Font Size
Line Height

Page 34 of Love Medley (Med Wreck Romance #1)

Chapter twenty-five

Lucy

L ater that night, I find myself unable to sleep. Honestly, I’m a little terrified at how perfect Jake seems—is he too good to be true? He’s the whole package: sensitive, sweet, generous, and fun.

But there’s also much, much more to him. He sees the true me—beyond just the dependable daughter that my parents could count on or the perfect foil for Weston that was really only a reflection of him.

With Jake, I’ve never had to hide who I was—I’ve never needed to strip away part of my personality to become more palatable. To be someone different, someone better.

With Jake, I feel like I’m exactly who he wants, just as I am.

The urge to invite him upstairs was almost overpowering.

I already know one kiss will never be enough; I’m not sure how much longer I can resist the undeniable pull between us.

But at the same time, Jake’s eagerness to invite me out on a second date was beyond charming.

And it’s tomorrow night, so it’s not like I have to wait long.

While it’s not typical to have two dates this close together, I don’t really care at this point; I’m thrilled I’ll get to see him so soon. We’re both miraculously off two nights in a row—why waste that gift?

With Jake, I don’t feel like I need to restrict myself to normal conventions. We just like each other, and that’s enough.

My heart soars as I think about Jake—he makes me feel lighter than I’ve felt in a long time.

In the morning, I start a load of laundry.

While the washer is going, I recall my conversation with Jake about the lack of a better physical abuse screening method in the ER.

When I was with Weston, I wouldn’t have dared to even contemplate such a project.

But Jake’s quiet support for my ideas gives me the confidence to reach out to Dr. Simons .

Quickly, I type out a message.

Dr. Simons,

I really enjoyed working with you a few weeks ago.

I wanted to ask you about a topic that came up during that shift.

You told me that there were no current ways for physicians to screen for physical abuse in the ER.

But I also know there are a lot of studies ongoing in the Blackwell ER and was wondering if there is a current project related to this topic? I’d love to be a part of it.

Hope to work with you again soon!

Lucy

For someone so naturally impulsive, I still hesitate before sending the email. Will Dr. Simons think I’m being too forward by asking? Do I even have the bandwidth to add anything to my already complicated life?

Then I think about my night in the bathroom hiding from Weston.

The terrified expression of Tanya. The panic attack outside of the ER.

The multiple confrontations with Weston over the past few weeks.

Over the past year, I’ve had so little control of my life, and it’s time to make a change.

Even though it was scary, I took a leap of faith on Jake, and I’m so glad I did.

I click send.

The washer still has some time left, so I turn on my favorite show, Gilmore Girls, a series I’ve watched in entirety several times.

As I watch Lane Kim, Rory’s best friend, sneak out of the window, I’m hit by a wave of unease.

This show was supposed to relax me, but right now, it’s reminding me of my mom’s expectations and how little I’ve been meeting them lately.

I grab my phone and type out another text to Peter.

Me: Are you okay? Call me.

I decide against watching more of the show and turn on the soundtrack to Les Mis instead. I grin when I get to Eponine’s solo—I suppose my crush wasn’t so unrequited after all.

While I move my clothes from the washer to the dryer, I remember how I bullied Jake into watching Armageddon with me.

I would never have pushed for a particular movie with Weston.

With Jake, I wasn’t at all worried that he’d have a negative reaction—I just understood instinctively that he’d be up for anything.

Who knew? When I have space to have opinions, I actually have preferences.

After what seems like an interminable wait, it’s finally 4pm, and I call in an order to Thai Goddess, a little restaurant close to my apartment. They have some pad thai and curries to die for.

As I get ready for our movie date, I catch myself humming “Brown-Eyed Girl.” The catchy melody shoots a tingle of promise through me. I’m glad my situation isn’t a replica of the lyrics, forever wondering, what if I had taken that leap after all?

It’s still the middle of July, and I want to dress more casually than last night, since we’re staying in.

I choose a pair of white shorts and a cute sky-blue top with puff sleeves and an elastic bodice, along with a pair of tan sandals for comfort.

Giddiness returns to me when I revisit the adorably awkward conversation Jake and I had about our favorite colors.

Suddenly, I realize I haven’t worn black in weeks. I’m filled with a glow of satisfaction—maybe it’s not so far-fetched that I can take the reins of my life back.

Ten minutes after I pick up the food, I arrive laden with bags at Jake’s front door.

My nerves are buzzing on high-alert; I’m anxious and excited.

What if things are different this time? Maybe Jake’s changed his mind and has decided my baggage is too much for him after all.

I’m floored by how much I want this to work out, for all of this to be real.

If it’s not, I’ll feel like a rug’s been pulled out from under me.

It hits me then how much Jake’s become a steady place for me to land.

All of those worries are silenced the moment Jake swings the door wide.

“Lucy,” he says, his voice echoing in the stairwell. “Come on in.”

My breath hitches at the sight of him. He’s wearing a fitted gray t-shirt and jeans. Bare feet. Tousled brown hair. Earring. Gray eyes twinkling.

I’m struck by how incredibly attracted I am to this man; the swell of feelings accompanying that realization frightens me.

Jake grabs the bags as he simultaneously places a hand on the small of my back. At that single touch, goosebumps rise on my arms.

I shiver involuntarily at the image of his fingers stroking my bare skin .

“Are you cold?” Jake looks concerned. “I can grab you one of my hoodies.”

The thought of wearing something smelling like him is almost irresistible, but it’s July and hot outside. There’s no reason for me to wear more layers. “No, I’m good, but thank you.”

“Of course. Welcome back.” Jake smiles as he sets down the bags of food on the table. “This smells great, by the way.”

The inside of Jake’s apartment is nicely rehabbed, which I remember from last time.

Gleaming honey-colored hardwood floors beneath my feet.

A wide living space that opens up to an office area on the left, a couch and a wide-screen TV in the center with the keyboard tucked into a corner, and an eating space to the right, attached to a mini kitchen.

Then a small bathroom with navy bath mats and a door cracked open at the far right—his bedroom.

My insides clench with delicious anticipation, thinking of being with Jake inside that room.

“We never got around to taking pictures,” I say, turning towards him, but then Jake surprises me by pulling me into a hug.

His warm, strong arms enfold me, and I’m overwhelmed by how safe and happy I feel. Not to mention I’m suddenly hyper aware of how sexy he is.

“Hi,” Jake murmurs, looking down at me.

“Hi.” I fall into his clear, gray-eyed gaze, watching the skin around his eyes crinkle with laughter lines.

“Long time no see,” Jake laughs, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “But I’m so glad you’re here. ”

“Me too,” I say, inhaling his spicy, woodsy scent. My head is spinning in the best of ways.

I pull back a little. Time to use my voice to ask for what I want.

“Jake?”

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me.”

After gazing into my eyes for a moment to make sure I really mean it, Jake presses his mouth to mine.

A delicious tingle spreads over my entire body from his gentle kiss.

Tugging him closer, I groan when the tips of my breasts graze his shirt; my nipples are hard, painful nubs.

As he tugs my bottom lip gently with his teeth, I light up like a firework.

If I’m completely honest with myself, I’ve been waiting for this moment since the first time we met, and it’s better than I could have ever imagined in my wildest dreams.

Jake gently takes out my ponytail holder and runs his hands through my hair. I love the sensation of his fingers on my scalp; the pressure from his fingers sends waves of pleasure throughout my body.

Surprising myself with my directness, I drag Jake to the couch and push him down onto it. His eyes widen as I clamber on top of his lap, feeling his hardness press against my dampening panties.

We both moan simultaneously from the delicious friction. Jake mutters, “Fuck, Lucy, you’ll be the death of me.”

Tugging his face back to mine, my tongue tangles with his, sweeping and stroking, driving pulses of pleasure deep in my belly.

I have never been so turned on in my life.

After what seems like both an instant and an eternity of deep kisses, we come up for air.

Jake touches my cheek gently, runs his long fingers down my neck, then down to my collarbone.

“Lucy, you are so goddamned beautiful,” Jake breathes.

And I do feel beautiful.

Jake’s lips are now on my earlobe, his teeth nipping my sensitive skin, and every inch he touches is singing from his attention. I just want to inhale this man whole—I’m desperate for us to be connected.

I touch the earlobe with the stud earring. “Is there a story to this?” I ask.

Breathing hard, Jake laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “It was a dare from one of my friends back in high school, but seeing how much it pissed off my parents—well, then, I just had to keep it.”