As predicted, Josh left Quinn at the bar to wade through the maze of people and high-top tables to the charcoal velvet love seat where Deb and I were seated. He tapped the neck of his beer to mine and then shot me a charming grin before taking a sip.
I was different. Josh just didn’t know it yet.
Since the day I had woken up in the hospital, everything was different. The old Avery wouldn’t have given someone like Josh a chance, but things like ego and how I should or shouldn’t behave didn’t feel so important now.
Josh sat in front of me, pointing his beer toward the short tower of empty shot glasses stacked on the table in front of us. “How was the shot I sent over?”
“I’ve had better,” I said.
Josh made a face. “Why are you always so mean? I never have to try this hard. Ever. It’s damaging my already fragile ego,” he joked, placing his hand over his heart as if he were injured.
I smirked. “That’s why.”
Josh had earned his nickname. McPanties would take me for the night, but Josh and I had walked away from that horrible accident for a reason. I wasn’t exactly sure what that was, but we definitely hadn’t survived a high-speed collision with a tractor-trailer for a one-night stand. Call it fate or kismet or maybe just plain dumb luck, but I wanted to know, why us?
Josh settled in next to me, clearly intrigued. “So, you’re saying I’ve got a shot.”
“I’m saying this shot,” I said, holding up an empty glass, “was mediocre. You better up your game.”
His gray irises sparkled. “Challenge accepted.”
I giggled, lifting my bottle to take another sip. The bottle never made it to my mouth. Dr. Rosenberg was standing at the bar with Michaels. She was still wearing her scrubs, a ball of orange frizz seeming to hover above her head. When she spoke, her wild bun wobbled.
Dr. Rosenberg barely acknowledged her, looking trapped and uncomfortable. Good. Michaels had likely talked him into grabbing a drink after work. She wasn’t known to take no for an answer, and Dr. Rosenberg had been catching a lot of hell recently for not being approachable. I sighed, hating that I was making excuses for him. If I wasn’t careful, he would topple from the pedestal I placed men like him on.
Josh stopped and turned to see what had drawn my attention. When he faced me again, I felt my cheeks burn.
He gestured toward the doctor, clearly annoyed. “What is your deal with him? Are you having an affair?”
“No. God, no. He’s married,” I stuttered, not anticipating him being so direct. Josh wasn’t the type to sugarcoat anything, no matter how bitter the truth was to swallow.
“So?”
I frowned.
He held up his hands and shrugged. “I’m not saying I agree with it, but a doctor banging a nurse isn’t the craziest thing I’ve heard.”
“Dr. Rosenberg is a good man. He would never cheat on his wife.”
“So, that’s it,” Josh said as the skin between his eyebrows smoothed and he visibly relaxed.
“What?”
“Why you like him so much. He’s safe. You think you don’t have to worry about him returning your affection.”
I turned to him and narrowed my eyes, leaning my shoulder into the cushion. “Well, Dr. Avery, continue your analysis.”
“You obviously have daddy issues.”
“Oh, please. Who doesn’t?” His assessment was spot on, and I tried to count the years it had been since I’d even spoken to my aunt.
He didn’t hesitate. “You like me.”
“False.”
“Bullshit.” His eyebrow rose as he tipped the beer bottle to his lips.
“That certainly falls in line with your initial belief that I’m addicted to unrequited love.”
“You’re in love with him?” He didn’t try to hide the disgust in his tone.
“No. That’s not what I said. At all.”
“Then stop staring at him,” he said.
I blinked, realizing I was watching the doctor again. “I wasn’t. I was … I’m watching Michaels.”
“Because she’s with the doctor, and you’re jealous.”