She shoved against me until I had to let go. “I need some space, Brett. I think I should sleep at home tonight. I can’t stay with you. I can’t be near you.”
“Because of the contract or because you know I’m right? You’re going to be my wife.”
“No. I don’t know. Because of all of it.”
“All right. I’ll drive you home. But I want to see you tomorrow.”
“That’s going to be difficult. I have a twelve-hour shift tomorrow and the next three days. I work then go home and collapse. Sometimes I stay at the hospital and sleep.”
“I’ll wait.”
“You will?” She searched my eyes.
“Whether you’re at the hospital, or I’m on a mission we’re always going to find our way back to each other. This is forever, Gretchen. I can wait a few days.”
“I don’t know if that’s going to be enough.”
It wasn’t the time to tell her our timetable was limited. I would give her what she needed now. Maybe it would bring her back to me faster.
“Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Eighteen
Gretchen
I filled a Styrofoam cup. I sat on the bench in the doctors’ lounge. It had been three days since Brett had dropped me off on my front porch.
Life had flipped upside down. The only thing that made me feel grounded was work. I examined patients, prescribed medications, and slept. I extended my shifts, not wanting to go home. I didn’t know if I was worried he would be at the house waiting, or if I would be crushed if he wasn’t.
The crazy sex humming that had coated my body had finally evaporated. It was easier to think without feeling like I was always on the verge of spiraling into another orgasm, but my craving for Brett hadn’t stopped.
I missed him.
I wanted to know where he was. I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to feel his lips on mine. I wanted his hands on my hips. I tipped the coffee to my lips and spit it back in the cup. It tasted strange and the smell made my stomach turn. I tossed it in the trash.
None of it made sense. How could someone I just met have this effect on me?
I walked to the nurses’ station and pulled a clipboard from the top stack.
“You have a patient in room one,” Darla called over the counter.
“What’s that smirk for?” I asked.
“Let’s just say I’d like to take his vitals.” She winked.
“Oh, good grief.” I pulled my hair on top of my head, before charging into the room. The chart was practically blank. The patient was listed as John Doe. The injury was a six-inch laceration to the arm.
“Ok, Mr. Doe, I’m Dr. Forrest. Let’s take a look at your arm.” I closed the door behind me and looked at the man in the bed.
“Hi, doc.” Brett smiled.
I stopped at the end of the examination table. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “I had an injury, and I only want the best doctor looking at my arm.”
I pursed my lips together. “I thought you said you were going to give me some space.”
“I did. I am. But I needed to see you. It’s been three days, doc. Plus, I have an injury”