Page 14 of Healing Her (Pulse Medical #1)

A shley had specifically chosen her Santa Monica apartment for its breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean, something she hadn’t grown up with in Cleveland, Ohio.

But as she stood, fully dressed for work, by the floor-to-ceiling expanse of windows in her living room, eyes fixed on the horizon, she didn’t see so much as a seagull flapping by.

All she saw was Jen Colton, bent over a table and a stack of surgical blankets, biting her lip and rolling one blue eye to look at Ashley through a cloud of her silver curls.

Ashley was holding a hot, fresh cup of coffee she’d just made. But she didn’t feel the warmth seeping into her hands, nor the smooth ceramic surface under her fingers.

The soft, slippery heat of Jen Colton’s clit had been on her fingertips for three days now.

Over by her couch, her phone went off, buzzing loudly against the birch top of her end table. City , she thought absently, for a brief second before the thought fluttered away and was replaced by the sound of Jen’s groan as Ashley had stroked her orgasm out of her.

She’d never been with anyone like Jen Colton. And she could not for the life of her stop thinking about it. It had been a mind-altering, life-changing fuck in a hospital storage room. Absolutely incomprehensible on every level.

Ashley was self-aware enough to know that she was, in fact, the control freak Jen had accused her of being that night in the surgeons’ lounge. It was how she’d gotten as far as she had in her career. Being told no was not an acceptable answer for her and never had been.

She wandered over to her oversized gray velvet sofa and curled up in the corner. As near as she could figure out, she’d never before been told you can’t by anyone to whom she was attracted to, however unwillingly she was attracted to them.

Well, Jen Colton was actually the first person she’d felt such a strong pull towards despite the intense dislike she held for the woman.

That wasn’t the point… she thought. Maybe.

Or was it? Lots of people had told her she couldn’t do something at various points in her life, and she’d gone on to defy them every time, whether she liked them or not.

This, however, was the first time sex was involved.

Ashley’s head was spinning. Yes, Jen Colton was an attractive woman.

No, Ashley did not like her. But oh, God , when Jen squared up and got in Ashley’s face, when she said Ashley couldn’t make her do something…

there had been so many women in Ashley’s life, and she’d never wanted to make them…

she squirmed in her seat. She’d never wanted to make them behave .

To submit. To bend to her will. That was new.

It was why she’d been ghosting City for three days now, she admitted to herself with guilt.

They were good friends, and their sexual relationship was great, and it had fulfilled a number of needs for them both, but Ashley knew something was very different for her now after the supply room encounter.

Sex with City wouldn’t be the same. It wasn’t about just having a mutually pleasurable sexual encounter for the sake of an orgasm now, not for her.

No, she wanted more of whatever that had been with Jen. The bratty cracks, the defiance, the way her nails bit into the palms of her hands when Jen’s spirited repartee made Ashley clench her fists. She wanted to be told you can’t and then to show Jen that oh, actually, she absolutely could .

And that frightened her more than anything.

Because to have that kind of control meant letting go in other ways.

Despite this being new for her, Ashley was no dummy.

She knew there was a different kind of intimacy in that kind of sexual interaction.

And since she was not one for intimacy in general, because intimacy involved feelings and emotions and she did not have space for that in her life…

feeling pulled towards any kind of intimacy was a great big red flag.

“We are strong women, Ashley Elizabeth,” she heard her mother’s voice saying briskly.

A vivid memory flashed into her mind, of Rebecca Proctor sitting at the kitchen table of their tiny Cleveland house, busily making tea sandwich after tea sandwich.

They would be burying Ashley’s father later in the afternoon.

A car accident on a rainy day. She could still feel the tears drying on her cheeks. She was nine.

“We will get through this.” Rebecca’s eyes were dry.

Two black dresses hung neatly on the back of the kitchen door, both impeccably ironed.

Rebecca kept spreading cream cheese on bread, laying thin slices of cucumber on top, then another slice of bread.

With the same precision she used for stitching up wounds on her clinic patients, she cut the sandwich into two triangles and placed both on top of a growing stack on the plate by her elbow.

Ashley remembered listening hard as her mother went on.

“It’s just you and me now. You’re going to have to do a lot for yourself from now on, Ashley, do you understand? ”

She hadn’t.

Rebecca had sighed and gotten to her feet, setting a glass dome over the sandwiches she’d made. “We have to get ready. People will be coming back here after the funeral. Did you vacuum?”

She’d cried the entire time. But she’d vacuumed. “Yes, Mother.”

Rebecca squared her shoulders and stood up straight. “Then let’s go show them all how strong we can be. They think we will need their help. But we haven’t needed anything so far, and we’ll be fine, won’t we?”

To this day, Ashley didn’t understand at all why her mother had not wanted any help or input from their neighbors.

Why she’d kept them closed out, not even accepting so much as a casserole from any of them.

But she knew she’d internalized the message Rebecca sent.

You’re on your own, kid. You don’t ever need anyone else. Emotions are weakness.

The day after the funeral, Rebecca had returned to work at the medical practice she shared with two other doctors.

Ashley had been sent back to school with strict instructions not to bawl like a baby and to get all of her schoolwork done.

There was no time to mourn Kenneth Proctor, not then, not ever.

Had that been a healthy upbringing? Ashley didn’t have to be a psychiatrist to know it wasn’t.

But she had the career she wanted, she’d graduated at the top of her class at every level of her education, she was an incredible surgeon.

She had surpassed her mother in every way, thanks to Rebecca’s cool, pragmatic detachment and harsh lessons.

This thing with Jen Colton threatened to upend all of that. So obviously it couldn’t go any further, it had already gone much, much too far. Ashley bit down on her lower lip and peeled away dry skin with her teeth. She truly had no idea what to do.

Another message buzzed through on her phone, and this time she actually looked at it. To her surprise, it was from Chief Sundstrom. She picked up the phone and was horrified to see five missed calls from him. Call me immediately , the message said, tersely.

She fumbled her way through calling him back, and he didn’t wait for a word from her when he picked up. “Maria Rivera’s had a heart attack,” he said, the words short and his tone curt. “Get here now .”

Ashley was positive she was going to get some serious speeding tickets from at least five different Los Angeles suburbs, the way she’d raced to get to Oakridge after the Chief’s call. And all eyes were on her as she all but sprinted through the hospital to make her way up to the VIP floor.

She got herself under control as the elevator doors slid open, patting her hair to make sure there were no flyaways.

A hallway mirror let her know her cheeks were still flushed a hectic pink, but there was nothing she could do about that now.

As she slowly approached Maria Rivera’s room, Ashley took in five long, deep breaths. Then she pushed open the door.

Maria’s room was buzzing with activity. The Chief was there, of course, his face taut with concern.

A trio of nurses were hard at work around Maria’s bed, adjusting her IVs, checking her sitting position, tucking warm blankets around her shoulders.

The woman’s eyes were open, but her face had taken on an ashier gray tone and her lips were even more blue.

They’d taken out her nasal cannula and replaced it with a full mask.

The situation was clearly very, very dire.

To Ashley’s chagrin, Jen Colton was also there. The transplant director glanced toward her as she walked in, but their eyes met only briefly before Jen’s gaze went right back to being fixed on Maria. Her expression was troubled, and Ashley felt an unaccustomed desire to comfort her.

She shook it off. “Status?”

“Stabilized at the moment, but officially critical, Doctor Proctor.” Chief Sundstrom’s expression was grim. “I believe we’re past the point of an implanted device.”

“We were past that point five days ago when she came in,” Dr. Colton remarked, her voice grim.

Ashley ignored her and moved past the nurses to get to Maria’s bedside. Gently, she took the woman’s frail wrist in her hand to feel her pulse. It was a soft, feathery beat under the thin skin. “Hello, Ms. Rivera,” she said, keeping her tone low. “How are you?”

Maria’s free hand crept up and pulled the oxygen mask away slightly. “I could get up and salsa right now if these nurses would let me,” came the faint reply, with a bare ghost of a smile.

“I’ll make sure of that,” Ashley promised, swallowing hard.