Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
I am a no-nonsense motherfucker who takes charge of my life and my destiny.
—From Remy’s Badass Bitch Affirmations
Remy
Counter to her expectations, Remy slept like a log—the best sleep she’d had in a long time. But when her eyes opened on schedule at four in the morning, so she could be swimming by four thirty, Remy experienced a level of disorientation that shook her to her core.
There was a man in her bed.
For the first time since him.
Even though she’d largely banished it from her thoughts, Remy forced herself to mentally form his name.
Doug.
She slammed her eyes closed, her traumatized mind betraying her into thinking the presence next to her was him.
Remy’s pulse raced and her breathing turned shallow.
She couldn’t open her eyes. Couldn’t erase the image of his face looming over her.
In anger. In a state of unbridled rage—eyes snapping and hands clenching.
In abject supplication as he love-bombed her after he’d hurt her.
Remy fought to open her eyes, a small whimper escaping as the man next to her mumbled in his sleep, then shifted toward her. Instead of freezing in fear, Remy relaxed. That mumble belonged to Sebastian. It was Sebastian next to her, not Doug.
Doug is gone. You’re ok. Doug can’t hurt you anymore.
Sebastian’s reassuring presence and the comforting chant—one she hadn’t needed to exercise in a long time—released her from the fear-stranglehold.
Remy carefully turned her head to the side.
There lay Sebastian Wheatley, curled on his side and facing her, sound asleep.
One hand was tucked under his pillow, the other draped across the sheet pulled across him.
Solid biceps peeked out from under the short sleeve of his shirt, and her gaze devoured the well-formed traps from the tops of his shoulders to his neck.
He’d worn a T-shirt and athletic shorts to bed last night—keeping his word about respecting her.
Remy wasn’t sure if she was relieved at that. Or disappointed.
She took a moment to examine him. The room was still dark, but moonlight filtered through the louvered shutters she’d closed before easing herself into bed like her roommate was an unpinned grenade.
Or maybe she was the one unpinned. She certainly hadn’t been herself since she’d made her deal with the dazzling devil.
She never imagined a devil could look so peaceful. But, then, this devil wasn’t at all evil, was he? Quite the opposite, it seemed.
Remy leaned over just a bit—tempted to run a hand along the dark shadow of his morning whiskers.
His eyebrows were dramatic slashes across his handsome face.
There were light touches of gray at his temples and threaded sparingly through the rest of his hair.
She liked that his hair didn’t appear dyed.
Fine lines at the corners of his eyes and bracketing his full lips evinced the ready nature of his smile.
She smiled reflexively at the thought of it.
Even in repose, Sebastian Wheatley was devastatingly handsome. She took a moment to appreciate—and maybe engrave on her heart—what he looked like when he wasn’t moving a thousand miles an hour. Peaceful Sebastian was a tempting Sebastian. What would he do if she leaned over and kissed—
A familiar chatter, along with the sounds of scampering from downstairs, caught her attention.
Chicane was a creature of routine as much as Remy.
And good thing, she chastised herself. Because she had the distinct sense that if she initiated any sexual intimacy, that was one more piece of her he’d own. And she wasn’t ready to give that up.
Plus, she’d be late for work.
But maybe just one tiny kiss…
Chicane made a loud sound of impatience.
Saved by the bunny.
Remy rolled her neck as she inhaled a quick sandwich between cases.
The morning had been grueling. Three hip replacements in a row—the last of which was with a patient whose BMI was significantly higher than the hospital’s usual surgical protocols, but Remy had done her other hip a few years ago and this woman was special to her.
Some patients touched your heart, and Ginny Rodriguez was one of them—even willing to travel from Baltimore to Charlottesville for the surgery.
Remy had sought and received approval to perform the procedure, knowing in advance it would take a lot of physical strength and limb manipulation to ensure the best outcome.
Prior to grabbing lunch, she’d checked on Ginny in the post-anesthesia care unit.
Predictably, her patient was wide awake, chattering to the nurses, and offering to make her signature black bean empanadas as a thank you as soon as she was up and around.
Remy had smiled and then slipped into the surgeons’ lounge, grabbing whatever was in there.
Growing up, she’d never known if there would be unspoiled food in the fridge or their sparse pantry.
Free school lunches were her only guaranteed meal of the day, so she’d adapted to eat what she could, when she could.
She’d subsequently learned—during the occasional times her mother agreed to stay at a shelter, when Remy’s sperm donor had been at his drug-addled, violent worst—that kids like her were not picky eaters.
Continuing her post-op stretching routine, Remy rolled her shoulders back several times, clenching and releasing her aching hands. Her phone buzzed in her scrub pocket and she reached for it, shoving the last bite of a Reuben sandwich into her mouth. Chewing, she read the text from Sebastian.
Sebastian
Good morning, my queen! Sorry I slept through your alarm.
I wanted to wish you a Phenomenal Day fixing people!
Our little prince told me to tell you ‘Hi, Mommy.’ He’s being a rambunctious angel and I don’t know how I ever lived without a lop bunny in my life.
His long, floppy ears are the most fabulous thing ever.
Next to you, that is. I’m obsessed. With both of you.
But not in a freaky or scary way. (I’ve had a lot of coffee.)
Remy’s lips twitched at the visual of both Sebastian and Chicane with the zoomies, Sebastian’s caused by too much coffee.
Sebastian
I checked with your clinic manager and she thought you’d be home by seven.
I’ll have dinner ready for you, dear. And maybe I’ll just be in my apron.
I know how much you love my tush, Scrub Angel.
I even had a maintenance ass laser session before I got back from LA. Smooth as glass and hard as steel.
Despite herself, Remy snorted a laugh. That man. She shook her head, chuckling again. Across the room, one of her colleagues from GI whipped her head up, eyes widened in wonder at the uncharacteristic sound. Fair—Remy wasn’t exactly known for her sense of humor.
Sebastian
Also, let me know if you can take the day off next Monday as part of a long weekend. I know it’s last minute, but I have a Really Cool Idea (get used to those) and you will definitely need the day off. This is Big. Special. Massive. Pleaaaaase? Let me know. See you tonight. Happy surgerying!
Now Remy burst into laughter, ignoring the incredulous looks darting between the GI doc and another surgeon who’d just walked in.
She contemplated Sebastian’s request. Yes, she had patients to see, and yes, she hated to let them down.
But a precious voice, one that sounded a lot like Etta Remington, whispered at her to just take the damn day off.
She hadn’t taken a vacation day in the entire year she’d been at Evangelist.
Besides, an emotion she’d never experienced before welled in her heart. Anticipatory curiosity. And she was going to see it through.