Page 15 of Dr. Aster

I was more than happy to help out, even if it meant my day just got a whole lot busier.

“Are you still alive?” Allison, the administration specialist, asked while typing away on her computer, sending the last of the prescriptions I’d handed her from my most recent patient.

Allison was one of the people I liked most at the hospital. She was a boisterous Latina—descended from Aztec warriors, she liked to tell people—with big curly hair and a beautiful, bright smile. I appreciated her joyful energy, especially on days when I was barely holding it together.

“I’m doing great. You look like you’re toast, though,” I chuckled, signing one last order for a patient I’d sent to the main hospital to be watched due to early contractions. Tonight might be her lucky night, but I had a feeling the contractions wouldn’t take off like she wanted them to.

To ease her mind, I set her up to stay in the hospital overnight. She lived over an hour away, and if her water didn’t break, I would induce her in the morning after making my rounds.

Pretty routine, really. She was ten days overdue and beyond ready to have her baby. She also tested positive for Group B Streptococcus, something that would harm the baby while traveling through the birth canal, so getting her on IV Antibiotics to prevent that was proactive in ensuring the child’s safety.

Besides that, it was a routine and hectic day for me, and even though I felt a bit tired, I did feel good. I’d even taken on four of John’s patients and still managed to keep ahead of the curve all day.

“Ah, at least one of us is feeling great,” John said, coming up from behind me and handing off charts to Allison. “I’m ready for a beer.”

“That bad, eh?” I said, smiling over at him.

I hated when our eyes locked for brief moments like these. It stressed me out because I would get a surge of energy that jolted straight from my heart to my groin. It wasn’t because I was drooling over how gorgeous this man was, either. It was the strangest damn thing because I honestly had no feelings for the man. He was just a cool guy and friend—so why this happened? I would never know.

“No,” he winked at me, “just using any excuse to get you out for a beer with me.”

“She’s still turning you down, huh, Doc?” Allison said, her long, pointed acrylic nails tapping erratically on the keyboard of her iMac.

“The only one foolish enough to do so.” He arched an eyebrow at me in a challenging way. “I think she’s just too afraid. Or shy?”

“I’m not afraid of anything, Dr. Aster,” I reminded him. It was the second time he’d used that line this week after I turned him down for an after-work beer.

Allison stopped tapping away on the keypad and folded her arms, swiveling in her chair to stare at both of us. “You both are cute,” she said.

“Cute? There’s nothing cute about Dr. Smith and me,” John teased.

“The way you both banter like nothing is happening behind your icy hearts.”

She eyed us both like we were children who got busted for doing something we were unaware of.

“What?” I questioned in confusion.

She grinned, stood, and shouldered her purse draped over the back of her chair. “Acting like nothing is happening, and you’re both just friends.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” John spoke confidently as if Allison hadn’t been watching us flirting all month, “and something is going on behind my icy heart, I need to know now, or my date tomorrow night will feel cheated.”

“Not my problem,” Allison said. “You two enjoy another great evening of rejecting the other’s advances because you’re both afraid of love.”

Both of us stood with half-amused smiles on our faces, watching her walk out the door before we looked at each other, trying to figure out what had happened.

“What the hell was that all about?” John asked, giving me eyes to signal that our sweet friend was half out of her mind.

“You tell me,” I said, gathering the last of the papers I’d laid on the counter. “You’re the one who insists on getting me to go out for a beer, and now the staff thinks something is going on between us.”

“I’m persistent with anyone who turns down my invitations,” he responded. “I won’t let up on you or anyone else rejecting me.”

“And when they finally stop rejecting you?” I grinned at his perplexed expression, then walked toward my corner office at the end of the hall.

“Then I finally leave them be,” he said, obviously right on my heels. “So, if you want me to leave you alone, just go for a beer with me.”

“What if I don’t want you to leave me alone?”

I thought I’d throw a curveball into his game.

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