Not a Role Model (Battle Crows MC 4)
God, why did she have to do it for me?
“I’m here to ask your roommate on a date,” I said, not thinking about my words before I’d said them.
The roommate blushed profusely, looking down at her shoeless feet that were sinking into the grass.
Coreline looked from me to her roommate and back. “Don’t do it, Ethel.”
“Ethel?” I asked curiously.
“Ethel,” Ethel confirmed. “My mom was a fan of Ray Stevens. Have you ever heard of the song ‘The Streak?’”
I grinned wide. “Don’t look, Ethel!”
Ethel blushed all over again.
“Seriously, Ethel.” Coreline looked imploringly at her friend. “If you do what I think you’re thinking about doing, then I’ll have to move. And disown you. I just can’t.”
Amusement sparked a curl of my lips, even though anger would’ve been there for anyone else had they butted in to my asking out of a friend. But Coreline was different. She’d always been different.
And I just couldn’t figure out why.
“Umm.” Ethel hesitated. “Well…”
“Think about it,” I offered as I straddled my bike. “Go back home, buddy.”
“Ricky Bobby, heel,” Coreline said softly.
The dog left me so fast that I blinked in surprise.
“Good training,” I mused.
“He’s a smart dog,” Ethel agreed as Coreline turned her back on both of us and walked back inside.
That’s when I saw the pants she was wearing.
From the front, they looked cute, but they’d just been a solid neon green.
Sure, they’d accentuated her figure well—if there was one thing Coreline had, it was a figure. She worked her ass off to be in shape, always running and playing sports in high school. I never knew a time when the girl’s legs didn’t look toned.
But the pants from the back?
They were indecent.
At the top of her ass crack, there was this little part that looked like the fabric bunched together, causing the globes of her ass to look bigger.
My god.
I shifted my hard-on before I’d thought better of it and saw out of the corner of my eye Ethel pick the move up.
I didn’t look at her, allowing her to think what she would.
And didn’t once think about her on the way to the hospital.
Which was a fuckin’ lie.
I thought about her and her ass for so long that I didn’t even remember my drive.
I didn’t remember taking turns. Following traffic laws.
All I remembered was thinking about how her ass would fit so well on the back of my bike, and not how I got where I was going.
Heading into the ER, then farther to the elevators that would lead me to the med-surg floor where my office was, I tried to clear my brain.
Today, I had two surgeries scheduled that I knew of back to back. One was a general appendectomy that’d come in last night, and one was a semi-emergent case of a blood clot that needed to be excised but was stable.
My morning was full as of right now.
“Hey, Dr. Crow.” A smiling nurse waved.
I didn’t know her name, but it was rare that I recognized a face anymore.
Three years ago, I’d been in a car accident that’d caused my head to hit the steering wheel.
Since that time, I’d recovered. All but one very important aspect of my life. The ability to recognize a face. At least, new faces, anyway.
Every face that’d been in my life up to the day of my accident, I could recognize. But any face that happened to come into my life after it? I didn’t recognize.
Now, I had a giant hurdle that I had to climb over almost every day, and with time, I’d actually been able to negate some of the effects of not being able to recognize a face.
Such as, now I was able to distinguish voices.
Like the doctor that met me at the elevator.
Without looking, and only hearing his voice, I knew that the man was a fellow doctor.
“I’m out,” he said exhaustedly. “I can’t believe I had to come in on my night off.”
I grinned. “Sucks to suck, Dr. Bones.”
Dr. Tommy grimaced. “You’re not funny.”
I shrugged. “It is what it is. I had to come in last week. It’s only fair that you come in this week.”
He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like ‘asshole.’
“How’s your daughter doing in gymnastics?” I asked curiously.
His daughter, Tallulah, was so good that she was on the way to the Olympics.
I wouldn’t be surprised to see her in next year’s events, as a matter of fact.
“So good,” he admitted. “She was really mad that we missed last week’s competition because she was sick. But rules are rules.”
Rules were rules.
“Have a good one, man,” I said as the elevator pinged and I got off. “Let me know how her next competition goes.”
Tommy jerked his head up in a tired nod of agreement, then the doors closed on his face.
Still, a face I didn’t recognize.