The room fell silent.

I wondered if it was a bad thing that the sight of my arousal made her head for the hills. Never had that happened before. If anything, jaws tended to drop, parades started, lots of moaning commenced, and in two instances, bras spontaneously fell to the floor.

The door jerked open. “Sorry!” Blake stumbled through. “I just wanted to make sure you stay in bed.”

“But—”

“In bed!” Nurse Ratched was back. She glared, her ice-blue eyes challenging me to argue further. I suddenly felt very, very mothered. Which was awkward, considering my dick hadn’t gotten the message yet. “Take the Tylenol I left for you, and I’ll stop by after practice with soup.”

“Food?” My ears perked up.

“Food.” Her eyes lowered briefly before she cleared her throat and pointed. “Shouldn’t you take care of . . . that?”

“This?” Shit, talking about my junk just made it worse—the strain, the ache, the embarrassment—as my body clearly reached for higher heights. “Wouldn’t a good nurse stay and help?”

She rolled her eyes. “You really are disgusting, you know that, right?” She was smiling, which led me to believe she was joking. Or . . . holy shit . . . was she flirting with me?

“I officially forbid you to hang out with Gabi anymore. What the hell has she said about me to give you such a low opinion?”

“What makes you think it’s Gabi?” she said with a shrug. “Also. You’re a whore.”

“I’d be willing to amend my ways if you’d scratch the itch, doc.”

“I’m leaving now.”

“Was it something I said?” I laughed at her horrified expression, then ducked when the ChapStick grazed my ear, flying by with an impressive speed I hadn’t been expecting.

“I’m spitting in your food!” she announced, slamming the door behind her.

The only reason I was able to turn around and climb back into bed, other than the fact that if I’d tried peeing it wouldn’t have ended up in the toilet, was because she was coming back.

With food.

For me.

Damn it. Something was happening. Something . . . that I really didn’t want to acknowledge. I always responded to women. Always. I appreciated them, thought all shapes and sizes were attractive. But I’d never responded to a client, crossed that line. With Blake it was more than that—it felt like more—because when we were together, I didn’t want the time to end. I wasn’t pretending to listen to her, and I didn’t check the time and give all the nonverbal cues of needing to wrap things up.

I just liked her. Plain and simple. She was beautiful, but something told me that even if she was still wearing the baggy sweatshirts and sporting a scrunchie, it wouldn’t have taken me a long time to discover the treasure that she was underneath.

She was fiercely loyal and hardworking. And she cared, even about someone who she really shouldn’t care about—me.

Last night, while feverish, I’d had that moment. A moment of clarity. I was the Grinch whose heart grew three sizes. I looked down.

Or maybe it was just my cock.

Either way, it was no longer just this physical wham-bam reaction. There was something about her, something that made me want to punch David in the face and steal Blake for myself.

Food.

She wasn’t bringing him food.

Food meant . . .

Oh shit.

It meant something.

Right?

And now I was acting like all of my clients—frantic, and desperate to win the attention of the person I was after. Fantastic.

I was still in the game, but I was warming the bench, splinters embedding themselves in my hard ass while David made a game-winning touchdown. Damn David.

With a sigh, I swiped my phone off the nightstand and sent off a quick text to Lex.

Ian: Where’d you bury her?

He responded right away.

Lex: I thought it best to leave you out of it just in case you have to testify.

Ian: You’re a good friend.

Lex: Also, Gabi says sorry for getting you sick.

Ian: A true friend would apologize with cookies.

Lex: She said to go screw yourself.

Ian: She not up to the task? Still too dehydrated?

Lex: She said, and I’m quoting her, just

FYI: Tell Ian that if I want to get syph I’ll do it without hooking up with the campus bike.

Ian: Bike?

Lex: Because everyone’s had a ride.

Ian: Unfair. It’s me riding them, not the other way around. You know how I feel about lazy sex. *Cough, points finger*

Lex: Bite me.

Ian: Pretty sure Gabs already took care of that.

Lex: Remind me to get my rabies shot later.

Ian: Are you home?

Lex: On my way.

I frowned at the phone.

Ian: You’re still at Gabi’s?

Lex: I told you, I had to get rid of the body. Murder takes time.

Ian: Alrighty then. See you in a few.

Lex: By the way, I hate her. Just so you know. I only came over here because I was worried she had the plague and was about to start a citywide epidemic.

Ian: No need to defend yourself.

Lex: Good. See you in a few.

I set down my phone and smiled, imagining just how great of a doctor Lex had been to Gabi. I bet he threw the medicine at her, then yelled when she didn’t suddenly just get better. He wasn’t a patient man, not when it came to Gabi. I wanted to check on her too, but I was suddenly exhausted.

With a groan, I rubbed my eyes, quickly got under the covers, and went back to sleep.