Page 50 of Dr. Intern

“One hundred and ten percent,” I answer honestly.

She rolls her eyes. “That’s not a possible score, idiot.”

I smirk. “It is when you get extra credit.”

“I want you too.”

Her words hang in the air and for the first time in my life, I’m stunned into silence. What do you say when the only thing you’ve been wanting for months finally comes true? I feel like a giddy teenager with his first crush, not a grown-ass doctor who saves lives.

There’s a small part of me that wonders if she would have admitted this when she was sober. But truthfully, it doesn’t fucking matter, because drunk words are sober thoughts. And I’m just thankful to know the truth.

“Obviously you want me,” I tease, the smirk on my face growing into a full-blown smile.

Claire frowns and kicks her foot out, attempting to hit me on the shin.

Grabbing her leg in the air before it makes impact, I warn, “Don’t make me put you in time out.”

She responds with a huff, her feisty spirit shining through once more. “I’d like to see you try.”

As much as I’d love to show her my version of timeout, I restrain myself.

“Let’s get you in bed,” I say, releasing her leg. “I’m going to leave a trash can next to you just in case.”

I offer her my hand and she takes it, allowing me to pull her up. “Always a gentleman.”

I laugh. “You love it.”

While I get her a fresh glass of water, Claire changes out of her clothes and into a set of pajamas. On the way back from the kitchen, I grab a few extra pillows, positioning them beside her so she doesn’t roll onto her back and choke in the middle of the night. The rounds of vomiting probably helped a ton, and though she seems much better, you can never be too sure.

Once she’s settled beneath her massive white comforter, I toss a pillow and blanket from the living room down on the carpeted floor.

“What are you doing?” Claire asks, peering over at me with wide eyes as I turn off the room light and close the door.

“Going to sleep,” I state, dropping to the ground. Fortunately, her bedroom is carpeted, so this won’t be the worst sleep of my life. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Why are you doing that?”

“Playing twenty questions tonight, are we?” I joke, fluffing the couch pillow as best as I can before lowering my head.

She sighs dramatically, loud enough for me to hear. “Is it fun for you to make everything so difficult?”

I grin at the ceiling. “Seems like you’ve finally met your match.”

Claire doesn’t respond for a while and for a second I think she’s fallen asleep, which is good because I’ve only got about four hours until I need to get my ass up.

“You know you can sleep in the bed with me right?” Her voice cuts through the darkness like a warm caress, tempting me with everything I’ve ever wanted.

“Not yet I can’t.”

“Why?” she probes, drawing out the simple question on her lips.

“Because I don’t trust myself in the same bed as you.”

“You can sleep on the other side,” she suggests. “I’ll create a pillow barrier between us. We won’t even have to touch.”

I shake my head, admiring her effort. It would be so easy to give in . . . to slip beneath the covers and tempt myself with her closeness. But I can’t. I know myself better than that.

“While I love that you think I have that much control, when it comes to you, pretty girl, I promise you that I don’t. And I’m not going to touch you until I talk to Parker.”

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