9. Elle

NINE

Elle

2:43 pm

I stare at my phone, thumbs flying as I text Isabella about the chaos unfolding around me.

A pipe burst at the hospital! Water's running down my wall. They're moving everyone, but no one knows where or when.

OMG! Where are they taking you?

Back to the hospital for now. I'm waiting to hear which rehab I'll end up in. Got my stuff packed. What a nightmare.

As I hit send, a strapping, six-foot-two figure appears in my doorway. Shep. My heart does a little flip.

"Hey," he says, leaning against the doorframe, his arms across his chest. "You hanging in there? This is nutty, huh?"

"Yeah. I wondered why my therapy was canceled earlier. I didn't notice the water trickling down the wall until someone came in to tell me what was happening."

"This is a first for me. Did they tell you they are trying to find rooms for all of you in the rehab? They have to clear everyone out of here."

"She said something about moving back over to the hospital until everyone can be disseminated to their new facility. I'm waiting on transport."

"They are working on it, but that will be an act of Congress getting everyone settled. So, I came up with an unconventional idea. I already called Charlie, Dr. Hampton, to run it by him, so I wanted to see what you think."

"Okay…. I can't wait to hear this."

"I have a fairly big house with two extra bedrooms sitting empty. I live less than ten minutes from here."

I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

"You could stay at my place," he says quickly. "Just until they sort this out. You'd be close to the hospital for therapy, and it beats being crammed in here with a roommate or two or shipped off to Mississippi."

My mind reels. Stay at Shep's? The offer is both thrilling and terrifying. A million thoughts race through my head. Wouldn't it be more appropriate to stay with Isabella? Am I a crazy person for even entertaining this insane proposition?

It's not like I have a ton of options. And he is right; the idea of going back into a hospital room and, even worse, sharing it with other people sounds worse than a nightmare.

Before my logical brain can interject, my mouth opens. "If it's not too much trouble... yes. I guess that is the best solution in the short term. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"The only hitch is, my son, Opie, is still with me. It's a long story, but his mom ended up staying longer than expected."

"Oh, of course. I'm looking forward to meeting him."

"Perfect. I'm done for the day, so we can head that way if you want to grab your things. Let me go out and tell the nurse so she doesn't think you disappeared. And we can head that way."

He taps the door frame and walks off toward the nurses' station. I'm kind of dumbfounded right now. Am I really going to go to my ex's house to stay, the ex I hadn't talked to in a decade before a few days ago, the ex I've spent the last ten years trying to forget?

I need to get my mind straight. This is a nice gesture by him, a solution for an unconventional situation, nothing more. The fact that he is my ex certainly adds an awkward element to all of this, but it's only awkward if I let it be.

A day or two. I can do it if it means getting me out of this city quicker. I've got this.

8:29 pm

I'm settled into Shep's plush sofa, cradling a mug of chamomile tea as Shep tucks Opie into bed. Their muffled voices drift down the hallway, Shep's deep rumble mixing with Opie's high- pitched giggles. It's a strangely intimate moment. A warmth spreads through my chest, and all of my endorphins are operating on octane.

When Shep returns, he flops down next to me with a contented sigh. "He's finally out. Sorry about that—bedtime can be a bit of a production around here. My fault. I've spoiled him, I admit."

I shake my head, smiling. "Don't apologize. It's sweet to watch."

There's a comfortable silence between us, and I take a moment to really look around his home. It's tastefully decorated, with personal touches that speak to both his life as a doctor and as a father. A finger-painted masterpiece hangs proudly on the fridge while medical journals are stacked neatly on the coffee table.

"This is nice," I murmur, more to myself than Shep.

He turns to me, eyebrow raised. "What is?"

I gesture vaguely around us. "This. Being here. It's... peaceful." I laugh softly. "Beats being stuck in the hospital with all the beeping and constant interruptions."

Shep nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'm glad you're comfortable. I know it's a bit weird, given our history..."

"It is," I agree. "But it also feels like... I don't know, a gift? A chance to rewrite the way we ended things, maybe."

His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I'm transported back to our college days. The intensity and connection are all still there, simmering beneath the surface.

"Hey, what do you say we sit on the back porch? It's been unbearably hot during the days, but the evenings out there are surprisingly mild."

"Sure. Sounds nice."

I follow Shep out through the French doors lining the back of his den. My curiosity is piqued as he steps out, flipping a switch that turns on the pool light and another for the overhead fan. The evening air hits my skin, surprisingly pleasant after the day's scorching heat.

"Wow," I breathe, taking in the scene before me.

The covered patio is spacious, with a large stone fireplace dominating one wall. Plush outdoor furniture draws me, and I sink into the sofa, easing the tension in my shoulders. The centerpiece of the backyard is a stunning aqua pool, its surface reflecting the soft glow of strategically placed lights.

"This is gorgeous," I say, genuinely impressed. "And you're right; it's nice out here."

"I'm glad you like it. It's my favorite spot to unwind after a long day." He walks over to a small wine refrigerator on the opposite wall. "Red or white?"

"Such a treat! They didn't offer wine at UAB. How about white for the warm evening?"

"Perfect. That would have been my choice, too."

He settles beside me, leaving a respectable distance between us, and hands me the glass of liquid gold. I might think this feels romantic if I didn't know any better.

We fall into easy conversation, catching up on the years that have passed. I tell him about my job and the challenges and triumphs of the politics of working in the marine industry. He listens intently, asking thoughtful questions that show he's genuinely interested.

He shares stories about his residency, the grueling hours, and the cases that shaped him as a surgeon. I find myself leaning in, captivated by the passion in his voice when he talks about his work.

Time seems to slip away as we talk, laughing at shared memories and filling in the gaps of our lives. It's surprisingly comfortable, this rediscovered camaraderie. The initial awkwardness has melted away, replaced by a warmth that feels both familiar and new.

Shep recounts a particularly harrowing surgery and I can't help but marvel at how easy this feels. Being with him here in this moment, it's as if the years and heartache between us have faded into the background.

As he finishes a rather hilarious story of him sneezing during surgery, we both get a good laugh. We sit there, catching our breath, the laughter slowly fading but leaving a warm, happy feeling behind. In moments like this, it's easy to forget the past and enjoy being in the present with him.

A comfortable silence falls between us. The soft glow from the pool illuminates his face, and I find myself studying his chiseled features. This new rugged handsomeness he has acquired since college adds to his already striking looks.

Suddenly, he shifts closer. My breath catches as his eyes lock onto mine, filled with an intensity I remember all too well. Before I can process what's happening, he leans in.

His lips meet mine, soft yet insistent. For a split second, I'm frozen in surprise. Then, instinct takes over. My right hand reaches up, cupping his jaw as I melt into the kiss. It's both familiar and thrillingly new, with a decade of unspoken feelings pouring out in this moment.

I've dreamed of this for so long. Even after I consciously pushed them out, he would come to visit me at night. Feeling his lips on mine is exhilarating. I'm intoxicated by the smell and feel of him.

I'm hyper-aware of every sensation—the warmth of his skin under my fingers, the slight roughness on his chin, the way his hand gently cradles the back of my head. My injured hand is a useless barrier between us, hanging in my sling.

As we part, my heart races. Shep's forehead rests against mine, his breath warm on my cheek.

"Elle," he murmurs, voice husky. "I've wanted to do that since the moment I saw you in the ER."

I let out a shaky laugh, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it too."

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Is this okay? I know it's complicated, with everything..."

I nod, unable to find the right words. It's more than okay. It feels right, like coming home after a long journey. At this moment, nothing is more right.

Shep seems to sense my inner conflict. He takes my good hand in his, giving it a gentle embrace, and kisses it, his eyes never leaving mine.

I lean in and place my lips on his, giving him my answer.

The kiss deepens, and with it, the years of pent-up longing and unresolved tension come surging to the surface. It's as if we're both starving for the taste of each other, our mouths moving with a desperate urgency that speaks volumes of our shared history and the undeniable attraction that still exists between us.

Shep's hands are in my hair, tugging gently, angling my head to deepen the kiss further. I can feel the desire radiating off him in waves, and it ignites a fire within me—a fire I haven't felt in years.

My body responds instinctively, pressing against him, seeking the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of our clothes.

We're a tangle of limbs, our movements frenzied and uncoordinated as we rediscover each other. I take off my sling with reckless abandon, putting my left hand above my head and out of the way.

His hands roam over my body, exploring every curve and dip as if it's the first time.

With a swift motion, Shep lifts me onto his lap, my legs straddling his hips. The hardness of his dick presses against me, and a low moan escapes my throat. It's been so long, too long, since I've felt this kind of raw, primal need. It's both exhilarating and terrifying, the intensity of our connection threatening to consume me.

Our clothes seem to disappear with an ease that belies the urgency of our actions. Buttons pop, zippers slide down, and suddenly, nothing between us but skin and heated breaths. Shep's hands are everywhere, worshipping my body with a reverence that takes my breath away.

I can feel the cool night air on my bare skin, but I'm burning up from the inside out. Shep's gaze rakes over me, his eyes dark with lust and something else, something deeper that I'm not ready to name yet.

He enters me with a single, powerful thrust that steals the air from my lungs. It's been over a decade since we've been together like this, but our bodies remember each other. We move together in a dance as old as time, our rhythm building to a crescendo that threatens to shatter us both.

The world around us fades away until there's nothing left, but the two of us join in the most intimate way possible. Our bodies are slick with sweat, our breaths coming in ragged gasps as we chase our release.

And when it finally comes, it's like nothing I've ever experienced before. It's earth-shattering, soul-deep, and I give him all of me for a fleeting moment. There is nothing off-limits, and the relinquishing itself is dizzying.

As our breathing begins to slow and the reality of our situation starts to seep back in, I can't help but wonder what this means for us. But for now, I'm content to lie here in Shep's arms, the steady beat of his heart a soothing lullaby in the quiet night.

I wake to the soft light of dawn filtering through unfamiliar curtains. For a moment, I'm disoriented, then the events of last night come rushing back. I turn my head, and there he is, Shep, sleeping peacefully beside me.

My breath catches as I take him in. He's more handsome in repose, his robust features relaxed, dark lashes fanned against his cheeks. His thick beard, even more apparent than at the end of the day, is sexy and black, slightly darker than his thick brown hair.

The tattoos on his forearm, new since our college days, snake up his arm. This is the first time I can study them unabashedly. I resist the urge to trace them with my fingers.

A whirlwind of emotions crashes over me, leaving me breathless and dizzy. Last night was... incredible. It's better than I remembered if that's even possible.

Remembering the way he touched me, his strong hands, gentle yet insistent, send shivers down my spine.

The way he looked at me - those piercing caramel-brown eyes boring into my soul - it was like no time had passed at all. Every kiss, every caress felt both achingly familiar and thrillingly new. My body still hums with the memory of our passionate reunion, a symphony of sensations I had forgotten, experiences from another life. I can't help but wonder if this is real or just a beautiful, fleeting dream.

When I come down from admiring his physical beauty and the electricity of his touch, doubt creeps in like an unwelcome intruder, casting shadows on the blissful memories of last night. What have I done?

My heart races as I contemplate the implications of our passionate reunion. Everything about this situation is complicated. It's an intricate network of past and present that I'm not sure how to unravel.

We've not addressed what happened between us all those years ago. Neither of us seems to have the courage, or maybe it's the hutzpah, to confront the elephant in the room. The hurt, the anger, the heartbreak—it's all still there, buried beneath the surface like dormant embers, threatening to ignite at any moment.

I can feel it simmering, a messy mix of emotions that could explode if we're not careful—a powder keg.

Part of me wants to run, to protect myself from potentially reliving that devastating pain. But another part, the part that still yearns for Shep after all this time, wants to stay and see if we can have a real second chance. God, why does love have to be so damn scary?

He has a child he shares with a co-parent and a life here in Birmingham. I have my career in Florida and a life I've worked hard to build. Before we had choices, now it isn't so simple. Picking up and moving isn't that easy anymore

I'm not opposed to casual flings. God knows I've had my share. But with Shep? There's too much history and too many unresolved feelings. I don't know if I could keep things casual with him. I'm not sure I would want to.

As I watch him sleep, my heart aches with the impossibility of it all. How can something feel so right and so wrong at the same time?