Page 5

Chapter 4

Aria

G abriella has always been a bit of a party animal. She can down drink after drink and never get drunk, stay up until early morning and still look perfect.

But when we decided to go out tonight, I truly believed it would be a relaxed, de-stressing night, considering we’re in America for work. Alas, she never fails to prove me wrong, because I’m currently watching someone effortlessly swing on a pole, music nearly blowing my eardrums out from how close Gabriella has us sitting to the speakers.

The band she came here to see canceled last minute, but she decided to make use of her night anyway.

I keep my glass of water close—I don’t know anyone here, and I refuse to get roofied. Not only because I’d likely die, but I also need to be up early tomorrow for another meeting with Dr. Blythe.

I fix my glasses onto my head, pulling some of my hair from my face and looking around the club. The strobe lights will likely give me a migraine soon–the base from the music is literally shaking the booth beneath my ass, and I’m starting to realize how much of a moody party-pooper I’m being.

“You’re frowning so hard, Aria,” Gabs says in my ear, loud enough for me to hear over the music. “At least have one drink to lighten your mood. Please.”

I roll my eyes but laugh. “I’ll end up drunk on the floor and late for work tomorrow if I have as much as a sniff of alcohol.”

“Lightweight,” she mutters.

I flinch back as she lifts her glass to my face, my nostrils filling with the smell of her pink gin. “See?” she says. “You sniffed, and you’re still sober and moody.”

“Saturday,” I tell her. “Then I’m all yours.”

“Has Ewan been blowing up your phone?” she asks, letting her eyes scan the room.

I shake my head. “I asked him for space, and he’s giving me it.”

“Well…what’s the best way to get over someone who cheated on you?”

My shoulders slouch. “You know I’m not going to sleep with someone else. We only just broke up. Besides, he cheated on me six years ago, not recently.” Despite me only just finding out about the betrayal, it still hurt enough for me to walk away. All those years of lies just slapped me across the face.

“I don’t care if he cheated on you two hundred years ago and you just found out. He’s a snake and doesn’t deserve you. When the right person shows up, or more like trip you up, and you embarrass yourself by hitting his foot with your tampon, you’ll be ready to be fucked within an inch of your life and forget all about that cheating sleeze-bag.”

“What about Jason?”

“That’s something you need to talk to Ewan about, when you’re ready. I know you’ve basically raised him, but how will it work if you're no longer dating his dad?”

All I do is shrug and chew my lip.

She narrows her eyes behind me. “Isn’t that the extremely hot and extremely off-limits assistant you hit with said tampon?”

“I didn’t hit him with my tampon,” I retort then click on to what she just said.

I turn in my seat, my eyes landing on Tobias and Gabriella’s assistant, Justin. They’re standing at the bar, the latter talking to a girl while Tobias’ eyes are cast down to his phone screen, one hand in his pocket. He looks impatient, agitated, and god dammit, he’s hot. Definitely the type I would go for if I was swiping for a date online.

Not that I know. I’d been dating Ewan since I was a teenager, and this is the second break we’ve taken. The thought of my ex has me swallowing and ignoring the urge to call him to break my own rule.

Ewan has been trying to get back together–I’d asked him to leave me alone so I can think about things.

But I can’t go back to someone who was unfaithful, regardless of me finding out years later and raising his kid.

I take a deep breath and look away from our assistants. “Did you invite them when I said not to?”

Her eyes widen. “God, no. I wouldn’t do that to you!”

My gaze narrows as I search her face. “I believe you.”

“How did they know we were here, though?” Gabriella asks. “Ohhhh, what if he’s secretly a party boy and gets drunk off his ass while screwing everyone in sight?”

I shake my head but don’t look back at them. “It’s the closest club. They probably always come here.” Then I laugh. “I honestly can’t imagine Tobias being like that. He seems too serious.”

“You could totally test him.”

Frowning, I stare at my best friend. “Meaning?”

She winks and finishes her glass, smiling over at the pair and getting their attention. I want to tell her to stop, that we don’t need their company, but she’s already waving at them and muttering into my ear that she’s going for another drink.

I know she’s going straight to Justin, though, and I tut to myself, pulling my phone out to check the time.

I’m being a total grump and I know it. Gabriella knows it. The assistants know it, and the couple getting handy in the corner booth know it.

I'm sure he's fingering her while she tugs his zipper down and grabs his?—

"Stop staring," Tobias whispers in my ear before he takes the seat beside me in the booth. Now that he’s so close, I can see him clearly. He’s dressed in pants and a shirt that hugs every single muscle, and he smells nice–leather, I think, and a hint of something minty. I get a closer look at his bands–some for charities, two for mental health in teens, and one for a girl called Lucy.

If my memory serves me right, we have a patient on the ward with that name, and she’s currently fighting an aggressive form of cancer. Tobias spends a lot of time in her room–either reading a book to her, watching some kiddie TV show, or he’s helping her parents take fingerprints and hand casts. It was her birthday last month, and there are polaroids on her wall with him in a few.

"I'm sorry about today," Tobias says, leaning into me so I can hear him over the thundering bass. "My mother is in town and staying at my place, and she wouldn't leave me alone all day." His warm breath tickles my neck as his hand rests on the back of the booth, his fingers gently touching my shoulder. A shiver runs down my spine; it’s such a traitorous feeling, but I don’t try to pull away from his touch. It’s kind of nice.

I’m certain the music gets even louder, the bass harder, and my heart is racing so fast, I feel like I might go into cardiac arrest.

His thigh is pressed up against mine, his legs parted, one hand resting on the table, his finger tapping the wood.

I should shift to the side. I should push him away from me. But I’m not–my assistant’s body is touching mine, and I’m not revolted.

I’m most likely looking too much into this. He’s just a large man in a small booth, and I need to get a grip on my life.

"I'll make it up to you," he continues, his tone deep and…

God, his tone actually seems a bit teasing, almost flirtatious. Or is it the alcohol? Is he drunk? Why do I want to flirt back?

Screw it.

"You better," I say with narrowed eyes before smiling up at him. "Because if not, I'll find someone else."

I poke at his chest, and he snatches my wrist. Electricity rushes up my arm, heating my cheeks at the intense look in his eyes and the touch of his skin against my own.

"Is that right?" he asks, making my heart skip so fast, I stop breathing at his closeness. "Doctor Miller, don't underestimate me. I'll be the best assistant you've ever had."

"So far, I'm not impressed," I joke, raising a brow as I move back a little.

His fingers tighten around my wrist, and he pulls me closer to him. "I'll impress you. Don't worry. You tell me what it is you want, and I’ll give it to you."

Shakily, I reply, “Are you still talking about work?”

His shoulder raises in a shrug.

“You can’t flirt with me,” I say, hating my words. “It’s unprofessional and goes against the hospital’s policy.”

“Hmm,” he hums, trying to stop his smirk and failing as he releases my wrist.

Then, he goes quiet, and I nervously shift to the side to put what minimal space I can between us.

Half an hour later, Tobias and I are still in silence as we watch the crowd. Justin is talking to my friend, and I know he’s trying to get with her. It’s written all over his face with the way he keeps licking his lips, watching her mouth, the way his hand slides under the table to grab her thigh. She enjoys it. Her cheeks heat and she keeps doing that fake, flirty laugh while dropping her head onto his shoulder.

Something about Justin sends alarm bells blaring in my head, but I don’t quite know why.

Gabriella taps my shin with the pointed toe of her shoe, and I frown at how red her eyes are. “Come to the bathroom with me!”

She stumbles as she gets to her feet, latching onto my arm as we head to the bathroom.