Only Trick

I deflate, at least on the inside. My father has very few redeeming qualities, but he’s still my father. And Rachel … well she’s tolerable—barely. I didn’t expect Trick to do flips over the idea of dinner with them, but I also didn’t expect him to flat out refuse.

We both finish eating, the air void of conversation. Grabbing our plates I take them to the kitchen. “I need a shower. I have to go into work for rounds.”

He follows me up the stairs. “You’re mad.”

I keep walking. “I’m not.”

“Then look at me.”

Stopping at my bathroom door, I sigh before turning around. He stops a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I’ll go.”

“No.” I pivot and drop my robe to the floor then turn on the water to the shower. “You don’t want to go.”

“True, but I’ll go for you if that’s what you want.”

I step in the shower and roll my eyes. Of course that’s what I want, that’s why I asked, but now his initial decline has changed everything. Now I want him to want to go. Shit! I’ve never been this way with any other guy—a needy head case. “No. It’s too late. Now I don’t want you to go. I’ll take Nana because she enjoys my company.”

Shut up, Darby!

With every word I become more pathetic. Closing my eyes, I let the water wash away the puffy-chested ego that’s trying to cling to me. I still when Trick’s arms snake around my waist, pulling my back into his chest.

“Did you just disinvite me to dinner?”

I smile, closing my eyes briefly while releasing a sigh, then turn in his arms and look up at him with a half grin and a nod. Pressing my lips to his chest, I wrap my arms around his waist. “I want you to come … for me.”

He tilts my chin up with his finger. “I know and that’s why I’ll be there for you. Someone has to pick up the pieces when they disappoint you.”

I open my mouth to argue, but Trick stops me with his sexy lips. Just as well, my argument is feeble. He’s right. I’ll leave disappointed like I always do. When will I learn?

*

A storm of anxiety rips through my body leaving every last nerve frayed by the end of the day. Since the little dispute I had with Trick over dinner with my father and Rachel, the pressure for everything to go as smooth as possible weighs on me like a collapsed building.

“Big plans tonight?” Dr. Creepy Creighton asks as I finish signing my last chart.

“Dinner with family.”

“Sounds exciting,” he responds with an unusual interest in my plans.

“Yep, real exciting.” I slip my pen in my pocket and turn to go get changed.

“You have plans for the weekend?”

Making a slow turn, my eyes narrow at him. “Why?”

He slides his hands in his coat pockets. “I heard you and Ashby are no longer together, so I thought we could get dinner or drinks.”

Ew!

I feel invisible spiders creeping along my skin. Every cell in my body rejects even the thought of dinner with him. I was young and stupid, slept with a few too many guys during my rebel phase, but Dr. Creighton has slept with nearly every single female on the hospital’s payroll. He’s no longer young, now he’s just stupid. There is a difference. He’s the same coffee cup everyone’s been drinking out of for the past two years. I have to choke back the “hell no” and force out a much more polite version.

“I’m seeing someone.”

“Wow, that was quick.”

Really? The hospital whore is judging me?

“Not that it should matter, but Steven and I have been over for a while.”

He steps closer, eyes licking me like a salivating dog as he lowers his head. “Well if this new guy doesn’t work out … you know what they say about yours truly.”

I move my head to the side, brows pulled tight in a wrinkled-nose expression.

“Yes, to a night with me is epic. No, to a night with me is tragic.”

And people entrust their lives to this guy. I turn and walk away. “I can live with tragedy.” You disgusting piece of shit!

After a quick change, I text Trick with a minimum of five Emojis to let him know I’m on my way home and will pick him up in an hour. I’m a planner so I run through topics of conversation that will be acceptable during dinner tonight, and by the time I’m home I have nothing. Trick will be on trial tonight, and although my father hasn’t practiced law in years, his hard-core-cross-examination personality is still alive and ready to attack at a moment’s notice. Unfortunately, he’s had much longer than a moment’s notice to prepare for tonight.

Rummaging through my closet takes far too long. I’m already running twenty minutes late to pick up Nana.