One Moment Please (Wait With Me #3)(2)

It took rooming with Kate in college to indulge in my first Oreo cookie, and I’ve cursed her ever since. I gained twenty pounds my freshman year, and for someone who’s only five feet four, that was not a good look for me.

After graduation, I found a balance with sugar and lost the extra pounds. Well…fifteen of them, at least. When I decided to quit my job in social work and go back to school for my master’s in psychology, French silk pie became my new bestie. Pie is much more mature than Oreos. Pie and beautifully constructed charcuterie boards. Those two items are my weakness now, and the direct reason my ass does that jiggling thing whenever I jog.

My fork pierces the graham cracker crust just as a lunch tray crashes onto my table. My eyes go wide. The owner of the obnoxious tray is the perpetually angry doctor who’s been ruining the mood in the cafeteria for months now. I mean…I’m pretty sure he’s a doctor. He always has a stethoscope around his neck and wears blue scrubs with a white lab coat. That’s very doctory, right? People jump when he barks, and that seems doctory too.

Regardless, this is the hot, seemingly always grumpy doctor who glares at me from across the cafeteria. I noticed him right away when I found my little writing haven because there’s no way not to notice a gorgeous asshole like him. A cross between Chris Hemsworth and Gerard Butler—and I’m pretty sure he has the body to back up that comparison. He really should have his own Instagram page, if he doesn’t already, because I’d follow the shit out of that!

He’s the type of guy who rarely ever smiles. At first, I figured that might be judgy of me because he probably just has a lot on his mind. Hell, for all I know, he could have a terminally ill patient or be in search of the cure for a flesh-eating virus that the rest of the world doesn’t even know about. I wanted to cut the guy some slack for his decidedly surly attitude toward the world because well…he’s hot! Hot guys get hall passes—they don’t teach that in grad school, but they should.

But then, his anger seemed directed toward me. I swore he’d scan the entire cafeteria, and when our eyes would connect, his resting dick face would morph into a murderous glower. It’s freaky! I kept waiting for him to approach, thinking maybe this is some kind of kinky foreplay, but he always just watched me from a distance like a tiger stalking his prey. It’s unnerving.

And hell, I have to admit…kinda hot! My Womanizer Pro40 got some good use out of those eye-fucking sessions.

Angry hot-scrubs lowers his giant frame onto the seat across from me, all the while scowling at the food on his tray. A sad sub sandwich wrapped tightly in plastic props up a bruised apple. Even his water bottle lacks condensation…must be warm.

Poor dickish yet delicious doctor with sad food.

With a huff, he tears off the wrapping and rips open a packet of Miracle Whip.

My nose wrinkles.

What kind of animal prefers Miracle Whip over mayonnaise?

I hesitantly let go of where my fork sticks erect from my pie and rub my sweaty palms over my denim-clad thighs as he artfully spreads Miracle Whip over his sub and then slathers on mustard. I can’t pull my gaze from the spectacle because first of all, he’s two feet from me, and secondly, this is the first time I’ve been this close to him, and I need to take in the view.

His demeanor is more intimidating at this proximity for sure. He almost vibrates agitation. I wonder if the faint lines around his eyes mean he’s older than me? Makes sense, if he’s a doctor. I’m twenty-seven, so he’s maybe pushing thirty-five, which makes him all the hotter because I’ve always had a thing for older men.

However, based on his body language, I probably shouldn’t get my hopes up that this is some sort of adorable hospital cafeteria meet cute. He wears the expression of a shark who smells blood.

I swallow around the lump in my throat. What would Kate do in this situation? Maybe bait the shark?

“Hello there.” My stupid voice cracks like a thirteen-year-old boy. I clear my throat and try again. “I mean, hi.”

A grunt vibrates from the doc’s chest as he brings his sandwich to his mouth and takes an aggressive bite before finally lifting his attention to me.

His gaze connects with mine, and his smoldering deep greenish-brown eyes overwhelm me. Framed by long, dark lashes, they seem at odds with his creamy skin and sandy brown hair. His square jawline is peppered with light brown whiskers, and his lips are full but not big. Just…perfect—even if they’re stuck in a surly scowl.

Breathe normally. Just take in a slow breath and let it out at half speed.

Frankly, his whole presence overpowers me. It’s like sitting front row at an action movie and not being able to take in the entire cinematic glory because it all hits you too fast.

The hot doctor stares at me as he chews his food, and it’s…really weird. I avert my gaze to my pie and yank up the fork only to drag the prongs through the whipped topping. I need something to focus on besides watching him chew.

“How’s your day going?” I try again, my nerves skittering sideways.

His eyes have moved from me to my pie.

He takes another bite and grunts again.

Is he mute? Or is he just so polite that he refuses to talk with food in his mouth?

I lick the whipped cream off my fork and prop my elbows on the table with a bit more determination this time. “My name is Lynsey…what’s yours?”