Hope on the Rocks by Annabeth Albert

Six

“You’re a lifesaver,” Maria, one of our medical assistants, greeted me as I emerged from an exam room. The unexpected deluge of patients that they’d called me in for had thinned considerably, so I had a moment to chat with her as I finished up my notes on my tablet.

“It’s no problem at all.” I wasn’t faking my cheerfulness. My days off could drag on, so I seldom minded being called in for emergency coverage or being asked to handle some follow-up calls. I liked being needed, and being too busy to dwell on the previous day’s events was an excellent side benefit.

“It’s your day off. And the weather is finally warming up.” The sun filtered in through the clinic’s windows, casting a warm glow over our work area behind the exam rooms. Maria was slightly older than me, with a tired but kind face, and always on me to use my downtime rather than end up back here, even as she herself could always be relied upon to grab an extra shift in a pinch.

“I’ve still got the afternoon,” I said as I added a few more notes about the kid with a rash and the worried mother, making a point to add her to the follow-up call list. It was likely only contact dermatitis, but she’d been super concerned, and I didn’t mind spending an extra five minutes later on to put her mind at ease.

The afternoon would be enough time to make the casserole I had planned for Adam’s visit, and not having to pass the morning stewing over whether the invitation had been a good idea had been nice. The bustle of the clinic always relaxed me. Spending time around a hot guy like Adam could make me awkward and tongue-tied, but here I had years of education and practice to fall back on. Spotting a case of strep throat or a minor break masquerading as a sprain made me feel competent again. Professional.

“Big plans?” Maria asked as I clicked the tablet off and set it on the large circular desk shared by the support staff.

“After I review the call logs, you mean?” I kept my voice light. She didn’t need to know that I planned to go over the follow-up list while grating cheese and boiling pasta. I was out to our team, but she’d read far too much into the dinner invite. “I’ve also got a journal article on the latest in spotting diabetes warning signs with my name on it.”

I could catch up on my continuing ed reading while the casserole baked. As a busy urgent care center, we often straddled the line between preventative and emergency care, and I was always looking for new ways to up my game. The same curiosity that had propelled me through medical school and residency kept the job here interesting for me as there was always something new to discover or a new technique to try.

A short while later, as I prepared to leave, Maria renewed her quest, urging, “Do something fun.”

“I might.” I supposed Adam counted as fun. And unlike my usual careful plans, I didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing by inviting him over.

On my way home, I stopped for a walk on the beach. Like the clinic, this was another place I could always count on clearing my head. However, this time not even the discovery of a gorgeous piece of polished blue glass was enough distraction. Thoughts of Adam continued to hound me. I could have said thank you a million other ways, including a gift card or a pack of new T-shirts. I didn’t have to have him over. I could have simply dropped a casserole off at his place.

But I’d wanted to see him again, and I’d convinced myself that a thank-you dinner was me being noble and had nothing at all to do with him being a hot-as-sin lumberjack whose lap I wanted to curl up in like a cocker spaniel.

Thank you, Daddy. I kicked at a stray rock on the sand, but the words refused to budge. As my memories had filtered back, that one had lingered most of all, the way Daddy had felt so right on my tongue. He was hot, no question, but there was something else there, an unmistakable energy that tapped into my deepest fantasies. I’d been rude to him because I wasn’t used to being so seen, was used to keeping my desires secret.

We’re practically doctors now. I’d shut down my libido for large swathes of time during my training, but I could still remember the way one particular friend-with-occasional-benefits had sneered when I’d tentatively broached the topic of kink. His sharp words had been a reminder that I was supposed to focus on my professional life and that any stray kinky interests were best left in the past. Except my libido had never received the memo, and my porn tastes remained embarrassingly the same as they had been during my college years. Even worse, the more time passed, the more I felt vaguely ridiculous scrolling the hookup apps. As if everyone else there spoke jargon I didn’t quite understand and had experience in all the things I’d kept to fantasy land.

Like Adam. That was the other reason I’d been rude. I exhaled hard, looking out across the turquoise ocean, counting waves while I admitted to myself that I was jealous. People like Adam, who found it so easy to explore their desires, confounded me. I always managed to overthink things to the point of clicking the app shut amid worries of encountering a patient or appearing silly. I knew on an academic level that my…interests weren’t wrong nor terribly uncommon, but somehow, I seemed to have a hard time turning the theoretical into reality.

Until Adam.

It wasn’t only the alcohol that had loosened my tongue. It was him. He made me want to explore. Made me want to say yes to his hookup offer and a whole lot more. I didn’t like how out of control he made me feel and how tempted I was to throw caution to the wind. Spontaneous bad decisions from here on out. I wished it were that simple.

As I made my way back to the trail, my phone buzzed. And for all my internal rationale that this was merely a thank-you gesture, my pulse still went thready and raced, tachycardiac for no reason other than Adam’s name floating across my lock screen.

We still on? Just checking before I clock out in a bit, he asked in a text.

We’re still on. I typed quickly, then wasn’t sure what to add. I didn’t want to sound too eager, but I also didn’t want to sound distant and clipped. His wounded expression when I’d trotted out my doctor-voice had made me feel like even more of a heel. I typed and erased several options that leaned too far toward flirtatious, finally settling on, Don’t want the ingredients to go to waste. I’m looking forward to the cooking project, but I can’t eat it all alone.

I can help with that. Adam’s reply came quickly with an emoji of a character with a knife and fork, ready to eat. See you soon.

My carotid artery continued to twitch, my whole body way too eager for this dinner. My brain was only too happy to supply naughty suggestions for other things Adam could help with. Still holding my phone, I wandered over to the hookup app I almost never opened and yet couldn’t bring myself to delete. My finger hovered over the icon. I was tempted to look up Adam, see exactly what kinky things he was into, torture myself that much more. But no. I pocketed the phone before I could give in to the urge. Resisting him was going to be hard enough as it was, and worse, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to try.