Page 10 of Unwrapped
“Doubtful. He stopped talking to me after I started dating his twin brother, and, well, you know wherethatrelationship got me.”
“Holy shit.” Her eyes go wide as the pieces fit themselves together. “Senator Douchebag has atwin?”
“Yep.” I look away and stare at the ceiling fan. “And they’re nearly identical, so seeing Dean was a gut punch I didn’t need today.”
Other than their different eye colors and Dean’s height advantage, the men could easily be mistaken for one another. Based on looks alone, that is. Personality-wise? There’s no comparison.
“Jesus. No wonder you’re off-balance.” Lena knows all about my ex’s betrayal and the reason I wound up in New York City. She was the first person to befriend me at my new job, back when I was nothing but a shell of myself.
“Off-balance is an understatement.” I rub my temples, embarrassed I had to go and faint like some delicate damsel. I’m a medical professional. I should be able to handle the sight of blood. Suppressing a shudder, I meet Lena’s gaze again. “And to think I thought I’d be able to decompress up here.”
She squeezes my ankle. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to distract you.” She grins and gestures to her bag. “Maybe you should read one of my books. I promise there’s nothing a giant, fictional cock can’t fix.”
“I haven’t experiencedanycocks—fictional or otherwise—in three years. I wouldn’t know what to do with one.”
She cackles. “Oh, c’mon. It’s like riding a bike.”
A soft knock turns our attention to the door.
I move to get off the bed, but she stops me. “Don’t you dare get up just yet.” She heads for the door and pulls it open, then immediately stiffens. “Hi. What can I do for you?”
Dean looms in the doorway with his stethoscope around his neck, looking as brutally gorgeous as ever. “I came to check on Camille.”
He’s one of the few people who use my full name—Ryan always called me Cam—and the way his voice caresses the syllables makes my insides flutter. It’s not fair he can still do this to me, even after all the years we haven’t spoken.
“She’s fine. I’ll let you know if anything changes.” Lena starts to close the door.
“Wait.” He blocks it with his foot and meets my gaze, his vibrant blue eyes searching mine. “I’d, uh, like to check your vitals.” He clears his throat. “You know, just to be sure.”
Lena peers over her shoulder at me and arches an eyebrow.
“Pretty sure Lena has everything under control, but fine. Do your thing,” I mumble, crossing my arms over my breasts. “Wouldn’t want to hurt your ego by making you sit this one out.”
It’s bitchy, but I don’t care. How dare he intrude on my reunion getaway. I’m supposed to be relaxing with my friends, not reliving my heartache.
Lena steps aside so he can enter. “She’s all yours, Doc.”
“Thanks.” Regret flashes across his face as he approaches my bedside. He pauses a foot away, tension crackling in the air between us. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” Other than the fact that I suddenly have difficulty filling my lungs.
“Are youactuallyfine, or are you just saying that, so I’ll leave you alone?”
“Both.”
“Seems about right.” Sighing, he rakes his hand through his thick, dark hair. “I’ll make this quick then.” He retrieves the blood pressure cuff from where Lena left it on the nightstand. “If I recall, you’re a lefty?”
“Yep.” I extend my left arm to him, moderately surprised he remembers. “Do you need me to sit up more?”
“No. You’re good.” He points to my sweater as he places his stethoscope in his ears. “Can you roll up your sleeve though?”
I slide the chunky cable-knit sleeve above my elbow.
Dean settles on the edge of the bed. His warm fingertips brush my skin when he wraps the cuff around my arm and tightens the Velcro. “Too tight?”
“No.”
He places the stethoscope’s diaphragm over the artery on the inside of my elbow and inflates the cuff. Twisting the knob, he slowly deflates it, listening intently. Once he gets the reading, he releases the pressure and unfastens the Velcro, then returns the cuff to the nightstand. “One-ten over seventy.”
