One Moment Please (Wait With Me #3)(9)

His large hand dwarfs mine. His warm palm and long fingers send an anxious shiver rolling through my body all the way to my toes. When my gaze returns to his face, he’s eyeing me from head to toe.

Maybe he doesn’t recognize me.

But the moment he opens his mouth, I realize I’m dead wrong.

“Have a lot of experience tasting a skunk’s ass I take it?” Josh’s deep voice rolls like thunder.

Dean and Max chuckle at the jerk’s attempt at a joke while I narrow my gaze up at him. “You taste one ass, you’ve tasted them all,” I snap.

Wait. What the fuck did I just say?

I blink rapidly, and stammer, “I mean, I didn’t say, not that I taste ass—”

“I understand,” Josh interrupts coolly, his face showing zero amusement. “You’re an expert ass-taster.”

“I’m not an expert ass-taster!” I sputter as my face heats with embarrassment. “That’s not even a thing.”

“Seems like, if it were a thing, you’d be exceptional at it.” Mirth dances in the hot doc’s eyes as he looms over me in all his intimidating, ridiculous-perfectly-proportioned glory.

Is he…flirting with me? I wonder briefly as I stare back at him and begrudgingly admit that he’s even more handsome out of scrubs.

Life is a cruel, cruel bitch today.

“Why the hell do you think I’d be exceptional at tasting ass?” I stand to gain some leverage. Sadly, even with my heels on, I’m still only eye level with his chest.

Stupid, giant, asshole doctor with really long, pretty fingers.

“Excuse me,” Max interjects as the jerk and I stare murderously at one another. “But do you two know each other?”

I grit my teeth. “You could say that.”

The doctor laughs. “After today, I know enough.”

“Good grief.” I lick my lips at how self-righteous he’s being after walking in here only sixty seconds ago. “Are you going to tell me I’m not allowed to sit in a public bar now too?”

He quirks a challenging brow. “It depends if you’re going to be a good girl or a bad girl.”

The way he stares into my eyes as he says bad girl sends that anxious shiver through me again. I swear I want to spank myself for being so weak in his presence.

Spank myself? What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I having a stroke?

I open my mouth to say something but decide to hold back because this guy doesn’t need to know he’s affecting me. That’s exactly what he wants. He wants me to make a scene and lose my cool again. Because I was totally cool before he came in here with all his unwanted hotness.

Crap. He’s still holding my hand.

Scowling, I try to yank it out of his grip. He tightens in response, and his eyes dance with mirth like the smug Dr. Dick he is.

I huff a noise and try extracting my hand again. He pulls me in close, and I stumble forward, my free hand landing on his left pec to stop myself from falling against his body. His chest is rock hard beneath his black suit jacket, and his pale blue button-down is open a button, revealing smooth and most likely muscled skin. His spicy aftershave hits my nostrils, and I’m unnerved as my legs tremble.

His eyes wander to my neckline, and without a word, he touches a strand of my hair while I hold my breath and await his next move.

I nearly melt into a puddle of swoony girlie goo until I realize that the dick has just plucked a kernel of popcorn out of my hair and dropped it on the bar floor with as much disdain as he would for finding a speck of dust on his pristine mantel at home.

His voice is teasing when he asks, “Hope you weren’t saving that for later.”

Finally, he releases me.

Max says, “Forgive my friend, Josh, here. I’m afraid he has a chronic case of dickholeitis. But thankfully, he’s a doctor, so he’s working on a cure.”

Dr. Dick, aka Josh, forces a smile but continues to stare at me as Dean moves in, turning his back to him so he can whisper, “Is this the guy from the cafeteria?”

I nod, jaw clenched as I glower at the aggravating human in question.

“We need to go,” I say crisply.

Before I make an even bigger fool out of myself than I already have. Why does this man have to ruin all my good feels today?

Dean exhales and seems to scramble for his words. “Fuck, I, um…”

Max’s voice interrupts Dean’s freak-out. “Well, Dean, it seems these two have some catching up to do. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink? I want to run some business ideas by you, and talking business is always more fun with whiskey.”

Max grabs Dean around the shoulders, leading him down the bar a few seats. Dean shoots me an apologetic look but manages to mouth, “I’m sorry!” before leaving me to fend for myself.

With a heavy sigh, I drop onto my stool to look for the bartender. I need that third drink more than I need to draw my next breath. Shockingly, Dr. Dick takes Dean’s empty stool.

“I thought I was going to have to do the Heimlich maneuver on you when we first arrived.” His voice is every bit as pompous and arrogant as it was at the cafeteria. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “Then I realized who you were and figured you were probably faking it.”

My teeth crack as I clench them and stare straight ahead. “You don’t even know me.”