Page 15 of One Moment Please
He folds himself in beside me, and I have to admit, he does seem really uncomfortable. His legs have to spread so wide, our knees touch. Too casually for my liking, he drapes his arm behind me as he works to get comfortable. The move makes me feel like I’m too close to him, his scent…and just…his presence.
Is it getting hot in here?
“We’re making two stops.” Josh grabs my phone out of my hand before I can even blink.
“Just manhandle my personal property, why don’t you,” I murmur. His face glows in the dark from my screen as he adds his address into the app.
He frowns and finishes what he’s doing before handing it back to me while the driver exits the parking lot.
There are maybe ten seconds of dark, blissful silence before Josh drones, “A psych major, of all things.”
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Not this again.”
“So, you’re telling me that you were working on your little thesis in the hospital cafeteria all these weeks?” he asks in such a patronizing tone, I want to strangle him.
My lips purse. “If I answer this redundant question, are you going to threaten to turn me in to the psych ward again?”
Turning to him, I catch his eyes drifting over my legs as though he’s examining me. “I’m still trying to decide.”
I pin him with a look. “Yes, I was working on my paper. I don’t know why the hospital cafeteria helped my focus, but it did, and I was so desperate to finish that I just kept coming back. As I said earlier today, I didn’t know it was against any rules. I thought it was like a normal waiting room.”
He sighs heavily and gazes back at me. “I suppose it’s not against any rules.”
My upper lip curls. “So, you just decided to confront me today for what…your own twisted amusement?”
He ignores my question. “Are you sure you know what you’re asking for?”
“In regard to what?”
“In regard to what you want your psychology specialty to be. Do you have any idea what it’s like to work with sick children? You do realize that’s what a psychologist does, right? Works with sick children? It’s far different from your spoiled little nieces.”
His voice is hard, but his eyes betray him with a hint of emotion that confounds me. “First of all, my nieces arenotspoiled. You know nothing about them. And second, I did fieldwork for my degree. So yes, I have a fair idea. And I know it won’t be easy, but it will be rewarding to help them. Children are superior to adults in so many ways. They have a greater aptitude for learning. They’re more open-minded, less cynical—”
“—more needy, tons of work, hard to handle,” he finishes my sentence flatly as though he’s talking about the weather. “They aren’t worth it.”
“Aren’t worth what?” I snap, hating his tone.
“They aren’t worth the risk.”
My face twists up in confusion. “What doesthatmean?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He scoffs and looks out the window, that square jaw of his outlined by the streetlights. “I’ll take adult patients over pediatric patients any day.”
“And deprive young, eager minds of your dazzling, sparkling, jovial personality?” I ask with an obnoxious bounce to my tone.
He cuts me a warning look, and his eyes linger on my lips when he replies, “Who says the word jovial when it isn’t in reference to Santa Claus?”
“A grad student with non-seasonal vocabulary skills,” I snap. “And someone who experiences emotions outside of dickholeitis.”
“I’d rather be a dick than naïve. That’s why I think people who want to have children should be subject to a psych evaluation. Stat.” His eyes light with a hint of humor. “Another reason for you to have a psych eval. Do you see the common denominator today?”
I jut out my chin. “Do you see how big your dick has gotten?”
Josh’s face instantly lightens. “What?”
My cheeks heat. “I mean…”
He tries and fails to hold back his laughter. “Have you been looking at my dick?”
