Page 44 of The Love Operation

Isaac paces, dragging a hand through his hair, looking disturbed beyond reason.

“What is happening?” I ask. “Are you having a seizure?”

He’s still turned away when he mutters, “You’re a doctor, and you don’t know if I’m having a seizure?”

“I specialize in orthopedics,” I jest.

He chuckles, getting my joke about orthopedists not being real doctors (baloney), but it’s a tight laugh. He’s breathing weirdly, and his shoulders keep shifting, like he’s psyching himself up to do something awful.

“Isaac. I gotta tell ya, I’m getting mixed signals here.” I cross my arms. “I can’t say I find it charming that you just threw flowers in my face. And you’d better thank your lucky stars I’m not allergic, or you didn’t knock Tad Cooper off.”

“That thing,” he says, pointing in my direction, but still not looking at me. “Is that thing on your shoulder . . . on purpose?”

“Thing?” I blink. “Please tell me you did not just call my dragon a thing.”

“Dragon? It’s not a lizard?”

I roll my eyes. “Of course he’s a lizard. Mr. Thompson, are you afraid of lizards?” I am giddy at the thought.

Isaac inhales deeply, looking physically pained. “If you must know, I do have a reptile phobia.”

This just keeps getting better.

“You do realize Tad Cooper is a chameleon, right? He’s less than a pound. You’re much larger than he is.”

“I wish that mattered,” he mutters. “Trust me. Right now, I really, really wish I wasn’t having this reaction.”

“Have you seen anyone about this phobia?”

“No. I just avoid reptiles.”

“Maybe if you touched hi—”

“No!” Then more quietly, “No.”

“Well, okay. Are you going to be able to come inside?”

“Can you take him off your shoulder? Does he have a cage or something? Or another house he could visit?”

“Give me a second.”

Once I’ve safely closed Tad Cooper up in my bedroom, apologizing profusely the whole time, Isaac follows me to the kitchen, scanning my body as if confirming I’m not concealing a backup lizard.

“W-where is he?”

“My bedroom.” I can’t keep the smile off my face. “So, unless he manages to escape his cage and work the doorknob, you’re safe.”

Isaac eyes me, like he wants to believe I’m joking.

“My goodness. You’re really scared,” I say, rubbing his arm and not hating the muscles under the sleeve of his dress shirt. “What happened? Did one bite you at the zoo? Did you put your foot in a shoe and find a surprise that haunts you? I seriously don’t think I can continue this night until I know.”

“Can we sit down?”

I gesture toward the barstools, then pour us each a glass of merlot. He downs half of his in one go, then sighs and rubs a hand over his jaw. “When I was a kid, my aunt had a huge iguana named Zeus. I didn’t like it because it would stare at me, but she swore it was harmless. It wasn’t.” He grips his wine glass, rolling the stem between his fingers. “One day, Zeus launched himself off the curtain rod and attached directly onto my face, like a facehugger from Alien.”

I choke on my sip of wine.

“I was six.” His voice is flat.