Page 12 of Egotistical Jerk
One step, then two, then three. Before I knew it, we were toe to toe. Those pesky little butterflies in my tummy fluttered about furiously while his ridiculously delicious scent wrapped around me like a hug. I wasn't short or petite, but standing in front of this giant of a man was intimidating. I'd never show it, though. Tilting my chin upward ever so slightly, I kept our gazes locked.
He leaned in, close enough for me to smell mint on his breath, and gritted out, "Thirty minutes, Phillips." Then he took one step to the side and walked past me, his arm brushing mine in the process. Even though four layers of fabric separated our skin, I still felt the heat of his touch. So small, yet so magnified.
So stupid.
"Ladies," Dr. Hogue tipped his head, his amusement evident in the too-wide-grin he was sporting and the mirth shining in his eyes. He, too, slipped past us and hurried away. I turned in time to see his palm connect with Dr. Ryker's shoulder blade while his head was thrown back with laughter.
"I can't believe you just did that," Mary breathed out when the shiny doors slid shut and the elevator began its climb.
"Did what?" I swallowed down the rest of my coffee and concentrated very hard on not squishing the empty cup. Every single encounter with that man left me wired. It set my entire body on high alert, almost like it was readying itself for some sort of fight.
"The way you spoke to Dr. Ryker," she shook her head. "Aren't you afraid he'll fire you or something?"
I pulled my braid over my shoulder and twirled it between my fingers. "He's just a person, Mary. If he wants my respect, he has to earn it." Giving her a long sideways glance, I added, "You can't tell me you haven't noticed that he treats me differently."
"Well, yeah. But still—" she shifted her feet uncomfortably, her fingers scrubbing the back of her neck. "He basically has our careers in his hands. It's not smart to piss him off."
The elevator jerked to a stop, the doors parting with a whoosh, and we stepped onto our floor. Touching my palm to Mary's forearm, I halted her.
"Memorial isn't the only hospital with a diagnostics department. It very well is the only one with a Dr. Ryker, but he isn't the beginning and end of all things. He isn't some sort of god with a superpower; he's just a man." I pinned her with a stare. "Remember that."
She nodded carefully. I could tell her take on the matter differed from mine. That was okay. Some people were brought up to follow the leader, while others led.
I wasn't a follower.
"Thanks for the coffee."
I held my to-go cup in the air before making my way to Gillian's desk to recheck my reports. If Dr. Ryker was going to lay into me, I wanted to be sure he couldn't say a damn thing about my work.
Twenty-five minutes later, I was seated across from him in his office. His dark brown hair looked a little tousled, almost as if someone had run their fingers through it. Annoying as it might have been, I envied the woman who got to touch him.
Unaware of my thoughts, he regarded me as he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms in front of his broad chest.
"I heard you came to see Mrs. DuBois yesterday."
Mirroring his movement, I carefully answered, "I did."
"It was your day off."
"It was."
He sighed heavily. "You can't allow yourself to get personally involved. It's not healthy."
"Really?" In an instant, my voice climbed a few octaves higher. "It's unhealthy to show kindness to another human being? Is that why you're always scowling at me, Dr. Ryker? Because it's not good for you to be friendly?"
"Phillips."
"I haven't done a single thing to deserve this kind of treatment. You are constantly looking down your nose at me, like you're just waiting for me to slip up so you can send me packing." Fuming, I sat up straighter and pulled my shoulders back. "I have news for you, Dr. Ryker. I am going to be the best damn diagnostician this hospital has ever seen."
My heart was racing, my breaths coming in quick bursts.
His gaze flicked to my chest for a fraction of a second before he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. His loud intake of breath was accompanied by flaring nostrils and an expanding chest. Slowly, meticulously, his lids parted; dark, intense eyes peered at me through thick lashes.
"You're dangerously close to being insubordinate, Phillips." There was a measured calmness to his tone that sent an ice-cold shiver down my spine.
For a hot, intense second I entertained the idea of pushing him over the edge he was carefully balancing on. It wouldn't have taken much either. I could see it on his face. One more word from me and the calm he'd forced on himself would dissipate to set the brewing storm free.
What would it look like when he finally let go?
