Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 10791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 54(@200wpm)___ 43(@250wpm)___ 36(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 10791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 54(@200wpm)___ 43(@250wpm)___ 36(@300wpm)
“Thanks. I know the drill.” I’d been expecting as much. My endocrinologist was back in Portland, but the drive wasn’t terrible. I had a strong feeling I’d be switching pump brands yet again. As much as injections sucked while waiting for an appointment, I didn’t want another episode. “I’ll call her office as soon as we’re done here.”
I glanced meaningfully at the exam room door.
“Hint taken that you’re ready for discharge, but I don’t want you driving or being alone tonight.”
Crap. I didn’t know that many people in Mount Hope yet. Rory had, however, offered to come along, and I’d been woozy enough to agree.
“A…friend followed the ambulance. I think.”
“Rory with the sandwich?” The nurse practitioner was a good guesser. “Let me check with the front.”
In short order, the burly NP had Rory escorted back to my room while my discharge papers were readied.
“How are you feeling?” Rory asked from the doorway. Despite the late afternoon hour, he looked no worse for the long wait, cute as ever in his Hawaiian shirt with a tentative smile.
“Better.” I motioned him in. “My pump screwed up, so I’m back on injections and manual monitoring. And the nurse practitioner wants to make sure I have a ride home.”
“You do.” Rory nodded enthusiastically.
“And someone to stick around tonight?” the NP added. “Not to put you on the spot, but going from the pump back to injections can be a rough transition. Marshall could use a friend.”
“He’s got one.” Rory’s grin was wide and genuine as ever, despite my whole I-don’t-date-coworkers speech. My stomach clenched around more than hunger though. I hated thinking I’d likely hurt him.
“I can call my parents or something if you can’t stay.”
“And have them come from Portland?” Rory scoffed. “I’m happy to help.”
“Let him help. And I’m going to go check on that paperwork.” With that, the NP was gone, leaving me alone with Rory.
“I feel like I’m taking advantage,” I admitted, kicking my feet against the base of the exam table.
“Of what? My desire to be your friend?” Rory played dumb well, all wide-eyed innocence.
“You know what I mean.”
Rory made a frustrated noise. “Would I like to date you? Yes. Am I planning to bring up the subject again? No. Do I want to be your friend? Very much, yes. And will I take you home and stay with you the same as I would for any friend? Yep. Already asked my dad to stop by and feed my cats.”
“Why am I not surprised you have cats?” Knowing Rory, he likely had multiple rescues he doted on. Predictably, he had pictures of his three at the ready to show me while we waited on my paperwork, and I forgot about feeling awkward about needing help.
Rory drove an ancient but clean compact and continued to seem only too happy to ferry me around. Luckily, the pharmacy closest to the hospital had the medication I needed ready, so we didn’t have a long wait. I directed Rory back downtown to my apartment above a jewelry store and within walking distance of the courthouse and our work.
“I love your couch.” Rory headed right for my large red suede couch, a statement piece adorned with colorful throw pillows.
“I allowed my mother to decorate,” I confessed. Left to my own devices, the place would likely be rather barren with shades of gray as I wasn’t nearly as adventurous as my stylish mother. “She had a bit too much fun finding furniture and art.”
“That’s sweet that you let her have free rein though.” Rory had never met the force of nature that was my mother, but I nodded nonetheless.
“She has good taste.” I sat in the Eames-style chair near the couch, careful not to sit too close to Rory. I’d told the truth in the elevator. I found him cute, funny, and charming, and anyone else would be delighted to date him. I hated how my old breakup messed with my head, but I didn’t want to screw up our work relationship or tentative friendship.
“Now, what would you like for dinner?” Rory asked.
“You don’t have to cook.”
“Modern science.” He held up his phone. “We’ve both had a day. We’re ordering something with protein. I’m thinking wings from The Heist because they’re close and have other appetizers that aren’t too terrible nutritionally, but feel free to suggest something else.”
“Wings sound great.” I mainly appreciated not having to think overly much about food choices. “I like their smashed potato things. And they do a spinach dip we might be able to count as a vegetable.”
“Done.” Rory clicked around on his phone. “Food will be here in thirty or so.” Stretching, he reached for my remote, easy as if he’d lived here for years. “What would you like to watch?”
In his own understated way, Rory was every bit as much a force as my mother. I knew from experience that giving in to his agenda was easier than protesting.