My Sweetest Sasha: Cole's Story (Meadows Shore Book 2) (9 page)

Chapter Nine

 

The sun crept lower in the sky when Cole pulled up in front of her apartment, the top down on the car. He wore a dark blue suit with a pink shirt, and a lively paisley tie. The navy suit made his eyes bluer and clearer.

When he stepped out of the car to take off his jacket, she admired how the suit skimmed his body, like it had been made for him. She’d never seen him so dressed up. He usually wore scrubs or jeans, and occasionally, if he was seeing patients in the office, dress pants that hung delectably off his hips.

He caught her checking him out. She quickly averted her eyes, but he didn’t let it pass.

“Like me in a suit?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve never seen you wear one before.”

“Not what I asked.”

“I don’t have to tell you that you look good. I’m sure you’ve passed plenty of mirrors today, and there’s no shortage of women ogling you all the time. Your haircut’s nice, too.”

He laughed. “You noticed I got my hair cut.”

“You were getting a bit scruffy.”

“Is that going in the report?”

The report—
the bloody report
, there was no escaping it.
“Just an observation. Something special happening at the hospital this evening?”

“Why do you ask?”

“The suit. I doubt you were at church, and it’s a little early to have come from a club.”

“A club? You think I go to clubs?”

“Maybe on the weekend, when you’re off. A lot of people go to clubs on the weekend.”

“Do you?”

“No. It’s not my thing.”

“And you think it’s mine?”

She shrugged.

“My idea of clubbing is to play a few games of pool with my brothers and some friends in the back room of a small bar some firefighters own in Somerville. Where my brothers can relax and let loose a little without strangers pawing over them like they own a piece, or making up shit and posting it all over the internet. Clubbing.” He shook his head.

“And for the record, Joe the barber cuts my hair. He has a red and white striped pole out front of his shop, and he uses a straight-edged razor and warm shaving cream on the back of my neck. Don’t be thinking I go to some pussified salon on Newbury Street.”

“Pussified isn’t a word.”

“It should be.”

 

* * *

 

He took his eyes off the road just long enough to capture hers, bright and sparkling, more brilliant than sapphires.

“My cousin Sophie is the executive director of an agency that supports survivors of domestic violence. Today was the dedication ceremony for their newest shelter. My brothers were all there—my whole family. That’s why I’m dressed like this.”

“Working with survivors, admirable work.”
Not like shadowing doctors to get dirt on them so they can be fired.

“Yeah. She’s an amazing woman. You might get to meet her tonight.”

Alexa looked over at him. “Tonight?”

“She’s pregnant. The baby’s due at any time. I think she’s in labor, although she denies it, but I caught her grimacing a few times this afternoon, and clutching her back. We’ll see.”

“Tell me about your brothers,” she said after a little while.

“Why?” he asked defensively.

“You adore them … It’s made me curious.”

He hesitated for a minute. He rarely talked about his brothers to anyone outside his family. There were too many people around who wouldn’t hesitate to capitalize on what he said, try to cash in on it somehow. “My brothers. They’re not perfect.”

“Unlike you?”

He reached over the center console, and playfully tugged on her hair.

“Like me, they’ve got plenty of warts. But you could scour the earth and you wouldn’t find better men. Smart, tough, and loyal, every last one.”

Just like you, she thought.

 

* * *

 

He told her stories of growing up with five brothers, describing their successes and challenges with a pride normally reserved for parents talking about their children. Despite his protestations to the contrary, she suspected he’d taken on the role of father after his parents died, and this probably contributed to the underlying tension she sensed so often.

“Will’s the junior Senator from Massachusetts. He’s brought honor back to my dad’s old seat. Mark’s a labor lawyer who’s worked on some high profile cases involving players’ unions. Drew’s the general manager of the Boston Blues, the youngest GM in all of sports. Jake’s the starting quarterback of the Hawks. And Luke’s a lawyer. He’s going to be the Attorney General one day. He’s never said it, but I know he’s got his eye on the job.”

“And Cole’s the ‘Boy Wonder’ of surgery,” she teased.

He put his head back and laughed. She loved making him laugh, easing the stress on his beautiful face.

“I was in the observation room one day when an older attending was doing teaching rounds. That’s what he called you—the ‘Boy Wonder.
’ 

Cole scoffed and shook his head.

“Yeah, I didn’t buy it either. Batman I can see, but you’d make a terrible sidekick.”

He laughed again
, and even though it was childish, more than just a little part of him was thrilled she compared him to Batman—a kick-ass superhero, saving the world one evildoer at a time.

“What did you do today?” he asked.

“I went over to the Common. Spent the afternoon with a book and a blanket. It was heaven having a day off. I don’t know how you keep up this schedule. You have incredible stamina.”

“Yeah, that’s what all the girls say. It’s a curse.”

She rolled her eyes—she’d walked right into that one.

“Are you getting paid for all the overtime you’re putting in?” he asked.

“Comp time.”

“You’ll have yourself a nice little vacation at the end of this. The Bahamas with a book, a blanket, and a bikini?”

“I may visit my family. I’ll have so much time, I can take the bus and still get in a good visit.”

His brows furrowed. “Alexa, do you have debt you’re paying off?”

She turned toward him. “What?”

“School debt? Do you owe Harvard money?”

“No. I got a full scholarship, plus some extra money for living expenses. They were very generous.”

“It’s none of my business, but are you in some sort of trouble? Gambling? Drugs?”

“No! What’s wrong with you? Why would you ask that?”

“Because you earn a good salary, a damn good salary, and you don’t spend a cent of it on yourself.”

“How do you know what I do? And you’re right, it’s none of your business,” she huffed.

She stared out the window, annoyed with him for thinking she might be in trouble, but mostly she was agitated because he had gotten too close to her personal business—her family’s personal business.

“I’m going over to check on Christian and then hang around for the rest of the afternoon and evening until they need me. If it’s quiet, why don’t we order a pizza and watch the baseball game in my office?”

He was trying to smooth things over. For a tough guy, he sure hated having her annoyed with him. She’d been trying to be sensitive to that lately.

“The Blues are playing the Twinkies. Maybe we could have a friendly wager? One that doesn’t involve money,” he added.

“Or sex,” she said giving him a cheeky look.

He clutched his heart. “Ouch! My bloated ego takes another hit, as I’m knocked off my high horse yet again. It wasn’t long ago women didn’t have to lower themselves to have sex with me because they’d lost a bet.”

“I’m sure there are several around who would still be willing. Speaking of which,” she said more tentatively, “there is something I’d like to ask you.”

“About sex?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Ask away. And I’m happy to demonstrate anything you don’t understand.”

“You have a reputation as a … the … uh … ”

“The hospital whore?”

“Your words. I would’ve said hospital playboy. It’s been more than a month since I’ve been shadowing you, and I haven’t noticed you shepherding women in and out of your office in the dark of night.” She held her breath, because she wasn’t sure what he’d say. She couldn’t bear to hear he was sneaking around the hospital with women, touching them, fondling them, behind her back. “I know it’s a highly personal question, but, given some of what I read in your file, it seems appropriate.”

He thought for a moment. “It’s fair. I’ve been with a lot of women in the hospital. But mostly it’s old news. The farther up the food chain I’ve climbed, the more people report to me, so the fewer available to play.”

He seemed deep in thought, and she wasn’t sure he would share any more with her. But just as she was about to nudge him …

“You’ve had a front row seat to my social life, or lack of one. It’s been this way for nearly a dozen years, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m human, young, and male. I’ve got all sorts of needs, just like the next guy, and over the years I’ve had many of them met by women who work at Boston General. And hopefully I’ve met a few needs along the way, too.”

The bile rose in her throat, and for a few minutes Alexa was sure she was going to throw up all over Cole’s car.

“It wasn’t just about the physical release, although it was a big factor. And none of it was life-changing. But it’s a tough environment, physically and emotionally grueling, and sometimes you need the distraction, the human contact. Even me.”

She thought about Christian, and about what Clarisse and Sue had each confided in her. It helped put what Cole was saying now, and what he wasn’t saying, into perspective. But her stomach still churned wildly.

 

* * *

 

What Cole didn’t tell her was that there were plenty of opportunities every day to hook up, opportunities he usually ignored or laughed off. He could walk over to the medicine or pediatric wards and have sex with a physician who didn’t report to him, or a nurse—women who weren’t part of his little fiefdom. But to be honest, he was tired of whoring. It left him yearning for something more. Most of the time it was hardly worth the effort it took to walk across the hospital to another wing.

“You haven’t missed a thing, if that’s what you’re wondering. What about you? Lots of boyfriends?”

“Are you writing a report?”

“No. But I’d like to know.”

“Why?”

He shrugged.

“Two. One in high school and one in college.”

“Just two?”

“They were long relationships. My high school relationship lasted two years, and my college one, three. Probably too long for someone so young.”

“That’s longer than some marriages last. No boyfriends in law school?”

She stiffened, and even though it was eighty-four degrees outside, he could feel a chill blow through the car. “What happened in law school?”

“Nothing, no boyfriends.”

“I guess I’m the only one who’s expected to be honest.”

She turned her head, pretending to look out the window, and he couldn’t see her face.

“I was lonely and had too much to drink one night. I went home with a guy from my section. That’s it. One night. End of story.”

“That’s it, huh? End of story. What were you expecting? Thought he’d take you ring shopping in the morning?”

“You’re being a jerk.”

“And you’re making way too much out of a one-night stand.” Although the thought of another guy’s hands on her hit Cole like a sucker punch to the gut. What was he expecting, that she was a virgin? And why did he care?

“You’ve had sex with three guys, I don’t think anyone’s going to accuse you of being the town slut.” He downplayed her sexual experiences for her benefit as well as his. Long relationships meant sex, lots of sex, with a guy you liked a lot, maybe even loved. He had a vise grip on the steering wheel now.

“Two guys, she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t have sex until college. And what I expected is that he would stay in my apartment for longer than ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?”

She nodded. “Could’ve been twelve, maybe nine … What I expected was that the next time he saw me in class he’d say hello, maybe smile. But instead, for the rest of the year, he looked right through me, every day, like I didn’t exist.”

“Well I guess we’ve established that he’s an asshole. I’m sorry … so sorry.” He reached for her, wanting to kill the fucker, rip him apart limb by limb, but he settled for holding her hand, stroking and massaging her palm, hoping to ease the hurt.

“Don’t be. I had sex with someone who was essentially a stranger. You’re right. I had no business having any expectations. And we shouldn’t be having this conversation, it’s not appropriate.”

She yanked her hand away from his, but he grabbed it and held on tighter. “It’s allowed. We’re not at work yet.”

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