Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

King

L ooking in the mirror, I grin at my reflection. "Hope you're as good-looking a bastard as your friends seem to think you are."

I run my fingers through my hair, consider shaving for a third time, but then decide against it because frankly, I look older with some facial scruff and I don't want Willa worrying about the age gap anymore. This is as good as it's going to get and I'm not about to depend on my looks to keep Willa interested anyway. I'll have to hope my genuine interest in her will be enough.

Walking through my condo, I shut off lights and nab my keys from the kitchen counter. Just as I'm walking out the door, my phone rings and I grab it from my pocket, shocked to see Emily's name on my caller ID. We haven't talked in well over a year and a half and her name is not one I ever thought I'd see again.

When we went our separate ways two years ago, she was adamant that it was over. I was brokenhearted and I think she was too. It was hard on both of us and there were moments of weakness on both sides… late-night phone calls, each hoping the other would admit to a mistake, taking turns being disappointed, but we eventually moved on.

To see her name now has me more curious than anything. It's not lost on me that I don't have that zing of adrenaline I used to have at the thought of hearing her voice.

"Emily?" I say hesitantly when I connect the call.

"Jack… hi," she says breathlessly, a little surprise in her voice. "I wasn't sure you'd answer."

I'm not sure why she'd think that. There was never bitterness or animosity, but I don't address that. Instead, I walk out of my condo, phone pinned between my ear and shoulder as I lock the door. "How are you?"

She sounds a little hesitant. "Oh, hanging in there, I guess. I ran into your parents this morning having breakfast at the Sunrise Grille while I was in town visiting my mom and dad. Guess it made me a little nostalgic."

"Are you still in Chicago?" I ask. Last I heard, she was working there as an executive assistant or something. According to the grapevine.

Pocketing my keys, I take my phone in hand again as I make my way down to the parking garage, choosing to take the stairs rather than the elevator.

"Sure am. Love it there, big city and all." Before I can say anything, she adds, "I've actually been thinking a lot about you lately."

That sets off a gamut of emotions, because I hear regret in her voice and it puts me a little on edge. There was a day I would have killed to have her admit to making a mistake by breaking things off, but now I'm wary. "Is everything okay?"

"No," she says, her voice cracking slightly. She huffs out a breath. "It's my mom. We just found out a few weeks ago that she has breast cancer."

"Oh, Jesus… I'm sorry, Em. That's awful." I really feel for her because she's super close to both her parents, same as me. I also really loved her mom. Still care for her, now that I think about it. That doesn't go away, I guess. "What does that mean?"

"She's had a mastectomy and we're waiting on the results of the lymph nodes they removed. Then radiation, maybe chemo." She goes silent, and then lets out a tiny sob. "I'm just so scared, and well… after seeing your parents today, it got me thinking about you, how you always had the best advice. You were the one who always talked me off the ledge."

Not off the ledge when you wanted to break up , I think to myself, but I banish the petty thought. I step from the stairwell into the garage and unlock the Macan as I move toward it. "Your mom's a strong lady. I'm sure she'll kick cancer's ass, and you're strong just like her. You've got this."

Emily gives a watery laugh. "I'm a hot mess right now."

"I can imagine," I say, sliding into the driver's seat. "It must be incredibly tough."

"Yeah," she murmurs. I press the ignition, and the call flips over to Bluetooth as she says, "I'm trying to stay strong for her. But it's hard. She's always been my rock and now I have to be hers."

I punch in the address to the hospital, noting that I'm going to be at least ten minutes early getting there but that's good—I hate being late. "It's okay to feel overwhelmed. Just take it one day at a time."

She's silent for a moment as I put the car into gear and head for the exit. I can almost hear her nodding on the other end. "Solid advice. That means a lot." She coughs, clears her voice. "How about you? How are you doing? I know you're with the Titans now. I can't help but follow you and your success."

There's not even a trace of bitterness as I remember she hated my success when we were together. Hated that my job took me away from her and that it was an important part of my life. And because I actually feel at peace with it all, I don't have a problem easing into friendly discussion. "Pittsburgh's a great city and I'm totally vibing with my new teammates. It's stacking up to be a solid year for us and we've all got our eyes on the playoffs."

"And um…" Emily pauses, and I can feel her silence, like an attempt to gain courage. I brace myself. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"Yeah. Actually, I am." I smile, thinking of my lunch date and that I'll be seeing Willa in less than thirty minutes.

Her voice is light, inquisitive. "Is it serious? Because you deserve to be happy."

"It's new," I admit. "I'm on my way to meet her for lunch. Third date. How about you?"

"No," she says almost wistfully. "Not seeing anyone. Painfully alone." I don't know what to say to that. The words painfully alone are pointed and have a purpose. They tug at me in a way that reminds me I cared for her very much once upon a time. Before I can even think of an appropriate response, she laughs and waves it off. "But, as you said, I'm strong and you and I both know I'll persevere."

I jump on that bravery. "You're damn right you will. I have all the faith in the world in you."

"Thanks, Jack." Her voice is grateful. "That means a lot coming from you. I respect you so much and I'm glad I can still count on you as a friend."

Relief hits me that she threw out the word friend . I jump on that, feeling the need to put boundaries in place. "I'll always be your friend, Emily."

"Do you mind if I call you sometime in the future? Just to chat. As friends, of course."

"Um… yeah, sure. Of course. You have my number."

"And you have mine," she reminds me. "I'm here if you need me at all. Take care, Jack."

"You too," I murmur, and disconnect the call.

I know where the hospital is but I keep an eye on the GPS map to monitor my timing. I replay the conversation with Emily, trying to figure out why she would call me. We haven't had contact in so long and while I understand she's upset about her mom's diagnosis, I don't understand why she's reaching out to me for support. Not that I'd begrudge her such a thing, but there's been nothing since our breakup to indicate we'd be there for each other like that. I know she's not even on my radar as someone to call if I had a problem.

Ultimately, I crank my radio and put the conversation out of my mind, chalking it up to a low moment for Emily and as she said, the nostalgia dredged up by seeing my parents. I make a mental note to call Mom and ask her about it. They adored Emily.

I focus on my excitement to see Willa, not only to spend time with her but to see her in her work environment. Yeah, it's only our third date and I don't know if there will be a fourth, but I'm strangely proud of her accomplishments.

When I arrive at the hospital, I text Willa to let her know I'm here. She responds quickly, saying she's finishing up with a patient and will meet me in a few minutes. After succinct directions from the receptionist at the main entrance, I locate the cafeteria and wait outside its double doors. Doctors, nurses and other support staff come in and out, often in pairs, talking about medical cases. A few double take when they recognize me, but no one stops to ask for an autograph.

And then there's Willa, walking down a long hallway and she just fucking takes my breath away. Her hair is pulled back into a long ponytail, highlighting her graceful lines. She's wearing her white coat, stethoscope draped around her neck and her hospital badge pinned to her chest. She looks every bit the accomplished doctor she is and shockingly, it's the first time I actually notice the age gap between us.

Well, not exactly her age but the accomplishments she's packed into those years. It's a bit humbling and again, I feel a sense of pride in her.

"Hey," she says, walking up to me with an easy smile on her face.

"Hey yourself," I reply, running my gaze down her body and back up again. "I knew you'd look hot in a white coat."

Willa snickers, tucking her hands into the pockets. "You're weird."

"I'm smitten," I correct her and motion toward the doors. "Shall we dine?"

"Let's," she replies with a tart wink and precedes me in.

The cafeteria is immense, offering a buffet of hot food items, a massive salad bar, and a made-to-order grill that serves up hamburgers, Philly cheesesteaks and the like. Willa points everything out, even nodding toward refrigerated items. "They have really good sandwiches in there and I've heard the sushi isn't half bad, but I refuse to eat it if I can't see it being prepared."

"What are you going to have?" I ask, eyeballing the grill.

"Soup and salad bar."

"Rabbit food," I say with a grimace. "I'm going to get a Philly cheesesteak."

She gives me a stern look. "As a doctor, I feel compelled to advise you that's not great for your heart."

I lean down and kiss her cheek, noting they're flushed when I pull back. "Duly noted, Dr. Montreaux. I promise I'll work it off later in bed tonight if you come over."

Those pretty cheeks turn a deeper blush and I think she might chastise me for such a bold statement in a public place, but to my surprise, she leans in with a hand to my chest. "A continuation of this date?"

I shake my head. "No, let's make it a completely separate event. I've heard if I can get a girl to the fourth date, I've got her hook, line and sinker."

Willa tips her head back and laughs, patting me on the chest. "You're cute in your confidence. Go get your food and I'll meet you at the checkout register."

It takes a bit longer since my food is made to order so Willa waits for me with a tray holding a large salad and a cup of potato soup. Once I have my sandwich and I pay for our meals, we find a booth near the entrance doors.

"It's busy in here," I note as we dig in.

Willa nods, plastic fork laden with salad. "Quick in and out but the food's not bad. So, how has your day been?"

I don't mention Emily's call and I'm not sure why. It seems irrelevant but mostly, I don't want to give it any weight. Instead, I tell her about the morning practice and an interview I had to do with a local reporter after. She fills me in on her general duties when she does rounds, lamenting about one of her older patients who was admitted for pneumonia. She doesn't divulge any confidences but expresses her genuine concern and worry, which speaks to her general empathy that she clearly has in spades. As we chat, more than one person makes the effort to say hello to Willa when they walk by, confirming she's well known and liked by many.

"Want to go out for dinner tonight?" I ask her, since she's committed to coming to my place. "You know… before we have casual sex."

I can't help but tease her about her stubborn stance on keeping things simple between us. Her eyes twinkle as she points her fork at me, I'm sure ready to hurl back a playful insult when her gaze drifts to something behind me and her eyes flare with dismay.

Willa actually sinks down in the booth and ducks her head slightly, then frowns as she curses. "Fuck."

"What?" I ask, turning around to see what has her attention.

A tall blond man wearing navy dress pants and a white button-down shirt walks toward us. He's wearing a hospital badge but I have no clue if he's a doctor. His eyes are lasered on Willa as he moves our way.

I turn back to her. "What's wrong?"

"It's my ex," she whispers, her voice tense as her gaze bores into me. She gives a wan smile. "Let me just apologize ahead of time as I'm sure he's going to be an ass."

I open my mouth to offer to run interference but then her ex-husband is standing there, staring down imperiously at Willa. His expression is a mix of annoyance and frustration and he doesn't even look at me.

"You're not returning my calls," he complains, his voice hard and bitter.

Why in the hell is he calling her? Is he trying to get back together? The flare of jealousy rises swift within me.

"Scott, this isn't the time or place to discuss this," she replies, her voice steady but strained as she nods her head my way. "I'm here with a friend."

I don't like the word friend , but I actually think she's attempting to defuse him, which is smart. I'll guess he'd be upset to know she was on a date, and I'll have to find out more about their dynamic since technically, they're divorced. She's allowed to do what she wants.

Her ex turns his attention to me, a scowl on his face, but recognition dawns and his initial annoyance shifts to shock and excitement. "Oh, wow. You're Jack Kingston."

I nod, offering my hand. "I am. Good to meet you."

Scott shakes my hand enthusiastically. "I can't believe you're sitting here. I'm a huge fan. I'm Scott Davenport. I'm an orthopedic surgeon here."

I pull my hand back, nodding across the table. "And Willa's ex-husband apparently."

It's petty but I can't help myself. I want him to know that I already know all I need to know about him.

Scott's eyes narrow slightly as he takes in the situation, his eyes cutting between me and Willa. It's a forced, silent smile he gives me. His words are clipped and I sense a quiet fury under them. "So, how do you know Willa?"

"We're dating," I reply, keeping my eyes locked on him. Despite my focus remaining on Scott, I can feel Willa tense up across the table and I wonder if she's worried he might erupt. She said he was verbally abusive but maybe it was more and just the prospect of that has my hands tightening into fists on the table.

I can see the wheels turning as he processes this and I wonder how he'll handle it. His lip lifts in a sneer, clearly no longer starstruck by me before turning to Willa. "Isn't he a little young for you?"

I internally wince, having this asshole call out Willa's biggest fear with me, but I don't wait for her to answer. "I might be a bit younger than her," I say, waiting for him to swing his attention back my way. When his eyes are locked on mine, I continue, "But what I'm not is a cheating, abusive asshole with a superiority complex and a brain too slow to know how good he has it with her."

Fire flares in his eyes and I can tell this is a man who's not used to anyone standing up to him. That gaze promises retribution and even more immediately, perhaps a scene. So I stand up from the booth, my height and brawn a distinct advantage.

"King," Willa murmurs, but I don't spare her a glance, instead noting that Scott takes a step back.

I hold my hand to him and confusion etches his face, but he takes it for a shake anyway. My other hand goes to his shoulder and I lower my voice. To anyone watching, it might appear as a friendly farewell but my words are barbed. "As long as I'm dating Willa, I suggest you leave her alone. Don't call her, don't approach her, don't even think about her."

"Or what?" he asks, his chin lifting in an attempt to look bold.

I squeeze his shoulder hard. "Or I'll make you wish you hadn't."

Releasing my hold on him, I bestow a friendly smile and nod as I sit back down in the booth. "Have a nice day."

Scott is flummoxed and he starts to look Willa's way, but I halt him. "Don't do it."

He freezes, lips pressed flat and glares at me. It only lasts a second as I stare right back at him, then he's spinning on his heel and marching away.

Willa lets out a pent-up breath and I turn to see her sag against her seat. "Hey," I say, forcing her gaze to me. "He calls or approaches you, you let me handle it, okay?"

"King… this isn't your problem."

"You let me handle it," I repeat.

"You don't owe me anything—"

"You. Let. Me. Handle. It."

Huffing out a breath of frustration, she waves her hand at me. "Fine. You can handle it." I think I've annoyed her as much as Scott, but then she gives me an impish grin. "But I have to admit, it was fun to see someone put that man in his place. I guess I owe you."

"You can pay up tonight," I suggest with a low rumble.

I expect but don't get the blush I produced earlier, and instead, her eyes go dark with interest. "I can think of a few things to make us square."

Christ, if that doesn't tighten things down below. "Like what?"

"Like you'll have to wait and see," she purrs, and then goes back to her salad. I watch her as she chews a bite, and then something strikes her funny as she starts to laugh.

"What is it?" I ask with a smile.

She shakes her head, a tiny chuckle escaping. "It's nothing. Well, actually… it's just funny that Scott always tore me down and one of his favorite ways was to mock my charms in the bedroom. It dinged my confidence and I never had the desire or urge to flirt with him." She shrugs, still smiling. "With you, that stuff just pops out easy."

"Because I think you have a better level of trust that I won't do those things to you," I suggest.

"Maybe. Maybe your youth just makes me sassy."

I stare at her a moment before busting out with a laugh. "I can't believe you just joked about our age difference. Does that mean you're accepting it?"

Her eyes twinkle as she stares back at me. "Maybe."