Page 26 of Blind Date with a #Doctor
I should feel better by now. I should feel relieved that I pulled back before I got in too deep. But I don’t.
Instead, I’m sitting alone in my house, staring at my phone like it’s got the answers to all the questions spiraling in my head.
Aspen texted me earlier. Nothing major—just casual, easy words that I should have responded to like normal. But instead? I kept my answers short, distant. I hate myself for it.
The truth is, I miss her. I miss her laugh. I miss the way she steals my coffee and the way she looks at me—like I’m something more than just a man passing through her life.
Now, I don’t know where I stand with her. Last night, I saw the way she and Ryan locked eyes. The way she went quiet and the way he looked at her like he knew every version of her—the past, the present, and maybe even the future.
* * *
Monday after work where I was distracted and impatient, I don’t mean to end up at the bookstore. But that’s exactly where I go.
I walk in, and before I can even pretend I’m here for coffee, three sets of sharp, knowing eyes land on me.
Nan, Sally, and Marie are sitting at their usual table, wine glasses in hand, books forgotten. They’re waiting for me.
I hesitate and consider backing out.
But before I can turn around, Nan points a perfectly manicured finger at the empty chair across from her. “Sit.”
I sigh. “Jesus. You guys run a dictatorship in here?”
Sally grins. “Only when necessary.”
Marie swirls her wine. “And, darling, I think you’ll find this is very necessary.”
I groan but drop into the chair anyway. As much as I don’t want to be here right now…I need someone to tell me I’m being an idiot. And these women? Oh, they’ll do it with enthusiasm.
Nan leans forward, resting her chin on her hands. “So,” she says sweetly. “Are you going to tell us why you look like a man who just realized he shot himself in the foot? Or do we need to guess?”
I rub a hand over my face, groaning. “I didn’t—”
Marie waves a hand. “Oh, save it. You’re an open book.”
Sally smirks. “Ironically, in a bookstore.”
I shoot her a look, but Nan just pats my hand.
“Spill, sweetheart.”
And God help me, I do. I tell them about Ryan. How he showed up at Aspen’s party out of nowhere, looking way too comfortable, way too familiar. How he announced he was joining her firm like he had some kind of claim on her world.
I tell them how Aspen froze and didn’t say a damn word to reassure me. How, for the first time since we started this, I felt like I didn’t belong.
When I finish, they just stare at me, like they’re waiting for something more. They’re trying hard not to lose their minds.
Finally, Nan exhales sharply, takes a long sip of wine, and then sets her glass down with a decisive thunk. “Well,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re an idiot.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
Sally nods. “A certified, textbook, full-fledged idiot.”
Marie sighs dramatically. “They don’t make them like this anymore.”
I scowl. “Okay, what the hell?”
Nan leans in, voice deadly serious. “Carter. Sweetheart. Aspen is in love with you.”
