Page 9 of Goalie Secrets

C’mon, Lopez. Think of anything other than hot doctor breasts.

Three things to kill a boner:The stink of a locker room. The green sludge I drink every morning. Taxes.

That does it. Erection averted.

“It’s my first day, so I’m not used to my surroundings,” she declares.

“Today is your first day at the clinic?”

“Yes.” That’s all she offers, which you’d think I would take as a hint to shut up. You would be wrong.

“New to Columbus, too?”

She tilts her head slightly, like I’m a critter that grew a limb. She’s both interested and repelled. “Yes.”

“So how can you be sure there isn’t a lineup of patients who will put you on a timer? I bet I’m the only patient you’ve seen if this is your first day.”

“You’re the third patient I’ve met this morning.”

“What kind of doctor comes to a conclusion after three data points? That’s not very scientific. For all you know, every one of your patients after me could be as rude as I was.”

“Rude is one thing,” she huffs. “Paying menotto take off my clothes is not likely to happen again in this lifetime.”

I chuckle at her choice of words. After feeling what’s under those scrubs, I’m pretty sure most people would pay her to take her clothesoff.

“Oh my god, your face basically spelled out what you were thinking. I’m out of here.”

“What was I thinking?” I blurt. She raises a brow, and there’s nothing to do except concede. “OK, don’t answer that. My point is, c’mon, doc. That was a great session. If that’s what you can do in thirty minutes, I’m in. Work with me.”

“Have a great day, Mr. Lopez,” she says in a tone one would use to saygo jump off a cliff.

Dr. Kapur walks out without once looking back.

Despite the normal fatigue of a ten-hour workday, I’m still wired after my lame dinner of chickpea salad. It’s eight at night. Heading to bed this early will bring no comfort. Medical school has trained me to function on five hours of sleep. Anything over that and I’m usually more tired the next day.

A text in full caps lock pings.

Ashley:CALL ME BACK, BIRTHDAY GIRL!

Two minutes later, there’s a follow up text.

Ashley:Unless you’re doing something super fun, you better call me!

She sends a selfie with an exaggerated glam-up filter, looking ridiculous and adorable. If I ever had an actual home to miss, this is probably what homesickness would feel like. I press on her name.

“Finally!” she answers. “Remind me again why you had to move to Iowa?”

“Ohio,” I correct with a chuckle. She’s such an East Coast snob.

“Whatever,” Ashley mutters dismissively. “It feels like months, and I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” I admit.

“Is that Vanya?” Paul, her husband, asks in the background. “Happy Birthday! Are you ready to come back?” Paul and I did our residency together, which is how they met.

“Paul says hi,” Ashley says. “So, what did you do today?”

“Nothing much. It was my first day at the clinic.”