Bliss Series Boxed Set: The Whole Damn Harem (97 page)

Then just as we were getting to know each other, I got a text from Nikki asking what I was up to and whether I wanted company, acting as if nothing had changed between us.

My reply was short and to the point because honestly, there was no need to say anything more than “I’m out on a date. I’m moving on and you should do the same.”

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment the night turned to shit. There was the overtly forward waitress who blatantly ignored Zoe, then my college buddy Greg came up and started talking to me. But what sealed the deal was when an ex one-night stand sat behind us. By that stage I think Zoe had simply had enough.

She gave some excuse about having a busy day on Sunday and how she should get home, refusing to let me drive her there, and gave me a seemingly innocent goodbye kiss on my cheek, which signified a hell of a lot more to me than it probably meant to her.

Now I’m even more determined to take her out again. Having her body leaning into mine as she said goodbye simply made me even more resolute in my desire to kiss her again. To feel what she felt the first time we kissed. The one I still can’t fucking remember.

After rounds on Monday morning, I make it my mission to hunt her down and apologize
again.
It doesn’t take long to find her in a small office finishing off an MRI.

“Coffee?” I ask, as I watch her previously lax body tense up.

With wide eyes, she turns her head toward me. “Hey . . . you bought me coffee?”

I walk toward her, putting the takeaway coffee cup on the desk beside her. “Well since the culinary apology didn’t eventuate, I thought I’d try its caffeine equivalent.”

She scoffs but I note with interest how she grabs the cup and takes a long sip of the latte I bought her. “You’re just missing a splash of Hazelnut creamer and you’d be in the clear.” she teases.

“I’ll make sure I remember that next time.” I’m struggling to gauge her mood, let alone her demeanor toward me. I fucked up Saturday night but I want to make it right. She’s plagued my thoughts all weekend and it’s time I did something about it.

Just as I’m about to state my case, Greta walks in.

“Dr. Taylor, what a pleasant surprise to see you here with Zoe . . . without a patient . . . or records . . . Is there something I can help you with?”

“Ah Greta, you’re like a little ray of sunshine whenever I see you. I was just bringing a coffee to my
friend
Zoe but now I’ll be on my way. Have a good day.” I look over her shoulder to Zoe and wink at her, earning a not very well hidden snort and a huge smile, her eyes warm and full of amusement.

Mission accomplished.

Then my pager went off and my day got hell busy.

I’m now in my last year of my surgical residency, working toward passing my boards. Once I accomplish that feat, I’ll be on the home stretch. Then I’ll need to start applying for trauma surgery fellowships around the country. My first pick is definitely going to be Chicago though, because it’s home.

Tuesday morning, I catch Zoe in the lobby as I’m heading home. Despite being bleary-eyed and totally wiped out from my shift, I don’t have it in me to let the opportunity pass to talk to her.

“Hey.”

“Oh hey.” She looks up from her phone with a frown that turns into a friendly smile. She sees me. “Wow, you look exhausted.”

“You trying to say I look like shit?”

“I . . . ah . . .” she stutters, making me grin.

I put my hand on her forearm. “I was joking, Zo. I’ve been here for twenty-four hours—I probably don’t look that shit-hot.”

“It’s not that bad,” she says with a grin.

“You’re a great liar. Bet you know that already.”

She looks at me with a weird rather out-of-place expression, but quickly recovers. “You need your beauty sleep, Dr. Taylor.”

“Some of us aren’t lucky enough to be as gorgeous as you are.”

“Smooth, Noah. Very smooth.”

“I only speak the truth.”

“I bet.” She looks down at her phone. “Shit, I better get going, otherwise I’ll miss my train.”

“You want a lift?”

She looks at me and her eyes soften. “I’m fine. But thanks for the offer.”

“Anytime, Zoe,” I murmur as she rushes ahead of me, my line of sight dropping straight down to its new favorite attraction. “And stop watching my ass, Dr. Taylor,” she yells over her shoulder, snapping me out of my continuing visual appreciation.

“Never.” Ten hours later, I was at the hospital again.

And this scenario repeated itself for the rest of the week, but thankfully it was a mix of twelve to sixteen hour shifts. Lots of OR time too, so I was kept busy and out of trouble – the good kind that would see me finding excuses to visit radiology.

Unfortunately this meant I was also kept away from Zoe, and I knew this would make it even harder to get past that wall of hers. Any downtime I got, I would think about her—her ass, but mostly her as a person. The few times I did try to get down to radiology to see her, I got paged back to the ER for a consult or into the OR.

Friday night and I have twenty-four hours off, so I arrange to meet Daniel at 42
^nd
Street Bar. I decided it was worth asking the Master of Miracles himself for advice, because when it comes down to it, he achieved the impossible by taming the untamable in Mac, and not only getting her to settle down but also get married.

It’s not that I want the picket fence and the two-point-five kids in the ‘burbs next week. I’ve already got the house in the ‘burbs. It was the first thing I did when my trust fund from my rather wealthy grandparents was handed over to me the day I turned twenty-one.

I’m not close to confirming whether Zoe is the woman of my dreams—well she has been lately but that’s a whole other story—but she is the first woman in a long time who has me wanting to rise to the challenge.

“I got you a beer. I figured after a long week you probably needed it.” Daniel hands me a bottle of Millers as I sit down in a booth across from him.

“Cheers, brother,” I say as I hold up my bottle to tap against his.

“Zander might come down later. He wanted to go to the gym first.”
Shit

“What’s that look for?” Daniel asks with a puzzled frown.

I try a quick recover. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit. Spill or I’ll ring the girls and they’ll nag you until you give in.”

“I went out with Zoe last week.”

Daniel chokes on his mouthful of beer but recovers quickly. “Come again?”

“I asked her out on a date and we went out last weekend.”

“So you took her out to apologize?”

“Yeah, that too.” I take another swig of my beer. “But it was also supposed to be a date.”

“What about Nikki?”

“What about her?” I narrow my eyes at him, wondering where the hell he’s going with this.

“You still seeing her?” He tilts his head and raises one eyebrow. “Fuck no,” I spit out. “That’s over. I ended it the morning after I threw myself at someone else.”

“And threw up all over Nikki's expensive shoes. Mac thought that was hilarious. I would've laughed my ass off if I wasn't so pissed off at you.”

“She was seeing red way before that. She watched you marry Mac.”

“It was her choice—well
yours
if you want to get technical about it,” he states.

“It’s old news now.”

His expression turns serious. “You can’t play Zoe, man.”

My head jerks back. “I’m not planning on playing anybody. I’m single. She’s single. Game on.”

He shakes his head, his smile disappearing just as quick. “You don’t go after sisters. You know that. And if you thought you had a sore mouth after the wedding, I can imagine Zander doing much,
much
worse to you if you actually pursue something with Zoe.”

I shudder. “I’m not even gonna think about how that would go down.”

“So how did Zander take it?”

“Huh?” How did who take what where how?

“Zander . . .” he says, urging me on.

“Since I’m sitting here enjoying a beer and not breathing through a tube, I’m guessing he still doesn’t know.”

“You’re fucked.”

“Yep. He still hasn’t returned my call so I can apologize for the wedding. But that’s not what I need help with.”

He looks at me and narrows his eyes. “I’m not about to help you do something that will get your ass handed to you on a plate by Zander.”

“You’re the reluctant woman charmer, and the holder of all the secrets to winning the challenge of the unattainable female. Zoe is a lot like Mac in a way.”

“That fact is something that hasn’t escaped me. She’s running away from something, and if the gossip train between Mac and Kate is up to date, she seems a bit distracted at the moment. Maybe by a certain ass of a surgical resident she knows?”

Now
this
is getting interesting. I never thought there would be benefits to being best friends with the leader of the pack’s husband.

“And what else, pray tell, have you heard through the grapevine?”

“I’m sorry, are we suddenly going to start comparing periods and doing each other’s hair? ’Cause I thought we were just having a beer. I left my dress at home.”

“Shut the fuck up, smartass. I need at least something to tell me that she’s interested, because I thought she was, and then it was one fuck up after another during our date. And before I could talk to her properly, she took off early.”

“You can’t treat her like she’s another piece of ass.”

“Dan, you of all people know I’m not an asshole. I don’t go through women like water anymore. I flirt, and I may dabble here and there, but when I’m interested in someone I’m
interested
in them and only them. We’ve all got to grow up some time. ”

He scoffs in disbelief. “And you’re interested in Zoe?”

“She’s someone new, different. She’s fresh air after two years of toxic smoke.”

“Don’t do it, man. I think both of you should just be friends and be single for a while. God knows you need a break to clear your head. You told me you thought Nikki was serious about you?”

“I was pussy-whipped, and thinking with the wrong head.”

He bursts out laughing and holds his beer bottle up to mine to tap. “I could’ve told you that.”

“Some best friend you are,” I mumble, signaling the bartender for another round.

“Seriously, Noah. Just steer clear of Zoe. She’s got enough on her plate without having to worry about you.”

“I’m a catch. Any woman would love to have me.”

“Keep believing that, Taylor and get me a beer while you’re at it.”

“Light Me Up”

Zoe

Needing to clear my head, I wake up early Saturday morning and decide that a long run is in order.

Noah has been conspicuously absent this week. As embarrassing as it is to admit, I found myself looking out for him, part of me wishing he’d corner me in a consult room again or sweep me into a supply closet. Okay, that last one was definitely wishful thinking—it was good fodder for my sex dreams this week though.

I’m resolute on my decision to forge a friendship with him. Friends and
just
friends. That disaster of a date last weekend just reiterated the need to keep my defenses up and my pants on when it comes to Dr. Taylor.

And that’s the mantra I find myself having to repeat when I see the man jogging toward me in running shorts and a loose tank top that shows
everything
that I’d want to see and more. He looks as if he’s been at it for a while, judging by the sweat already dripping from his head and the sheen covering his arms. He’s hot and hard in all the right places – well appropriate places for a public party anyway.

Noah and hard, two words that I should
not
be thinking about right now. And yep, my eyes drift down to his hips then quickly snap back up again.

Friends. Just. Friends.

How does a woman manage to stay
just friends
with the man who represents the physical embodiment of dirty sex all wrapped up in the perfect package?

That man does things to me in my head that would be illegal in some states. James Deen eat your heart out, the Noah Taylor in my mind is insatiable. The word voracious comes to mind. Dream Noah is ravenous
and
creative—so damn creative it makes my subconscious self’s head spin, my heart race, and my lady parts quiver.

He smiles when he recognizes me and does a quick U-turn maneuver to join my side. We both slow our pace. “You run?”

“No, I’m practicing my escape from the zoo.”

He throws his head back and lets out a deep laugh. A spine-tinglingly great laugh, making me want to say funny shit over and over again.

He matches his pace to mine as he runs beside me. “I didn’t know you liked to run.”

“It clears my head,” I reply with a shrug. “It also helps maintain my ass, since I eat
way
too much chocolate in my spare time.”

“I must say I do appreciate your dedication to your ass-ets.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “That was actually quite good, Dr. Taylor.”

“I do try,” he muses. “So chocolate, huh? I had wondered what your vices might be.”

“What are yours?” I blurt out. Seems I just can’t help myself asking questions I might not like the answer to, or might like too much. Still on the fence about that one.

“We’re swapping personal secrets now?”

I look beside me to see his head turned toward me, both of us looking at each other while running forward, and all I can think is
I bet I fall over first
.

“If you’re game, I am. Quid pro quo.”

He shoots a wolfish grin my way and I start to think this might not be the best idea I’ve ever had. I repeat my mantra in my head.
Friends, just friends
.
Friends, just friends.

“Okay. My vices, if I’m being honest, would be beer, football, a good back massage, and hot, sweaty sex, in no particular order.”

My step falters and I have to concentrate on staying upright the moment I hear the words come out of his mouth. “You totally went there.”