding, right? I don’t know how you convince anyone to fall for your bullshit.” I storm off not waiting for his response.

The double doors leading to the ER check in feel like a much needed barrier between me and the asshat on the other side.

“Are you here to check in or to visit?” the older blonde behind the counter asks. Her eyes searching the room behind me for the obvious source of my frustration.

“I’m here to see Dr. Jennings,” I announce sweetly. “He was not expecting me, so if he’s busy, I can leave a note.”

“Can I have your name?” she asks.

“Blake McKenzie”

“Thank you, Miss McKenzie, and what is the purpose of your visit?” she asks.

A peace offering because he walked in on me pleasuring myself in the fucking woods.

“I was just catching up with someone nearby and wanted to bring him this,” I explain, holding up the coffee and muffin.

“Let me see if he is available.” She picks up the phone and I hear a chime come over the speakers.

Turning red, I place my hand on the counter as she pages him over the intercom system.

“No, no, no. It’s ok, I can just leave this here. I didn’t realize-” She doesn’t hear me, as the phone on her desk rings and she answers.

“Hi Dr. Jennings, there is a Miss McKenzie here to see you.” There is a long pause, and then she continues, “Ok, I will let her know.”

“He is finishing up with a patient, but said he will meet you in the cafeteria in about 15 minutes. He insisted you wait,” she informs me with a smile.

For 15 minutes I pace the length of the cafeteria seating area, biting at the skin around my nails, a nervous habit I inherited from my mother. It’s an ugly habit so I consciously replace it with little bites of the muffin I got Luke. He won't care, right? When there’s no sign of Luke after 20 minutes of pacing back and forth, I decide to send him a text and head home, tail tucked between my legs.

Me: Wanted to bring you a coffee to apologize for the awkward orgasm encounter. You must have gotten busy. Let’s catch up soon.

His response immediately comes through.

Luke: Sit the fuck down and stop pacing the room. You’re going to scare the other people.

I look and see him at the cashier with two coffees in hand.

Me: Doubt I’m the first one to pace these floors.

As Luke approaches me, his smile spreads even farther across his face, reaching the corner of his eyes, making them sparkle. I wish there was a version of our reality where I could see him smile every damn day. His smile is the most genuine in the world. It lights up his entire face. It’s effortless and unguarded, a stark contrast to mine lately. His lips curl, creating soft lines, creating a soft crinkle at the corner of his eyes, adding a layer of sincerity. A smile that makes me feel seen, understood, and heats me from the inside.

“I thought you might want a hot cup,” he offers, placing the coffee down next to the already cold cup of coffee. Before he sits down, he lays a soft kiss on the top of my head.

“I got it for you, as a peace offering. I also got you a muffin, but I ate it.” I offer him an apologetic smile. “Please don’t get spooked because I touched myself.”

He leans in close, his voice barely above a whisper, “Trust me, Blake, spooked is not how I would describe my reaction.”

“I’m sorry,” I offer the apology, but it’s met with his finger on my lips, silencing my words.

“Don’t be.” He smiles.

The warmth of his touch lingers, but there’s something more in his eyes, something unspoken, that makes my heart race.

And as the silence stretches, I realize-this is only the beginning of whatever comes next.