My Bad Boy Doctor

8

After pressing send, I wait a few minutes, but he doesn't respond. My computer clock indicates that it's only three in the afternoon, so he's probably at work. It is Wednesday, and I can't imagine him being the type to drop everything just to check his messages.

Val is at work, or I'd immediately call to tell her I screwed up the one chance I had with a guy. I can't talk to Dad, because he'd have a bazillion awkward questions I really don't want to answer. The only companion I have is my cat, and she doesn't speak.

The kitten has already doubled in size, and she's lying stretched out on the bed. When I look at her, she tilts her head up, blinking slowly. Then she yawns before resting her head against her paws. Plopping down beside her, I scoop her onto my stomach, scratching behind her ears. Her chest rumbles against mine, soothing my hurt feelings.

"So what do you think, Nova? Am I stupid for not jumping at the opportunity for a man to get down my pants?"

She purrs even louder.

The answer is no. I respect myself, no matter what everyone told me in school—that I should be grateful for any man to pay attention to me. I remember the boys teasing me, calling me Butterface. No one ever asked me to Prom or Homecoming dances, and no matter how much I want to believe Blake's interest is sincere, all I can see are the people in grade school laughing at me.

A tear slips down my face. "Why do people suck?" I whisper.

I should tell him the truth, but it doesn't matter. I blew my chance the moment I walked away. Besides, he implied he didn't like emotions. The most we would get out of each other is a couple of dates before he decides he's in too deep.

And no matter how many times I repeat this to myself, his clenched jaw, tight grip on the wheel, and rigid shoulders niggle at the back of my mind.

What would Val do? If she were here, she wouldn't let me mope over it. She'd snatch my phone and message him, pretending to be me as I watched in horror. Then I'd have no choice but to text back. Not only that, but I'm certain she'd make the first move instead of waiting around.

Maybe it's time for me to take a page out of her book.

Trembling and heart racing, I go to retrieve me phone. He still hasn't responded to my text, but I swallow my fear and send him a follow-up text before I can talk myself out of it.

'Come on a date with me.'

I can't believe how bold I am, but it's too late as blood rushes through my ears and my head swims. He's going to think I'm insane. Scratch that, I know I've lost it. Even worse, if he doesn't respond, I'll forever wonder if I scared him away. I'll hyperventilate until I throw up, and then I'll text Val until the wee hours of the night to ask her why I couldn't be normal like everyone else. I—

My phone interrupts my panicked thoughts with an incoming text. I'm afraid to see his response, reminded of every rejection letter I've received from agents since the last Pitmad. I was scared of those too.

"Okay," I breath, "just rip off the band-aid and get it over with. It's not the end of the world."

With my eyes closed, I swipe the screen, count to five, and open one eye. Then I open the other to make sure I'm reading this correctly.

'You gonna turn into a pumpkin at midnight or do you plan on sticking around this time?'

Ouch. Not that I don't deserve that, but it's also not a no...

'Can we do something...small?'

I can almost visualize him smirking as the next text comes in. 'Can't say I've ever done anything SMALL. 🤣'

'Naughty boy.'

'I can be bad too. ;)'

My cheeks must be flaming red right now. I never should have brought up the bad boys. 'Or you could be nice and we could do something quiet together.'

His head must be exploding on the other end, because I know his mind is in the gutter. 'I'm gonna behave and say okay. Come to my place on Friday. I'll make dinner for you.'

I'm dying to know what his idea of misbehaving is, but I guess I'll find out this weekend. With a grin, I text, 'Okay.'