Page 9 of Love Medley (Med Wreck Romance #1)

Chapter seven

Jake

A fter I return to work, I make a half-hearted attempt to focus, but my thoughts are full of Lucy.

The warmth of her skin, the sunny smile on her lips, those large brown eyes.

And then later, her cold terror, the wide-eyed panic, the fear.

Being able to help her in some small way—it moved me in a way I can’t name.

She’s gone through so much. And I can’t stop thinking about her.

There’s no chance for me here—she’s clearly out of my league.

Lucy Chang is someone my father would actually approve of, unlike me.

Why would she even give me the time of day?

I mean, Sam, my ex, even found a better replacement…

in Sterling. And of course that leads me to think of how my brother would respond to my thoughts about Lucy.

Fuck. Sterling would have a field day if he knew. If he found out I was falling over myself for a medical student, he’d laugh in my face. How ironic would that be? A med-school dropout falling for another med student?

God, I need to stop fantasizing about a woman who has obviously put up with a lot of shit from a complete asshole of an ex. I’m sure dating is not even on her mind right now.

Speaking of her ex, what kind of douchebag would terrorize a woman like that? For once, I understand what would lead a man to hit someone. I could definitely smash this motherfucker in the face and not even feel bad about it.

Lucy said she was okay after her panic attack, but a sense of protectiveness overwhelms me.

While of course I'm interested in her (who wouldn’t be?), that’s besides the point.

I just want to make sure she’s okay. I know she’s tough; she left him, after all.

A lot of women stay in terrible relationships.

But meeting that abused patient must have been jarring for Lucy, a mirror to her own horrors.

I grit my teeth at the idea of this incredible woman being frightened in her own home.

On autopilot, I turn into the doctor’s bay to check on her. Just to ensure she really is all right. It would make me feel better to lay eyes on her.

Lucy is talking to a tall blonde guy; she’s hunched over, like she’s trying to make herself smaller.

Realizing instinctively that this is the asshole, I force myself to remain calm, clenching my fists at my sides.

If I approach them, everything will go sideways.

I doubt I’d be able to stop myself from pummeling him.

And does Lucy want me to get in between them?

Probably not. She’s technically safe at the moment, out in the open.

I never want her to feel like I’m encroaching on her space.

The last thing she needs is another Neanderthal going ballistic on her.

Lucy meets my gaze for a moment. Before she can look away, I nod at her reassuringly. I hope that small gesture informs her that I’m planning to stay in the vicinity until he’s gone. The part of me that's not going feral understands that she's strong enough to deal with this asshole herself.

“You aren’t answering my calls,” I hear the douchebag say as I pretend to jot down notes on the counter. Even though this asshole is facing away from me, I can tell his molars are grinding together by his clenched jaw.

“There’s nothing to say. We aren’t together, Weston.” Lucy’s tone is guarded.

“Stop saying that. We belong together.” Weston’s words are low enough that no one can hear them other than me. He then glances down at her outfit. “Why are you wearing that color? You know it’s not flattering on you.”

My fists clench. Did that bastard actually comment on what Lucy is wearing? Her light pink flowery blouse and matching skirt look amazing on her .

“You lost the right to tell me what to wear when we broke up. Please just go away,” Lucy pleads, the resolve in her voice wavering. “Do what you came here to do and leave.”

This asswipe dictated what she could wear? Am I interpreting this wrong?

Weston grabs her arm. “Come on, Luce. We need to talk. I know we can work things out. I only want you, and you only want me. There’s a reason you haven’t dated anyone since we broke up.

Look, the Centennial Dinner is next Tuesday, and we’ve been planning to go for the past year. Let’s just keep the date.”

When I see Weston’s grubby hands on her, I inhale sharply.

I glance around at the bustling area. This douchebag is literally trying to intimidate Lucy in the middle of a public area, but somehow, no one is paying attention but me.

Lucy’s eyes dart towards me, and I wonder if she wants me to finally step in.

The moment I decide to intervene, Lucy says with a new resolve in her voice, “I am dating someone. And he’s coming with me to the Centennial.”

My heart plummets, although I’m not sure why I’m so disappointed.

I already knew I didn’t have a chance with Lucy.

It’s hardly a surprise that she’s dating someone—of course she is.

A gorgeous woman like that wouldn’t stay single for long.

And if Lucy and her boyfriend are attending the Centennial, it must be serious—that very exclusive and expensive dinner is a high-exposure event with all of the big hob-nobs of the medical community brushing shoulders.

Needless to say, a pleb like me wasn’t invited.

Anyway, all of this doesn’t matter; it’s not about me .

Weston’s face darkens. “You’re lying. Who?”

Lucy glances at me again with something in her eyes that I cannot decipher. “Jake. Jake Whitlock. And he’s right over there.”

Um, what? But then I realize what Lucy’s been trying to tell me—she’s begging me to play along.

My response is immediate—my body reacts before my mind. Before I realize it, I’m standing up from my charting and sauntering over to where they are standing. Without hesitation, I slide an arm around Lucy’s waist. She lets out an audible gasp at the contact.

That sound makes me question everything.

Does she even want this? Did I do something wrong?

And then a moment later—the sensation of her in my arms disorients me.

Fuck, this is not going to be easy. Touching Lucy is addictive, and I want to tug her even closer.

But that’s what I want—it’s more important what she wants.

Still, I’m here to play a part. I can apologize later.

“Hey babe,” I say, grateful that my voice comes out smooth and confident.

Is it second nature now, pretending to be someone I’m not?

The thought throws me, and I push it away before it can settle.

I also try not to notice that the Weston fucker has at least two inches on me and is built like a linebacker.

Weston’s nostrils flare. “Who is this guy?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. But I’m here to help defuse this situation, not accelerate it, no matter how much I want to punch this smug asshole in the face. “I work here. Who are you ? ”

Lucy is stiffening in my arms with every word I say. Do I let her go? Is it me she’s reacting to or Weston?

“Wait a fucking minute, is this a joke?” Weston looks incredulously at Lucy. “This guy is a nurse. You’re dating a male nurse ?”

I tell myself to hold steady even as I loosen my arm around Lucy just a fraction.

Lucy on the other hand juts her chin forward. “What’s wrong with Jake being a nurse? You're such an elitist jerk, Weston.”

As the words come out of her mouth, Lucy looks almost surprised by her own daring. I wonder if this is the first time she's ever stood up to Weston.

Weston’s eyes flick back and forth between us. “How long has this been going on?”

Lucy huffs, clearly wanting this exchange to end sooner rather than later. “Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s been a month.”

A dangerous light appears in Weston’s eyes. “Right. We’ll see how far this farce goes.” He sends me one more glare as he walks away.

As soon as Weston’s gone, I immediately let Lucy go. Damn, I wish I didn’t have to. She felt so fucking good in my arms, almost like she belonged there. But that’s how I feel, not her.

“Well, that accelerated quickly,” I say, trying to cover my conflicting feelings.

Lucy lets out a startled laugh, her face troubled. “That’s for sure. ”

At her expression, I’m immediately filled with self-reproach; I’m not sure what I could have done differently, but I must have overstepped.

“Sorry that I grabbed you like that without asking first. I just figured it would be more convincing if we were…uh…touching.”

God, I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have reached for her, but I was just trying to help.

Lucy’s eyes immediately clear at my words, and she shakes her head.

“You definitely did the right thing. Weston is a suspicious guy at baseline, so more is better in this case. I retroactively give you permission.” Then a furrow appears in her brow.

“I’m so sorry, Jake. I have a terrible habit of speaking first and thinking second—yet another brilliant move in a long history of poor decision-making.

I was desperate to get Weston to leave me alone, and when I saw you over there, I just blurted it out. ”

“I wanted to help.” My eyes rove over her face, studying her. She looks so downcast that the words burst out before I can stop myself. “Um…not that I'm inviting myself, but if accompanying you to that dinner would keep Weston off your back, I’m in.”

Lucy’s eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.” I wince at my own words. Lucy’s not the only one who lets their words run ahead of their brain. “Okay, maybe that’s too soon for poor Frank.”

Lucy giggles. “I looked him up. He’s doing okay. He ended up getting a cardiac cath to fix the blockage. ”

I let out a relieved breath for more than one reason. “Good. If something bad happened to him, I was going to feel like a total asshole.”

I’m still shocked that I was so forward with Lucy—inviting myself to the Centennial like that. She can’t actually want to go to that dinner with someone like me. But she still has time to bail.

A thoughtful look appears on Lucy’s face. “Weston has been hounding me since we’ve broken up, and he’ll definitely be at the dinner because his father is on the Centennial committee. Maybe if he sees us together at a public event, he’ll believe that we’re really over and finally leave me alone.”

“I’d be happy to do it if you think it'd help.” And then my brain catches up with the conversation…wait, is she truly contemplating this? I hold my breath, waiting for her answer, trying not to wonder why the hell this means so much to me.

Lucy bites her lip. “Well, there will be a free full bar and a fancy dinner.”

I almost laugh at myself—fancy dinners are not exactly my jam. I've been relieved to skip the formal ones at the Whitlock mansion, after all.

But what comes out of my mouth is, “I can never refuse free food and drinks.”

Lucy takes a deep breath. “Well, if you are truly okay with this, I would really like you to be my fake date for the Centennial Dinner next Tuesday. ”

So many feelings surge through my body at her words. Excitement, anticipation, relief, and yup, confusion at what all of this means.

“I accept.”

I have no idea if I'm free then, but I'll move around things if I have to. More than a small part of me wonders what it would be like if this were a real date, not a fake one.

“Is it okay if I get your phone number so we can talk about details?” Apparently, there are definite perks to this plan—getting Lucy’s digits is a nice bonus.

“Sure thing. Here, give me your phone.”

As I hand her my cell, none other than Sam strolls by.

Of course. Perfect timing. The literal clash between my past and the woman I’m very much starting to crush on. Why does the universe seem to want a laugh at my expense?

Flushing, I wave to Sam, who waves back as she continues on, presumably to her desk. Lucy glances at us, eyebrows raised as she types in her number.

“Great, I’ll, uh, call you later?” I say, massaging the back of my neck.

Before Lucy can respond, one of the ER docs calls out, “Hey, Lucy! Why don’t you see the patient in room 5?”

“Of course, Dr. Simons! I’ll head there now,” Lucy calls out and then turns to me, shooting me a wry grin. “Duty calls. Yeah, send me the deets later.” Then she pauses. “And Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” Lucy’s eyes are warm. And then she’s gone.

Jesus. What just happened?