The Temporary Roomie (It Happened in Nashville 2)

. I wonder if maybe I could let myself enjoy this night as his pretend girlfriend…if I could let myself fall for Drew.

No.

I don’t want to.

Drew Marshall is about to be pranked harder than he’s ever been pranked in his life.

We are seated at the table, waiting for dinner to be served, and Jessie is fondling my ear. Not in a sensual way—although it probably looks like it’s intended to be—but it feels more like an annoying gnat pestering my face. My hands itch to swat hers away. Everyone at the table is staring at us like they are deeply disturbed, and honestly, I don’t blame them.

I realize this is my fault though. Jessie thinks I don’t like PDA because of all the gagging I do around Lucy and Cooper, so naturally she’s going to climb all over me in public because of this unspoken tit-for-tat game we have going on between us. It’s like a human version of Battleship.

I smile tightly and twitch my shoulder, trying to push Jessie’s hand away without the whole table realizing what I’m doing. But it’s a big round table, and they are all staring. Now, I’m just shoulder-hugging her hand, which makes me look even more lovesick and disgusting. I take a more direct approach and cover her pesky little hand with mine then lower it down to her lap, holding it tightly there.

She squeezes my hand under the table. It says, LET GO. I squeeze back. NOT A CHANCE.

We both flash each other a soft, smitten smile so the table believes our once-in-a-lifetime romance, but under the table, our hands are warring. Goodness, she makes me want to laugh. And kiss her.

When I first spotted Jessie across the room tonight, my stomach dove into a free fall. She looked so classic and feminine and curvy and my heart was beating out of my chest for her. It hasn’t stopped since. I would have kissed her in the bathroom if that knock on the door hadn’t interrupted us. I wanted to more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Even now, I look over into Jessie’s forest eyes as they sparkle from the warm lighting, and I feel like groaning. I can hardly take it. I want to scoop her and her mischievous smile up and take her home.

The table continues to buzz with medical talk like it has been ever since we sat down, and I’m hoping once our dinner arrives, everyone will give the constant jargon a rest. That’s the major flaw of doctors all grouped together for social events: we can’t talk about anything besides medicine. It’s how we’re hardwired. So many years devoted to nothing but studying and learning and memorizing as much as possible will do that to a person. Back in school, when everyone else was partying and socializing, our noses were deep in a textbook. The most social contact we had was a study group, which is basically what this is now. An ultra-elegant study group.

I know Jessie has to be bored to death. Maybe if the conversation were more interesting, she’d be less determined to pinch her way out of my hand. Her fingers are like a little crab scurrying across the sand.

“Dr. Marshall, I’ve been meaning to ask you—what happened to your eye?” Susan says from across the table. Of course Susan would notice it. It’s more of a slight greenish-shadowy bruise now than it was a week ago when Jessie gave it to me. For some reason, I’ve loved this black eye. I love that Jessie gave it to me. I love that when I look in the mirror, I remember the sheen of terror in her green eyes when she thought she’d really hurt me. It was the first time she had ever looked at me without a mask of indifference or hatred.

Jessie lights up at this question. She gives an overindulgent smile, flashes her eyes wide in excitement, and props her elbow under her chin like someone’s just told her I’m about to jump on the table and give everyone a striptease.

Too bad for Jessie, if she plans to take me down, I’m dragging her with me.

I lean forward, a conspiring grin in place, and tilt my head toward her. “I try not to kiss and tell, but truth is, this one got a little overeager in the—” My sentence is cut off when Jessie’s foot collides with my shin and she shoots me a dark look.

“Kitchen,” she finishes for me, not breaking eye contact. “I opened a cabinet right into his face by accident.” Something in her gaze promises her statement will come to fruition if I continue, but it won’t be on accident.

Everyone hums their understanding, but it’s clear they don’t believe her. My seed was planted, and her face is turning into boiling lava. I feel triumphant. Smiling, I lean toward Jessie to…to what? I don’t know exactly. All I’m conscious of is my need to get closer to her. To run my finger over her blushing cheek. To kiss her. To hold her. Her narrowed eyes soften and her lips part slightly. We’re trapped in this moment together, and everything I’m feeling, she’s feeling too. If I could just lean a little—

A hand claps against my back. Of course. “Drew? Ah—I thought that might be you!”

I’m ready to murder whoever just interrupted this moment between us when I look up into the eyes of my old mentor of sorts from med school. Despite him being a teaching physician at the time, Richard was one of my first friends in the medical world, and he’s likely the only person who can escape my murderous intentions in this circumstance. Once I had decided to focus on obstetrics and gynecology, he was the one I went to with my concerns about being a young male in the profession, afraid I’d never get any patients. He laughed and told me he would only let me soak his shoulder with tears once I tried being a gay black man in the medical field, or a woman in the same profession having to work twice as hard to prove herself just as capable as a man. I liked him immediately. Dr. Green taught me the best thing I could ever do as a male OB-GYN was shut my mouth and listen to the women around me. I’m good at applying this principle in my practice, though not always so much in my personal life.

“Dr. Green, it’s good to see you,” I say, standing to shake his and Mr. Green’s hands. “And Henry,” I say, addressing Richard’s husband. “How are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you two since Dr. Green’s retirement party.” It’s when I look down at our clasped hands that I realize how red mine is thanks to my little pincher crab. I slide my gaze over to Jessie and see her sitting demurely, hands resting in her lap like a patient angel, but I know she’s seen the pinch marks because her lips are pressed together, holding back a fierce laugh.

If Henry notices the odd red splotches, he ignores them with grace. “I don’t feel like we see anyone since Richard retired.” He tosses him a reprimanding look. “I’ve been begging him to come out of retirement just so we can go places again. He compromised by letting us come tonight.”

Richard laughs and guides Henry around the table to take the two available seats closest to me and Jessie. He pulls a chair out for Henry, making me wonder belatedly if I did that for Jessie. Richard looks at Henry with narrowed eyes after they’ve taken their seats.

“And force you to miss me again during all of those long work days? Never.”

Henry looks to Jessie and me with extra wide eyes and a mocking smile. “So considerate of him.”

We all laugh, and then, trying to be discrete, I cut my eyes to Jessie, hoping she won’t look bored. Because for some reason, I want her to enjoy being here with me—meeting my colleagues and the people who were so integral in the early years of my career. When my eyes land on her, my heart jolts. Her head is tilted softly to the side, and her green eyes are sparkling with a genuine smile. She looks happy.

I don’t realize I have fully turned my face to openly stare at Jessie for goodness knows how long until Henry’s voice shocks me into reality.

“Drew, who is this beautiful young woman you’re so fondly gazing at?” he asks, a note of mischief in his eye, like he was excited to call me out in front of everyone.

Without a second thought, I raise my arm to lay it over the back of Jessie’s chair and run my thumb against the side of her shoulder. I notice her look down to where I’m tracing a lazy pattern against her skin, and I could swear her skin flushes. See, I can do affection.

Jessie looks up at me quickly, and her eyes search my face like she wants to see for herself the look Henry was ref