Page 25 of Must Be Love - Irresistible Bachelors

Mike and I finish up our last game. I won the second, but he takes the third.

“Two out of three. Not bad,” he smirks, packing up his ball.

“I’ll get you next month.”

I say this every month, but it’s rarely true. Mike is a much better bowler than I am.

“Ready to hit the bar?”

Mike nods. “Let’s do it.”

This is the second part of our tradition. This bowling alley has a small bar attached. The patrons are older guys, smoking cigars and playing pool. They give us funny looks when we walk in, probably wondering if we found the place by accident, but they leave us alone to drink and talk.

Since it’s a Monday night, we’re not going crazy. Mike and I each order a beer and clink our bottles together.

“To bowling and beer,” he toasts.

It’s the same toast every month.

“To bowling and beer,” I repeat.

We each take a long sip. The ale is refreshing after our games.

“So, you’re still in the testing phase for these new products, right?” Mike asks.

I nod. “It’s a long process. I know they told us a bit about it in that clinical trial class we took in college, but it’s insane how much goes into testing a product. I want approval on everything so it’s more legit, which means even more work.”

“See, that’s the part I would’ve hated. I love coming up with the shit, but I don’t want to do anything else after that.”

“You’re the idea guy.”

“And the development guy. You should see the stuff I’ve been making in my basement.”

I laugh. “Maybe you should share it with me. I’ll give you credit when it hits big for Blake.”

“Maybe I will.”

I take another sip of my beer.

“You know, the testing really isn’t that bad. It’s mostly hands off. Except for this time around.”

“What do you mean?”

“I met this girl at the convention last week. She got her hands on the serum, and in a weird series of events, she’s going to be testing it for me.”

“That doesn’t seem official to me.”

“It wasn’t at first, but it’s on the up and up now. I couldn’t resist, man. You should see her. She’s gorgeous.”

“Damn. You get the practice, the cosmeceutical company, and the gorgeous woman testing your products. How do I get to be you?”

There’s a hint of jealousy in Mike’s words, and I feel guilty. It’s not nice of me to rub this in his face when he’s struggling. Especially because all of this could have been his, too, if his mom hadn’t taken a turn for the worse.

“The good comes with the bad,” I warn. “Some patient is trying to sue me for not fixing her Botox, and I didn’t even do her injections.”

Mike chuckles. “Sounds about right. My receptionist sent me a review the other day. A patient I did a consultation for left me a bad review because I couldn’t make her cheekbones more prominent. What, exactly, do these people think we do?”

“I wonder that constantly. It’s insane the requests we get. It makes me sympathetic toward plastic surgeons. If we’re getting patients like this, it’s probably a million times worse for them.”

“Cheers to picking a less terrible profession than plastic surgery,” Mike says, holding up his bottle to mine.

I can toast to that. I love dermatology. I can’t see myself ever doing anything else.

Mike checks the time. It’s getting close to nine, which is late for us.

“I should get going. Mom is at home alone. She was in bed when I left, so she should be fine, but I hate leaving her for long.”

We finish up our beers, gather our bowling stuff, and head out.

“See you next month?” I ask.

Mike nods. “Can’t wait to kick your ass again.”

We’re both laughing as we walk our separate ways. Mike lives in Jersey and commutes in for work, so he drove here. I walk the two blocks to the nearest subway station. It’s cold out tonight, but the walk is refreshing.

My phone rings as I step out of the subway and onto my street. It’s my mother, who always seems to have impeccable timing.

At least her call last week didn’t ruin my appointment with Amber.

Just thinking about that has my cock straining against my jeans again. I’ve never gone down on a woman in an exam room before. It was insanely hot. We could’ve gotten caught at any second. Besides just that, it’s against so many rules to hit on patients.

But I don’t care. I’d do it again.

I plan on doing it again, the next time I see Amber.

The ringing stops, only to start up again. I blow out a breath and decide to answer. If I don’t, she’ll just keep calling.

It’s what my mother does best.

“Hello?”

“Aaron! Finally. I’ve been trying to reach you all week.”

My mom is the only person who calls me Aaron. I’ve tried to get her to switch to AJ, but she prefers using my first name.

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