Hotshot Doc(74)

“Ages,” I confirm.

She nods and leans forward so her head hovers between Bailey and me.

“Well, Bailey here hasn’t had a serious boyfriend ever. Have you told him that, sis? Seems like something a guy would want to know before he commits.”

Bailey reaches to unlock the car, presumably so she can leap to her death on the highway, but I’m too fast at re-engaging the lock.

“As a matter of fact, Josie”—I grin—“she hasn’t.”

Josie nods. “Yeah, I mean if I were her age and had only ever dated—how many guys is it, Bailey? Two?”

“THREE,” she corrects, crossing her arms and staring out the window. “And I’m no longer participating in this conversation.”

“Right, I mean three’s not that many. Hell, I kissed three boys in kindergarten alone.”

I have to fight down a surge of laughter.

It continues like that the whole way to their house. Josie’s got the innocent act down pat, but I’m confident she knows exactly how to torment her sister. It reminds me a lot of how Cooper and I act when we’re together.

After a few detours because of heavy snow, I eventually make it to their house and pull into the driveway.

“Want to come inside for some hot cocoa?” Josie asks excitedly.

I glance to Bailey, wondering what she wants me to do, and to my relief, she smiles and shrugs.

“I was going to suggest the same thing, but she beat me to the punch.”

When we get out and walk up the path, Bailey takes my hand before I can take hers. We’ve done so much hand-holding tonight I should be sick of it, but I’m not. I can’t remember the last time I just wanted to hold on to someone like this. It feels silly, and yet I can’t stop doing it.

We kick off our shoes in the foyer and Bailey turns to her sister.

“Josie, why don’t you go make the hot cocoa? I’m going to talk to Matt for a second.”

“Okay! I’ll pick a movie too!”

Bailey smiles weakly as her sister skips into the kitchen. “Sorry, you probably didn’t think you’d be hanging out with a teenage girl tonight.”

“I happen to think she’s funny.”

Bailey rolls her eyes. “Well, whatever you do, don’t tell her that. Now c’mon, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

If possible, their house has even more holiday decorations inside of it than it did the last time I was here. The Christmas tree we walk past is covered with so much tinsel it’s in danger of tipping over. There are a few gifts under the tree—not nearly as many as I had growing up. I narrow my eyes, trying to see if any of them are addressed to Bailey, but she tugs me along before I can get a good look.

“The carpet is old and stained. Ignore it. It’s from the 80s, and we only made it worse when we fostered a dog for like three weeks last year. It didn’t take long for me to realize I couldn’t handle raising Josie and a puppy who wasn’t housetrained. I mean, Josie barely is,” she quips with a smile.

If she thinks I’m looking at her carpet, she’s insane.

“Now this,” she says, patting the wall with a teasing glimmer in her eyes. “This here is grade-A wood paneling.”

“Fancy,” I say with a smile.

“You can’t just get this type of high-end finish in any ol’ house.”

I laugh and step toward her so I can wrap my hands around her waist and match her step for step as she continues walking backward to her room. “What about the 70s-style wallpaper in the bathroom up ahead?” I ask, nudging my chin toward it.

She pats my chest teasingly. “The pinkest, most ugly thing you’ve ever seen.”

We arrive at a door beside the bathroom and she reaches behind her to turn the handle, her eyes staring up at me while she does it. “Are you ready to see the main attraction?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

I grin and push us forward until her door opens wide and I’m standing on the threshold of Bailey’s bedroom.

The first thing I notice is the twin bed. I have to stifle a groan. Really? A twin? I haven’t had sex on a twin bed since my freshman year of college—not that we’re about to have sex. Yet.

She follows my gaze and bites her lip. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to upgrade. Also, not to further disappoint, but it’s hard as a rock.”

I nod and drop my hands as I move past her, anxious to uncover the secrets of Bailey Jennings.

In lieu of a nightstand, she’s stacked pre-med textbooks beside her bed so she can rest a glass of water and what looks to be a half-finished copy of When Breath Becomes Air—a book I read the day it released—on top.

“You’re judging,” Bailey accuses, crossing her arms by the door.

I step farther inside and turn in a slow circle. “I’m not. Really.” I glance at her with a smirk. “It’s only fair. You got to snoop around my room when I was passed out drunk. Now I should get to do the same.”

She chuckles and shakes her head. “Actually, I didn’t. I was too scared of what I would find in your bedside table.”

“There isn’t anything too terribly shocking. A pack of condoms.” I shrug nonchalantly. “Some ball gags.”

She chokes out a laugh, and then her eyes widen and she jerks her head out into the hallway.