Page 3 of Finally Yours
He strokes his full grey beard and peers at me wisely. “You know, Dr. Kennedy loved you like a son. He would have loved to have you for a son-in-law. There’s nothing wrong with having feelings for Lyla. She’s a beautiful girl, smart as a whip too.”
I snap the chart closed and give Bruce a grim look. “Look, I know you mean well, but I have no interest in her. Absolutely none. She’s like a little sister to me. Kissing her would be like kissing this chart here,” I say and hold up the chart, “no feelings, no response. Got me, Bruce?”
I hear a feminine gasp and turn to my left. I catch sight of Lyla’s curvy body in her blue scrubs scurrying around a corner as fast as her legs will go.
I glance down at the floor. “Fuck,” I spit out, “I didn’t mean for her to hear that.”
Bruce claps me on the shoulder again. “Yeah, but she did, and so now you have to fix it.”
I look up into his wise eyes and see a spark of understanding and patience.
“What if I’m not worthy of someone like Lyla?” I ask softly. “What if Michael wouldn’t want me to be with her that way?” I shake my head. “I mean, she’s an angel, and I’m,” I spread my arms out wide, “I’m me, which isn’t nearly angel material.”I’m as far from an angel as you can get, hence the kinky dreams.
Bruce grins. “Well, sometimes women fall for us anyway. When I met my wife, I was a goddamn idiot, but she married me anyway.” He slaps me on the back again and I roll my shoulder in reaction. The man may be old, but his slaps are still potent as hell. “Go apologize to the girl and go from there.”
Chapter Four
Yeah, I knew guys were dumbasses, but for some reason I expected better from him. -Lyla
Lyla
I hastily wipe at the tears streaming down my cheeks and try to gather up the bedpans Nurse Vicky barked at me to get a few minutes ago. A few of them drop to the floor while I search the shelves blindly.
I swipe my cheek again.Stupid tears. Why am I crying? I knew this was how he felt. He’s never made a move that would make me think different…except for those times when he looks at me with those emerald eyes and there’s something akin to desire in them. There’s a warmth there that looks more than big brotherlike…
I shake my head.Shut up, Lyla.With his words to Dr. Blanchard, he made his position clear. I snort. Kissing me would be as enticing as kissing a chart.Fuck him.I angrily stack bedpan on top of bedpan. I’ve kissed a few boys in my time and let me tell you…they didn’t think I tasted like a piece of paper. Why, Tommy Ford and I even made it to third base…I think that was third base. Is that under the clothing or over it? Anyway, a boob was definitely touched in the process…
I slam down the bedpans on the nearest cart and gather up a few other supplies we may need today.Fuck Asher and all the fucking models he’s dated. Yep, my dream man has wentthrough women like tissue paper over the last few years. Each one more beautiful and snarky than the last. He’s even dated a few of the nurses here. And believe me those women gossip. I’ve had to hear all about his moves. He’s gone a lot further than third base. And then there was that time he dated that beautiful doctor…sigh, no I am not Asher girlfriend material.
I pause, closing my eyes and holding onto one of the shelves.I hurt. My heart aches. Why does this hurt so damn bad?
Maybe because teenage Lyla was still holding out hope. I lean my head against the upper shelf and breathe out. I think back, remembering the first time I met him…
“Lyla, get down here! There’s a new resident at the hospital I want you to meet. I invited him over for dinner.” My father’s loud voice booms throughout the house and I pause while looking at the text I just received from my best friend. Gracie just texted me that Lewis Richards asked about me during band practice and I should probably respond…
“Lyla, now!” My father’s hard voice brooks no argument and I heave the sigh of an annoyed teenager.
My walk down the stairs is the walk of the damned. I hate meeting my father’s work colleagues. I’m not the best in social situations as it is, but these dinners are damned boring. I don’t know why he insists on…
Holy Dr. McDreamy…is that the new resident? I stumble down the last two steps and strong arms reach out to steady me.
“Whoa there, little one, I got you.” The deep voice that emanates from the most handsome man on the planet fills me with awe.
I look up, dumbstruck. He has the most beautiful emerald eyes I’ve ever seen. And the matching dimples in his cheeks…and I suddenly realize I’m clinging to him like a vine.
“Oops,” I step back, and my face reddens.
My father introduces me to Dr. Asher Cannon that night, and even at thirteen I know this is the man I want to marry. When he shakes my hand, I feel it. I feel the electric connection between us. And when he looks at me, he doesn’t focus on my pimples or the glasses that are slightly too big for my face. He looks into my eyes and gives me a wide smile. He must feel it too.
I shake myself out of the memory. I can normally laugh at the memory, but today I just feel hopeless.Nope, he didn’t feel anything then and he doesn’t feel it now.
“Lyla, are you in here?” Asher’s husky voice causes me to jump, and a few boxes of gloves go flying.
“Shit,” I say and kneel down. “Yep, I’m in here, Asher. Give me just a minute.”
He opens the door further and peeks his head in. When he sees me on the ground, gathering up the gloves, he pushes his way inside and bends down to help me.
“Fuck!” I groan and look over at him with wide eyes.
