Page 68 of Wait With Me
“Well…not only patients’ families. There’s this older doctor who is kind of a dick. He keeps scowling at me every time he sees me. I can’t tell if that’s his face or if he thinks I’m a freak.”
“Just ignore him. If he’s a doctor, I’m sure he’s way too busy to worry about you.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m only noticing him because he’s fuckingstupidhot. Like take McDreamy and McSteamy and rub their penises together. That’s how hot he is.”
I nearly spew wine out my nose. “Lynsey! That was scandalous!”
She shrugs. “I know this girl who writes the best kinky books. You should check her out sometimes, broaden your horizons.” She shoots me a wink and adds, “So now that Dryston is finally officially gone, does that mean there’s nothing to stop you from pursuing more with Miles?”
“Except for that whole pesky first name business,” I reply, pursing my lips off to the side because I already miss him like crazy. I’ve been avoiding Miles for fear of Dryston stopping by unexpectedly. But I’m not going to be able to stay away much longer. I need to come clean about everything. Get it all out there and hope he understands.
She shakes that off like it’s nothing and sucks down the rest of her drink. It’s nearing eleven, but I can already tell this is going to be one of those nights we have to cab it home.
Lynsey looks around with a pinched expression. “Do we not get a waitress over here?” She lets out a little growl and stands up. “I’m going to go pee and grab drinks at the bar. Another wine?”
“Please!” I bellow at her retreating back.
And no sooner do I sit back in my chair to ponder what I should text to Miles now that Dryston is somewhat squared away, than the man himself sits down right next to me.
“Honey, I’m home!” Dryston laughs obnoxiously and grabs my wine glass. He tips it to his lips, guzzling down the last remaining drops and hits me with a half-lidded stare. “How are you, Katie?”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. He’s the only one in my life who’s ever called me Katie, and I can’t believe I ever thought it was cute. “I’m fine, Dryston. How are you?”
I eye him up and down for a minute, noting that he’s clearly drunk. His body is swaying slighting as he props his arms on the metal table. It’s been two months since he left for the summer, and I haven’t missed him one bit.
And he’s clearly still trying to come off like some Hamptons big shot, which means absolutely nothing in Boulder. I glance down and see he’s got his typical boat shoes on with no socks and his standard khaki chinos. On top, he has a white button-down with at least five buttons popped open to reveal his ridiculously perfect summer tan. His blond hair is styled into a mess of over-gelled spikes with his sunglasses propped on top of his head even though it’s been dark out for hours.
He is the exact opposite of Miles in every possible way.
What the fuck was I ever thinking?
My only defense is that it was before I even knew that guys like Miles existed. And even though Dryston was a pompous ass a lot of the time, we still had some fun times together. I can’t deny that fact. We traveled the world, went to crazy parties, and experienced a lot. I think he kept me around because my job was so flexible that if he wanted to fly to the beach for the weekend, we could. It was easy to get swept up in the excitement of travel and ignore everything else that was missing between us.
The connection. The emotion. The passion.
We never had any of that. I’ve known Miles a fraction of that time, and we have that in spades.
“Goddamn, Katie. Did you look this good when I left?” he asks, his brown eyes lowering and taking in my tight olive green tank dress. It’s ruched on the sides, and the scoop neck goes low enough to show a little cleavage, but I mostly love it for its color. Green complements redheads, and I had some sick hope of ending up at Miles’s place tonight.
“This is so typical.”
“What?” he leers.
“You come crawling back into town and think you can get whatever you want.” I shake my head in disgust.
He doesn’t seem the least bit put off. “What? I don’t remember your tits looking this good. I need a refresher.”
“Don’t be a pig, Dryston.”
“Don’t be a bitch, Katie.”
I eye him with a cold glare, my posture stiffening at his combative tone. Through clenched teeth, I ask, “What do you want?”
He leans across the corner of the table and slides a finger along my upper arm. “I want to come home.”
“No!” I exclaim, yanking myself back from his touch. “Dryston, we’re broken up. Your shit is in storage. There’s absolutely no reason for you to come back to the house.”
“Well, it’s fucking bullshit that you moved it without my permission. If anything is damaged, I’m making you pay for it.”
