But I couldn’t stop myself .
“Dr. Ashworth, the patient is prepped.” One of the nurses spoke to me through the speaker system .
I hit the button with my elbow. “I’m headed in .”
I pictured Wes one more time, then pulled down the shade, dividing him from the rest of my thoughts. When I was in the OR, I had to be the one in control. Not him. He could have that privilege in bed. Not here. Not at work .
* * *
I tossed my keys on the counter and heated up a bowl of soup for dinner. I should have brought some of the leftover Chinese food from Wes’s, but I was in a hurry this morning to make it to work on time .
I ate quickly, then walked to the shower, steeping myself in steam and heat. The first surgery hadn’t gone smoothly, and the ligament repair took an hour longer than I thought it would. After that, I had a surgery canceled because a patient refused to come to the hospital, and my third surgery of the day ended up being assisted by the head of my department, so I basically sat back and watched him do everything .
I was tired and annoyed, but the hot water felt good. I dried off with a towel and ran when I heard my phone buzz .
“Hello?”
“Hey, Doc .”
I immediately blushed. “Hey .”
“Are you going to watch the game tonight?” he asked .
“I hadn’t really thought about it .”
“Are you telling me I haven’t converted you to a football fan yet ?”
“No, I’m not saying that.” I giggled. He sure had one convincing way to make a woman want to know everything about the sport .
“Okay, I’ve got to go, but it starts in twenty minutes. I’ll be on the sideline, of course .”
“You better be.” I knew I sounded stern. “Oh wait, before you go. Good news, Dr. Evans said he’ll take you on. You’re no longer my patient.” I held my breath, waiting for what Wes would say. Did things change today? Did it still matter to him ?
“That’s the best fucking news I’ve heard .”
“Then, this is still…” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. We hadn’t put a label on it. There wasn’t a definition for what we had started together. It was new .
“Yes, this is still.” He laughed. “Baby, I’ll call you later. I’ve got to walk out with the team .”
“Good luck. I hope you guys win .”
“Thanks.” He hung up and I hugged the phone to my chest. So this must be what cheerleaders in high school felt like when they pulled for their boyfriends on the field. I was always the one at the library, never at the game. But somehow, I had turned into that girl. The one who was going to watch her man at the football game, even if he was on the sideline tonight .
I poured a glass of wine and turned on the TV. Other than yesterday, this was the first time I was making it a point to watch an AFA game. It was weird. I felt kind of nervous, even though he wasn’t playing. I felt the butterflies lift off when I saw the camera pan to him on the sideline. Damn it. He wasn’t wearing his sling. What the hell? I knew I wasn’t his doctor anymore, but I explicitly explained he had to wear it at all times if he wanted to heal those bones .
I was startled when I saw a beautiful brunette sidle up to him and shove a microphone in his face. She looked like a super model .
“I’m talking with Wes Blakefield, Wranglers star quarterback. Wes, we’ve heard some things about your hand. Can you clear up the rumors that you won’t be playing in the play off games ?”
He flashed a gorgeous smile at her and I felt a pit of anger. Was he flirting with the sports reporter ?
“Hey, Becky .”
She smiled. “What do you want to tell Wranglers fans ?”
“As you can see, no cast, no sling. I’m just taking an extra week for precautionary measures. Wranglers fans don’t need to worry.” He rubbed the side of his sculpted jaw. “Easy sprain to recover from, and I have the best doctor looking after me .”
I eyed him through my TV screen. Easy sprain my ass—I had kicked butt on his surgery. There was nothing easy about putting someone’s hand back together .