Chapter 12
HANNA
My eyes squeeze together when the undeniable sensation of my stomach rolling over itself pulls me from my dream.
It had been a nice dream. The kind of dream I haven’t had in a long time but a dream I’d welcome again.
One that included an attractively thick fireman who towers over me with brown eyes that warm my core more than they should, seeing as how he’s my patient.
My patient.
Suddenly my eyes shoot open but throb instantly as the morning sun hits them.
I had a dream, a sex dream, about a patient.
My mind starts to recount the events of last night and I groan loudly as it remembers how I flirted with a patient while drunk at a bar.
I can count several ethical infractions I racked up in the last twelve hours since seeing him.
It was just a drunken mistake, I think to myself. He was there with friends, you were a little drunk, and you said some things. At least you didn’t kiss him.
Can’t say the same for what happened in your dream though, can you? a different voice perks up in the back of my mind.
Groaning to myself, I pull the overstuffed, expensive comforter I gifted myself for my thirtieth birthday over my eyes.
Both in part from the killer hangover that’s threatening to make me sick and the sheer stupidness of my actions.
I’m ready to hide under the covers like a little girl for the rest of the day when I feel my phone buzz from somewhere in my bed.
Hands searching, I hunt for it and pull it close to my face once I find it.
My eyebrows squint when I see the message is from an unknown number.
The device unlocks after typing in my password and pulls open the message.
1 New Message: Unknown
Morning doc. How’s your head feeling? Drink lots of water, it’ll help with the hangover.
My heart sinks in my chest as I realize who it is and then even further when I see this isn’t the first time he’s texted me…or I’ve texted back. There’s a string of messages from last night that I don’t even remember sending but the digital proof is right there in our text thread.
Hey, I just wanna make sure you got home okay. If you could text me when you see this, I’d appreciate it. Hope you had fun tonight, Doc.
I had home, that’s for sre.
You had home? Or you are home? Lol
Yes I have home
It’s sweet of you to want me to have a home.
Get home. I mean get home.
I meant what I said to the driver. Need to make sure the good doctor gets home safe so she can keep seeing me.
I’d LOVE to keep seeing you!!!!
Both in my office and out
It was SO cute how you got all protective. Shows you have a very caring heart. I like caring hearts, they make me happy.
I’ll keep that in mind for later.
Goodnight, Hanna.
Gnight firemannnnn
“Oh my goooood,” I groan again, pulling my comforter up and over my face. How could I have texted him like that? How could I have sent him the burning heart emoji? And not just one but three? What the fuck is wrong with me?
Just as I’m about to spiral out of control I hear my bedroom door open and someone shuffle in.
Before I can even look, Rae is climbing into my bed and pulling one of my pillows out from under me so she can use it.
She stayed at my place last night like we planned and crashed on the couch once we managed to stumble our way back to my apartment after our Uber dropped us off.
I’m sure we were a sight to behold—two grown ass women stumbling home like college students.
“Do you feel as bad as I do?” she mumbles and I can feel her trying to fight the covers away from me.
“I think I feel worse than you do,” I lament from my hiding spot.
“Well”—she sighs heavily—“at least we had fun. Hey, did you get that cute guy’s number last night? God, they don’t normally make them like him, do they?”
Images of Miles smiling at me after I stole his hat flood my mind and I suddenly feel my cheeks get hot.
“Says the girl who claims she met her husband last night. Did you get his number?” I ask, trying to deflect from answering her question.
I pull the comforter down to look at her and realize she’s lying on her side next to me, hands tucked under her face in a prayer position, clearly only half awake.
It makes sense why she wasn’t asking why I was hiding under the covers, she must’ve slinked in here, eyes closed, like she used to do when we lived together.
She releases a sigh and pouts. “I did meet my husband last night and isn’t that a damn shame.”
I flap the blanket down with a force and turn to look at her with a frown. “I don’t know why you’re like this. A gorgeous man comes up to you, buys you a drink, doesn’t get gross when you tell him you don’t want to dance, generally seems like a nice guy, and that’s a bad thing?”
“Exactly.” She sighs, cutting me off and pressing her index finger into my cheek.
When she opens her eyes, she looks genuinely sad.
“He’s a nice guy. My mother would love him.
He’s everything my parents have always wanted for me.
A nice man to settle down with in a nice house and have a nice life with a couple of nice kids. ”
Now it’s my turn to sigh. “Just because he’s a nice guy doesn’t mean you have to marry him, you know?”
As long as I’ve known her, Rae has lived an independent life.
She comes from a good family down in Atlanta but a traditional one in the sense that they would prefer it if their thirty-two year old daughter was married with a couple kids by now.
But that isn’t Rae and that isn’t what she wants for herself.
She likes her independence, thrives off of it actually, and I’m sure the thought of her meeting a man who might change that about her gives her a sense of unsettlement she’d rather avoid.
“Isn’t that what men want these days? To find a good wife and force them to stay home and raise their children?
No one wants a strong-minded female which is why the two of us are still single.
” She pauses for a beat and rolls over onto her back and swats at my shoulder with her hand.
“Enough about me, tell me about that guy from last night. You two seemed to be hitting it off pretty well. Please tell me you got his number. Or you gave him yours, that works too.”
“I didn’t need to give him mine seeing as how he already had it,” I say flatly. My mouth goes dry as I recall my texts from last night.
“Oh.” Her voice perks up. “You two already know one another? How do you know him? I’ve never met him before and I know pretty much everyone in your life. Not that there’s many of them, you’re kind of a recluse—you should really work on that.”
“Hey! I’m not a recluse, I’m just a very busy woman who’s prioritizing her career at the moment. I have you and my parents; I don’t need much else.”
“So then how do you know the cute guy from last night?”
“Please stop calling him cute—”
“Hanna…” She drops her tone and glares at me threateningly.
I grind my teeth to fight the sense of shame and embarrassment I feel about the entire situation. When I can’t escape it, I throw the blanket back over my head as if that will stop the feelings from finding me.
“He’s my patient,” I mutter under my breath. With the thick comforter over my face, my words are muddled at best.
“What was that?” Rae asks, pulling the blanket back.
“I said he’s my patient!” I nearly shout, flipping the blanket back down with force to stare at her.
“No shit?” Her mouth falls open and her eyes go wide at my confession.
“More like ‘oh, shit,’” I reply before flinging the comforter back over my head.
“Wait, if my still half drunk brain remembers correctly, wasn’t he wearing a Charleston Fire Department shirt? Was that your fireman?” Her voice raises an octave as she starts to put the pieces together. “I told you firemen are the cutest ones!”
She shakes my arm over the blanket, now excited by the prospect of knowing what Miles looks like.
“Rae, stop shaking me. You’re going to make me barf,” I object, giving her a good hard shove after coming out from under the covers. “He’s not cute, he can’t be cute, he’s a patient. And a patient who I can tell needs a lot of help and I want to be able to give him that.”
“Yeah, a real special kind of help, I’m sure,” she leers at me and pumps her eyebrows with a smirk.
“Rae!”
“What? Sweetie, breathe. It was just a little light flirting while one of you was a tad inebriated. It’s not the end of the world.”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘light’…” my voice trails off and I unlock my phone to show her our text exchange. Her eyes go wide when she hits the bottom.
“Okay, so maybe it’s a little more than light but that’s okay. You were drunk; it’s really not that deep.”
“But he’s my—”
“Patient, yes, I get that. Has anyone ever told you that maybe you take things a smidge too seriously?” She eyes me again.
“Has anyone ever told you you don’t take things seriously enough?” I toss back, giving her a contemptuous look.
We hold one another’s stare for another beat before she smiles at me.
“You know what will make this all better? Coffee. Come, come, let’s go smooth over your woes with something a little stronger than the sexy fireman from last night.”
When she rolls out of bed I throw a pillow in her direction which she deflects while laughing.
She disappears out of my room to change and I stare at the ceiling contemplating her words.
Maybe she’s right, maybe it isn’t that bad.
I was drunk, not in my right mind. If I hadn’t been drinking I definitely wouldn’t have flirted like I did.
Right?
“Hanna, you better be out of bed before I come in there and drag you out! Mama needs her coffee!” Rae calls from the living room. As I sit up in bed and stand, I notice it sitting on my dresser, almost mocking me.