Unfriending the Dr: A Small Town Friends to Lovers Romance

Ryan moaned.

I moaned and deepened the kiss, hoping like hell this wasn’t the end of us as a real us.

As more than friends.

More than lovers.

I held on to him for a long moment, kissing Ryan like he was the air I breathed, because in that moment I realized that I wanted this more than I let myself acknowledge. Wanted him more than I knew was possible.

Slowly, I pulled back. “You don’t have to trust him, Ryan. Trust me.” After a quick peck, I straightened my clothes and headed back to Jackson Ridge Medical Center.

Ryan

Setting up camp with a bunch of little boys was a loud, boisterous affair that reminded me of all the times my friends and I had come out to these same woods to hang out far from the prying eyes of parental supervision. Luckily each boy had an adult to help, and I had the best little boy.

“Should we set up the tent first?”

Titus nodded. “What should I do?”

I smiled at his easy acceptance of my authority. “I thought you were the camping expert?”

Titus grinned. “I’m a fishing expert,” he shot back with all the arrogance of a boy twice his age. At least. “Mom said you’re in charge.” He waved a hand at the pile that would eventually become our tent for the weekend.

“That makes me the tent expert, then. Let’s start with that blue piece.”

Titus grabbed the tarp and held it up with a frown. “What’s this?”

“This is the ground tarp so we don’t have to sleep right on the ground. And it’ll keep us dry if it starts to rain.”

“Did you go camping a lot as a kid, Ryan?”

I smiled. “Sort of, yeah. We used to come out here to hang out, and it rains a lot here in Oregon so tents were perfect.” The kid was far too young to understand the details so I left it at that. We got the tent fabric on top of the tarp easily. “Come on, grab those poles right there.”

“What are these for?”

“The poles are what give the tent its structure, otherwise we could just make one of your famous blanket forts.” Over the years we’d spent more nights than I could count, watching TV or playing video games under a fort that used every blanket in the house and took over the entire living room. I sighed, wondering if those days were numbered. If Titus’ dad got his way, I would be slowly but surely pushed out of his life. And Persephone’s.

“Blanket forts wouldn’t keep us warm out here, would they?”

“Nope. And the way the temperature can drop so dramatically, you want to make sure you can stay warm and dry.”

“So I don’t get sick, right?”

“Right.” I smiled at the smart little boy, watching him work one end of a pole into the tent. “Need some help?”

“I got it.” Titus was as stubborn as his mother, determined to do things on his own no matter how difficult.

“All right.” My heart raced as I watched, wondering if Ferguson had swooped in on this fortuitous weekend where he could have Persephone all to himself. No children or best friends attempting to cockblock his efforts. He was a man, even if he was an idiot and an asshole, and no man in his right mind would pass up a second chance with a woman like her. She was beautiful and smart and funny, strong and determined. Persephone was absolute perfection.

“Okay, I got it.” Titus stood back with his hands on his hips and a proud smile on his face.

“Perfect. Now it’s time to raise the tent. Ready?”

Titus nodded and we got busy getting the tent upright. It took more time than it should have because Titus was a little guy, but eventually we got the tent raised and the rain flap on. “Is that it?”

I nodded. “Congratulations, kiddo, you’ve put up your first tent.” I held a hand up and he gave it an energetic smack.

“Cool.”

“Time to fill our bellies?” My stomach rebelled at the idea of hot dogs and marshmallows but this was camping, and that was standard fare.

“Yes, please!”

We made our way to the campfire where we overate burnt hot dogs and melted marshmallows, and most of the kids ended up with aching stomachs because we were all men.

“How are you feeling, buddy?”

“I’m okay.”

I gave Titus a long look, looking for signs of a tummy ache that I’d become familiar with after last year’s Halloween debacle where I let him eat his bodyweight in trick or treat goodies. He wasn’t pale and didn’t look like he was about to puke. “Let’s go get some water.”

“Yes, please.” He followed me back to the cluster of tents that made up our campsite and drank half the bottle with ease. “Can we go fishing now?”

“It’s a little late in the day, but I’m game if you are.”