Chapter 35
GIRLFRIEND-GATE, MY ASS (EDEN)
The door slams behind them, and I’m left shaking in the middle of my own damn clinic, adrenaline sizzling under my skin. I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until it rips out of me, jagged and useless.
By the time I make it home, my legs are as wobbly as overcooked pasta. Keys slip out of my fingers twice before I manage to shove them in the lock.
Liz is on the couch, a thick medical textbook balanced on her knees, but the second she sees me, she bolts upright. “Eden?”
“I’m fine,” I start to say, but when I shrug off my coat, fire shoots down my shoulder. A hiss escapes before I can bite it back.
Her gaze narrows, nurse mode snapping on in a blink. “Fine, my ass. Sit. Show me.”
“Liz—”
“Don’t Liz me. Sleeve. Now.”
I sigh, but she’s already peeling the sweatshirt down. The ugly blotch spreading across my shoulder makes her brows shoot up.
“Well, well. Did the Carvers start a family fight club and forget to send me the memo?” Her lips quirk in a weak smile, but her expression stays sharp.
“Something like that,” I mutter.
The humor drains in an instant. “Eden. What happened?”
I look away, jaw tight. She gets a dish towel and ice and presses it gently against my skin. The cold makes me flinch.
“Jesus,” she mutters. “That’s going to mark up like hell.”
The pressure inside me buckles. I didn’t break in front of Leo. Didn’t break in front of Nate. Couldn’t give either of them the satisfaction. But here, with Liz fussing, steady, zero judgment, the dam cracks wide open. Tears spill, hot and humiliating.
She doesn’t flinch. Just rests her hand over mine, warm and sure. “I’ve got you.”
Then her stare flicks back to the injury. “Eden. Did Nate do this?”
The question knocks the air out of me. “Yes.”
Her whole body goes rigid. The air in the room shifts, crackling with protective fury. “Oh my God. We’re going to the police. Right the fuck now.”
“No.” I grab her wrist before she can bolt. “It’s not like that.”
Her glare could set drywall on fire. She doesn’t stop shoving her things in her purse, getting ready to barge out the door on her quest for justice. “Not like that? You sound like a cliché, Eden. So how is it? Enlighten me.”
“Liz! Sit!” She turns around, eyebrows raised, still vibrating with righteous anger.
“Technically, it was my shoulder in the middle of Nate and Leo’s alpha posturing,” I groan, pressing my palm to my face.
“Two overgrown man-children decided to reenact Rocky IV in my clinic, and guess who caught the bonus round?”
Slowly, her shoulders relax. She sits back down next to me, but I can still see the protective fire in her expression. “You’re telling me those two idiots—”
“—stormed in, aired grievances like it was Festivus, and used my grand opening as their personal Thunderdome.” My laugh comes out jagged, way too close to a sob. “Meanwhile, my client list is canceling in real time. Haven’t you seen the posts?”
Her nose wrinkles. “Yeah. And let me guess—they were swinging their dicks to decide whose fault it was?”
A cracked snort escapes me. “Fought, smoldered, acted like I was a prize goat in some medieval tournament.” My voice breaks on the last word.
Liz squeezes my hand tighter. “Oh, Eden.”
I scrub at my face, frustration choking me.
“Men suck, Liz. They swoop in, puff their chests, play savior, and I’m the one left with injuries, canceled clients, and a Yelp reputation circling the drain.
They get to sleep around and everyone calls them players.
I kiss a guy in a restaurant, and I’m unprofessional. ”
The ice pack slips, shocking my skin again. Before I can adjust it, my phone lights up on the coffee table.
Nate
Pick up, Trouble.
Another buzz.
Nate
Please. Just tell me you’re okay.
Three more texts from Nate, each one more desperate than the last. Each message presses more on my chest.
And then—Leo.
Leo
Call me.
We’re not done.
You shouldn’t be alone right now.
The phone buzzes nonstop, vibrating across the wood.
Nate
I’ll fix it.
Liz jeers at the screen. “Wow. You’re surrounded with dumb, hot men who think flooding you with texts counts as an apology.”
The phone pings again. Another Nate message.
Nate
Don’t freeze me out.
“An escort would’ve been cleaner. No mess, no drama, no injuries, no PR disaster. Just a couple orgasms and everyone tips the driver.” Liz gives the phone a disgusted flick. “You need to block these idiots.”
A jagged laugh tears out of me.
Liz shifts the ice, studying me as if I were a puzzle she intends to solve with or without my cooperation. “So what now?”
I bark a laugh that very well could belong in a psych ward. “What now? I open my shiny new clinic tomorrow with three cancellations already logged and my face trending under Russo’s girlfriend-gate.”
Her expression twists. “Catchy. Rolls right off the tongue.”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll embroider it on a pillow.” My voice wobbles, but I push on. “What now is...I survive. I plaster on a professional smile, I treat whoever doesn’t bail, and I pray the internet finds a new chew toy.”
Liz doesn’t buy it. Her nurse face is gone; this is the best-friend face—sharper, scarier. “And Nate?”
My throat closes. Just his name makes the tears threaten again. I look away, blinking hard. “He’s not the problem.”
She arches a brow, sharp as a scalpel. “Eden.”
“He’s not,” I repeat, fiercer this time.
But even as I say it, part of me knows the truth is more complicated.
The societal conditioning runs deeper than logic.
“The problem is me. I let myself forget my rules. I let myself want something, and the second I took it, the universe reminded me I’m not allowed. ”
Liz exhales, long and slow, probably counting to ten in her head. “That’s the biggest pile of crap I’ve heard this year. And I work with men who think I can’t find their veins.”
I choke out a laugh-sob, swiping at my face. “Maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that my business is bleeding before it even got started, and if I don’t figure out a way around it, everything I’ve worked for goes down the drain.”
My phone buzzes with another text. Liz puts the phone on Do Not Disturb and flips it facedown.
“Block those idiots. Let them suffocate on their own testosterone fumes. Tomorrow, we remind the world how badass girls get shit done.”