Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
I spent the rest of the day working, writing, and singing.
All about Kayla.
8 KAYLA
“What in the hell was I thinking? I can’t host a rock star for dinner at my house; this is ridiculous.” I shook my head as I stood in front of my closet, freaking out.
“You were being bold,” Rob assured me, smiling through the mirrored sliding closet door.
“No!” I turned and shook my head. “This is something you would do, not me. I’m not bold or brave—at least not outside the ER.” And Mac was a lot. He was too much. Too masculine. Too nice. Too hot. Too sweet and too damn thoughtful. “Why did I do this?”
“Because you like him. That was clear the night at the pub. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, Kay.” Her smile was wistful. “For the record, I’ve dated actors, a maestro, and too many models, but never a rock star and never anyone who looked at me like that.” She shivered. “Give this a chance.”
I glared at her and yanked out a pair of black leggings and a sweater that covered my generous backside. “This seems like a bad idea.”
Rob’s eyes glittered with amusement. “But a fun one. Nix and Torey both agree that you should approach this with a positive attitude. He’s hot, charming, and he likes you; let that be enough for now.”
“And what happens if I develop feelings?”
She shrugged. “If you need an emergency ex-fil,exit, call me.”
My brows shot up. “Ex-fil?”
“Been watching a lot of military dramas.” She rolled her eyes. “The point is, no matter what happens, you have us to help you through it. Unless you’d rather regret being a scaredy cat?”
“No.” I shook my head. “No more scaredy cat. I’m done with that. Mostly. At least circumstantially.” Having fun with Mac was an easy way to be brave compared to jumping out of airplanes, anyway.
“Exactly. Go with the red flats; they’re sexy without trying too hard.”
“Thanks.” I shouldn’t be this nervous. Mac and I were friends—sort of. “Okay. I can do this. I have to, because he’ll be here soon, and I need to get the potatoes boiling.”
“Mashed potatoes, the way to a man’s heart.” She wiggled her brows and followed me down the hall to the front door. “Good luck. Call if you need me.”
“Will do, and thanks for coming over to talk me off the ledge.” I wrapped Rob in a tight hug and closed my eyes. “I’m glad you’re back home. I missed you.”
“Missed you too. Call me after, or in the morning.” With those final words, I was left alone with my thoughts.
And my nerves.
I cracked open the bottle of bourbon I bought at the grocery store after leaving Mac’s place and dropped two ice cubes into a glass, using the brown liquid to calm my nerves.
“Okay. Better.” My limbs slowly relaxed as I chopped the potatoes and put them into a big pot of water while the chicken and mushrooms went into the oven. It was a simple meal, but it was something I did well.
I jumped when the doorbell rang, then laughed at myself. I finished the last sip in my glass and answered the door with a smile. “Mac.” My voice came out low and breathy, which felt ridiculous since I’d gone running with him in nothing but a pair of thin shorts. But seeing him in a plain white t-shirt and thigh-hugging jeans sent my libido into overdrive. “Hey. Come on in.”
His gaze raked over me, and a slow smile appeared. “Lookin’ good, Kayla.”
“Thanks.” I felt myself blush and turned away, causing Mac to laugh.
“Damn, it smells amazing in here. You actually cooked?”
“Yeah, Mac, I cooked. That’s what happens when you invite someone over for dinner.”
He blinked, surprised. “I’m shocked.”
“Our lives really are different.”
“Maybe. I brought whiskey. Jameson, aged eighteen years.”
“Fancy,” I teased. “Very different lives.”
“Maybe,” he agreed, following me into the kitchen. “But I like our differences. Need some help?”
“Nope. We have some time before dinner is ready, but there’s cheese, fruit, and booze.”
“Ice?”
“In the freezer, but you know Mac, it’s just beer we’ll be drinking, not whiskey.”
“Or bourbon,” he said, noticing the bottle I bought. “Great minds think alike. And it’s St. Patrick’s Day; it would be blasphemous to drink anything other than Irish whiskey.” He poured two generous glugs into each glass, topping them off with two ice cubes. “So, Kayla, why did you choose emergency medicine?” He handed me the glass, and I accepted it easily, ignoring the way electricity zapped my fingertips when we touched.
“Oh,” I stammered at the unexpected question. “Because it’s the most immediate impact on saving a life, and every day is different. It keeps my mind sharp, and I’m always learning something new.”
“So you’re into learning and instant gratification?”
Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t anywhere on the list. “Learning, yes. I can see how you gleaned that from what I said. So, yeah, I guess I’m into instant gratification.” Even saying the words made my cheeks flush furiously. “I haven’t had enough to drink for this conversation.”