Page 41 of Dr. Intern

I cross my arms. “Frosty is a menace, not a good boy.”

“Well, he seems to like me,” she coos, scratching his oversized ears. “Maybe you’re the problem. Cats can sense when people don’t like them, you know?”

I shake my head, pretending to be irritated, but I’m thankful that the awkwardness has evaporated between us. “I’m the one who got him from the shelter! How could I not like him?”

Claire ignores my comment and chuckles to herself. “I can’t wait to tell Cassidy about this. Baby boy Beau, put in his place by a three-pound ball of fluff.”

“Don’t you dare,” I snap, trying to sound serious despite the smirk I’m desperately trying to hold back.

“Or what?” she taunts, bright blue eyes shimmering with amusement.

Happy that our normal banter is returning, I finally let my lips twitch up. “Or I’ll have him unleash his terror on you while you sleep. We’ll see how much you laugh when he’s screaming in your ear at two in the morning.”

She lets out a mock gasp. “Are you threatening me, Beau Buffington?”

“Consider it a warning,” I reply with a wink.

Claire rolls her eyes as she sits up, dark hair falling loosely across her chest. “Well, I’m not scared. This little guy and I are partners in crime now. Isn’t that right, Frosty?”

She scoops the kitten into her arms and cradles him like a baby. “Plus, I’m pretty sure he’s only interested in terrorizing you.”

The kitten seems to purr even louder in response, and Claire shoots me a triumphant look.

“Worst decision ever,” I lie.

It’s hard to tell at this point if she came out of her room to witness my takedown, or save me from torment. Either way, I’m not going to complain because my impulsive plan seems to have worked.

“Can we keep him?” she asks, batting her full lashes at me.

I prod my cheek with my tongue as I consider, knowing full well that there’s no way I can refuse her. I’d give her anything she wanted if it meant seeing her like this—with pure joy radiating from her face.

Claire pops her lower lip out to make a pout. “Please? I need an ally to help put you in your place.”

I chuckle. “You have no problem putting me in my place, Claire.”

“True,” she admits. “But it would be so much more fun with an accomplice.”

“Fine, but the moment he turns on you, don’t come running upstairs to me.”

She runs her tongue over her bottom lip as her cheeks flush bright red. “I wouldn’t dare. We both know how that turned out last time.”

Chapter 17

Claire

Ithink Parker is paying his best friend to be nice to me.

Why else would Beau go out of his way to do all of this? The man is already so busy with work, it makes no sense why he would use his precious free time doing things that make me feel comfortable. Whatever his reason, it’s working—I feel more at home with him than I could have imagined, especially given our history.

Any time he’s around, I feel my defenses crumbling. I don’t want to like him. I want to push him away and run in the opposite direction. But there’s just something about him that just makes me feel like I’m free to be myself. Like he’s accepted who I am, and he supports that version of me wholeheartedly.

That’s also why I spent the whole day in my room avoiding him. I was terrified that I had ruined everything last night and embarrassed that I ran away, unable to confront the aftermath like an adult.

I’ve never been a stranger to conflict with my family, probably because they’re sort of stuck with me regardless of what I say or do. Even if I take things too far, I know they’ll always be there because that’s what they signed up for the day I was born.

But Beau is different, and I can’t gauge our boundaries. He’s been clear that he doesn’t want me romantically, yet his flirtatious banter sends mixed signals, and I can’t help but send them right back. Every interaction between us feels natural and effortless until the words slip out, and I’m left wondering if I’ve pushed too far—if I’m too much for him, like I fear I am for everyone else.

The thought of conflict with Beau makes my stomach churn. I’m terrified of destroying this friendship between us, or whatever it is. I truthfully don’t know what you’d call it, but I do know that I’ve already lost so much this year, the thought of losing him too seems unbearable.

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