Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“I mentioned the doctor thing first, and I shouldn’t have. I’m about to start the foundation program. If it’s okay by you, can we not talk about being doctors, or medical school, or hospitals or anything like that? I just can’t think about it. I’m as nervous as a long-tailed cat in room full of rocking chairs.”
A long-tailed cat? I wanted to laugh but the look on her face told me she wasn’t joking. I shrugged. “Fine by me.” Her proposition was unexpected—for most doctors, their work was their lives and the idea of not mentioning medicine for an entire evening would feel like walking the Great Wall of China in twenty-four hours—absolutely impossible. To me the idea was intriguing. The Coves talked about medicine all the time, and it had been the same since I could remember.
“There should be a forfeit for breaking the rule,” she said, an unexpectedly playful glint in her eye.
“Not messing around, I see. What kind of forfeit?”
She gave a one-shouldered shrug and for the first time, I was conscious of her exposed skin in an electric-blue, one-shouldered top. It was the one time in my life blue seemed sexy and didn’t make me think of hospital masks.
The hostess returned with our margaritas in oversized glasses. Orange peel sculpted into weird shapes decorated the sides.
“We’ve started on the margs,” she said. “Maybe a tequila shot?”
Sutton was already more intriguing than I’d expected. I knew for certain that tonight was going to be fun. Beau had missed out.
“Done. The ban starts . . . now.” I raised my glass.
She lifted hers in response, the challenge in her eye drawing my attention. She was a fighter. I could see it in her and there was something extremely attractive about that.
I took a sip of my drink but Sutton paused, the glass still offered up in celebration. “You know, I’m not sure I have anything to talk about, if I’m not talking about medicine.”
I made the sound of a buzzer. “One tequila shot, coming right up.” I caught a passing waiter and ordered the shot. “Very poor play by you, if I may say so. You failed coming out of the gate. You’ve got to try a little harder from now on.”
She laughed and took a sip of her margarita. “Fair enough. So, your turn. Tell me about yourself.”
The waiter presented the tequila and I indicated it was Sutton’s.
“Not until you take your shot.”
She set down her margarita and picked up the shot glass. Before I had a chance to wish her luck or tell her she couldn’t sip it, she downed it.
I took another sip of my drink to cover the look of satisfaction that must have been plastered all over my face.
“You were saying,” she said, without missing a beat, a grin threatening at the corners of her mouth.
“I have four brothers.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Wow. Are they all . . . Wow.”
I chuckled. “Are they all what? Pains in my arse? Affirmative.”
“Little brothers?”
“Unfortunately. What about you?”
The glimmer that had been in her eye since she’d been challenged to take her shot dimmed a little. “I have some stepsiblings I’ve never met. They live in Texas.”
“Medicine is a hard business to be in and maintain relationships.”
“Ding, ding, ding, ding. Looks like we need more tequila for our lucky winner,” Sutton said, beaming at me.
“Hey, that doesn’t count. It was a general observation.”
She tutted. “Reneging on a deal—very unattractive. Didn’t catch me doing that, did you?” she said, challenging and charming in equal measure.
I held her gaze. “I’d hate for you to think I wasn’t attractive.” It was true—I wanted her to be as attracted to me as I was to her.
I called another waiter over and ordered another shot. Maybe I should have just ordered a bottle. The way we were going, we’d both be trashed before the starters.
I took my shot, tried not to wince, and then topped up both of our water glasses. I didn’t want tonight to be over before it had begun.
“Okay. We’re even now,” I said. “Let’s start again. What about hobbies?”
We ordered food when the waitress returned, but it was one of those situations where I couldn’t wait to hand the menu back and return to my conversation with Sutton.
“Let me think what I can say . . .” Sutton said, picking up where we left off. “I like to shower, travel on public transport . . .” She winced like she was really thinking hard. I tried to stifle a laugh. To anyone outside of medicine, she might have come across as boring, but I knew that stage she was at—there really wasn’t anything other than work and study. “I’m exaggerating. When my anxiety is really bad, I like to go to libraries or art galleries. I’m not sure it would qualify as a hobby because I’m not there for the books or the art—it’s just calming. Or maybe my body is forced to calm down because nothing would be more embarrassing than an anxiety attack in a place so quiet.”