Flirting with the Doc of Her Dreams

You’re a little slow here, Em. He’d be screaming my name.

Which didn’t tell him anything. He stared at his phone screen and tried to figure out how to reply. Before he could decide his phone buzzed again.

The woman he needs to dump his perfect girlfriend for and whisk me away for a wild weekend of really hot S-E-X. Our bodies slick with sweat and gliding against each other. His mouth on me. My mouth on him. That’s what you should have interrupted. Not that I’d have answered your text had I been doing any of those things.

Eli gulped. He was not a guy who got off on this kind of thing. He was sure of it.

Dr. Randolph doesn’t have a girlfriend, he typed. They were no longer a couple even if she had sent him the unexpected sext message. He’d thought she was okay with their break-up, but maybe he’d been wrong. Regardless, he wouldn’t be changing his mind. That he couldn’t respond to her sext message, that he had sent his fumbled attempt to a stranger, that he was more stimulated by a text conversation with that stranger than his ex-girlfriend spoke volumes.

Which was crazy. For all he knew, he could be texting with an eighty-year-old granny. Or a man.

Now, there was a buzz killer of a thought.

No, the texter had implied she was female when she’d said it was the same thing every woman wanted and when she’d said “this girl’s bedroom.” He was texting with a female. A female around his age. He was sure of it.

Dr. Randolph and Dr. Qualls broke up? When? Why haven’t you told me this? What kind of best friend are you?

He should put his phone down and not text any more. He wasn’t a man who texted with women he didn’t know. Totally not cool and not his style. He’d broken things off with his perfect girlfriend and needed to figure out what was wrong with him, not become some weirdo who texted with strangers.

Or not with a stranger. This was someone who knew him and Cassidy. Who?

A couple of weeks ago, he responded. So maybe he was a weirdo who texted with strange women.

Em, if this is your idea of a joke, I’m going to kill you.

Why would this Em person joke about him and Cassidy having broken up?

Are you sure? I hadn’t heard that and you know how everyone at the hospital gossips.

He doubted many people knew about them having broken up. Not that he cared who knew, but he hadn’t advertised the fact around the hospital. His private life wasn’t his coworkers’ business. He doubted Cassidy had told many people either.

Positive.

They’d stay broken up. He’d truly believed Cassidy to be the woman he’d spend his life with. Maybe he just hadn’t been ready for marriage; maybe when the time was right, his expectations wouldn’t be so impossible. Maybe.

They’re still friends.

Picture me rolling my eyes, Em. She was clearly in love with him. If they’re still friendly it’s because she hopes they’ll get back together.

Was that why she’d sexted him tonight? Because she’d hoped to spark physical passion and for them to get back together? Deep down, Eli knew the reasons he hadn’t proposed to Cassidy went much deeper than their lack of physical passion. Something more than sex had been missing. Which was why he knew there was a problem with him. Cassidy was his best friend, a beautiful woman, brilliant, good-hearted, and he’d broken up with her because when it came to the rest of his life, he wanted more. He was insane.

Was it also insane that he wished he could picture the texter rolling her eyes? That he’d like some visual image to go with their conversation? He had friends who’d dated via meeting someone on social media. He’d thought them nuts, but maybe there was something to the anonymity of it all that let a person step outside their normal shells. Certainly, he’d never imagined himself being intrigued by a stranger saying she wanted to tie him to a bed and lick him. But he was.

If she’s smart she’ll win him back.

Eli shook his head at his phone. Not going to happen. Ever. Until tonight he honestly hadn’t thought Cassidy wanted to win him back. She’d accepted his ending things as if she’d already come to the same conclusion.

How would you win him back?

Hell-o! I’d never have lost him to begin with, came the immediate response.

Eli laughed, liking the texter’s spunk. Yeah, he wished he had a visual to go with the messages.

I’d have him tied to my bed and at my mercy, remember?

How could I forget?

Eli closed his eyes and tried to imagine being tied to a bed. He’d never done that. Never given up control during sex, or to a woman, not that there had been that many. There hadn’t.

I guess you have heard me mention my obsession with Dr. Randolph a time or two, huh, Em? Sorry.

Obsession? With him? Who was he texting with? Was it someone who had recognized his number and was having fun at his expense?

Em. Emily. He racked his brain. The only Emilys he knew were Emily Jacobs, a bright dyed red-haired registered nurse who worked in the hospital emergency department most of the time, but occasionally filled in at ICU, and the Emily from high school who had sat behind him in chemistry, but he hadn’t seen her in years. Then again, Cravenwood was a decent-sized college town. There were probably hundreds of Emilys in the middle Tennessee area. But this one was privy to hospital gossip. Were there other Emilys at Cravenwood Hospital?

Game’s up, Em. You’ve had your fun. We both know the perfect couple are still in hotness bliss.

Eli winced at the texter’s use of the word perfect.

Maybe you’re right and I just need to forget him, the texter continued, and Eli felt her frustration in each word.

I can’t believe you chose tonight to do this. You know I just pulled two sixteen-hour shifts thanks to Leah being out sick.

Leah being out sick. Whoever this was definitely worked at the hospital with him. Bells rang in Eli’s head.

Leah Windham?

She’s the only Leah in ICU. You’ve had your fun. We’ve both got to be at the hospital early in the morning. Go kiss your hunky boyfriend and let me sleep. Goodnight, Emily.

Goodnight.

Whoever she was.

“This isn’t funny,” Beth insisted, grabbing an apple from the lunch line and wishing she could squeeze it like a stress ball. “‘Fess up. You were just telling me about that phone app that makes your number appear as someone else’s last week. I know it was you last night.”

Following closely behind her in the hospital cafeteria lunch line, her best friend snickered. “I wish it had been, but I’m telling you, it wasn’t me.”

Emily had insisted the same thing earlier in the day when she had called the ICU regarding a patient and Beth had asked about the messages. She still wasn’t convinced her friend hadn’t sent the texts. The body build was wrong for the photo to have been a posed shot of Eddie, but Emily could have easily found the picture online. It was just the kind of thing jokester Emily would do. No doubt her friend would play the prank out a bit longer.

“You should show me the text messages,” Emily said as they sat down at a table in the hospital cafeteria. Not that either of them would be able to stay there long. Beth was surprised her friend had been able to sneak away from the emergency department at all. As a nurse, one never knew if you’d actually get a lunch break or not.

“You should confess that you sent the messages.”

Emily shook her head. “Wasn’t me, I promise.” Her friend waggled her perfectly waxed brows and crossed her heart. “Hope you didn’t say anything incriminating.”

“You know exactly what I said and about whom.”

Her friend’s eyes widened. “You revealed your crush on Dr. Randolph—” her friend mouthed the name rather than speaking it out loud in case someone t overheard “—to the mystery texter? As in, you gave a name?”