Page 45 of Dr. Attending

Morgan reaches for a bottle of tequila from the wood-paneled shelf above her head.

“As long as I can pay it off with sexual favors,” she says, winking as she spins back in my direction.

I sigh and drop my head into my hands. A joke like that should make me laugh, or at least crack a smile. But right now, it just makes me want to go to bed because I’m exhausted, cranky, and not feeling like myself. I just need a minute alone to sit and think, which is ridiculous because I’m always alone, and the one time I’m not, it’s all that I want. I can’tbelieve I’m saying this, but I think I’m actually looking forward to going home tomorrow.

The sound of a closing cabinet door makes me glance up from my pity party because I’m expecting to have to direct Morgan to the glassware. But—of course—she has some sort of radar for margaritas, and she’s holding a glass in each hand.

“Want me to ask . . . or do you want tequila first?”

I shift on the leather barstool. “Depends what you’re asking.”

Like my sister, Morgan has no filter on her thoughts. Most of the things that come out of her mouth are absolutely off the wall, but I am surprised that she waited until now to confront me because discretion isn’t exactly something she’s known for.

She places the crystal glasses between us as one side of her mouth quirks up like she has a secret that she’s been dying to share, and it’s been eating her up inside.

“What happened between you and Weston last night?

“Tequila,” I answer, hoping the liquor will camouflage the flame that I can feel spread across my cheeks and down my neck.

Morgan’s smirk transforms into a salacious grin as she pours her concoction and slides it across the bar.

I pick up the drink and down half in a single gulp.

“Fuck,” I sputter because it burns more than I’m expecting on the way down. “What did you put in there? Gasoline?”

She rolls her eyes and takes a long sip of her drink, swallowing it down like it’s a glass of water instead of a poisonous cocktail. “It’s Mezcal. And it’s perfect . . . just like your tits, apparently.”

What the—

Fucking Wes.

“Woah there, killer.” She laughs, probably realizing that she needs to talk me down from the look on my face.

“He told you?” My words come out uneven, almost like I’m about to cry.

I don’t know why I’m surprised. Of course, it wouldn’t matter to him that we promised to keep things between us until we could talk today—all douchelords like to flaunt their conquests. And that’s what I was to him.

Once again.

“Chill,” Morgan hisses, stealing my glass out of my hands before I can chug down the rest of my drink. “He didn’t say shit, even though I made a very convincing appeal for dirty details at lunch.”

I stare at her, not understanding.

She shrugs as she pours my cocktail into her glass. “I guess he has two interconnected video baby monitors, or something, because he left one on the coffee table downstairs. I got bored of the documentary Walker was making us watch last night and picked it up because I thought it was a radio.”

My pulse steadies slightly until I remember that I’m speaking to the world’s biggest gossip.

I narrow my eyes in warning. “You better not—”

She waves me off. “Why do you think I kept my mouth shut earlier when Claire said she saw y’all in the kitchen?”

I want to find a way to continue to be upset about this because, after years of practice, frustration is a much easier emotion forme to process when it comes to Weston. But this clearly isn’t his fault. He was respectful, deliberate, and honestly kind of cute with the whole thing. He even sent me several texts last night after we went to bed which made me fall asleep with a smile on my face for the first time in a while.

I shake my head, unable to stop my grin.“Because you’re a greedy little gremlin who enjoys watching drama unfold.”

“Ouch.” She raises her hand to her heart like she’s offended. “Wait, actually, call me names again. That was kind of hot. Almost as hot as the porn-worthy moans you made last night.”

“I wanted to listen for longer, but my lame-ass husband made me turn it off,” she adds casually as she sips her toxic concoction. “Such a fun sucker.”

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