Chapter 4

"Yeah, things can get pretty exciting in the ER sometimes, I'm not going to lie," I tell him. "But, you know, not having a burning building fall on me is exciting."

His chuckle is like deep thunder and rolls over my skin, making the hair on my arms stand up. The air in the room feels electrified. It's almost like the atmosphere right before a lightning strike. His black hair is tousled and messy, the silver flecks standing out against his dark locks and in his beard, making him look sophisticated and sexy. And as he laughs, I notice the way the corners of his eyes crinkle and the dimples in his cheeks.

I never noticed those things before—probably because I was doing my best to not notice those things. My relationship with his son was awkward enough without me adding my lust for his dad into the mix. But now that I've noticed them, I can't stop looking at them. It's been a few years since I last saw Hunter, but he's only gotten more handsome.

"So, do you spend this much time with all your patients?" he asks.

"Just the special ones."

I meant it to be funny, but the second the words cross my lips and I see the glimmer in Hunter's eyes, I realize it sounds a little flirtier than I meant it to be. The truth is that I've been finding reasons to stop by Hunter's room just to spend time talking to him. Getting to know him again, on a deeper and more mature level, has been a highlight of my shifts. And maybe I'm wrong or crazy to believe, but I think Hunter has been enjoying my visits as much as I've been enjoying spending time with him.

Marcy has encouraged the behavior, of course. She's contrived reasons to put me in his room—from sending me to adjust his meds and updating his chart to taking his vitals more often than is probably necessary. She seems to enjoy watching me chase after this man. Not that I'm not enjoying the pursuit myself if I'm being honest. Getting to know him now that I'm a little older and can relate to him in a different way than when I was dating Micah has been really nice.

"So, shall we talk about the elephant in the room?" he asks.

"And what elephant is that?"

"Micah."

"I haven't talked to Micah in years," I tell him. "As far as I'm concerned, that's not an elephant in the room."

"He's been in to see me twice now, and depending on how long you guys keep me here, it's probably only a matter of time before you run into him," he says. "I know that things between you two didn't end on the most positive note, so?—"

"He's been here three times. You were asleep once, and he didn't stay long."

"Oh, so you've seen him?"

"No," I reply. "I mean, I saw him, but he didn't see me. And I didn't want to stir up any drama, so I just hung back until he left."

"Even after all this time, you guys can't?—"

I cut him off with a shake of my head. "No. I don't think he and I will ever get to a place where we're okay enough with each other that we'll be sending each other Christmas cards."

"Wow," he says and sinks back against his pillows.

"Yeah."

"May I ask what happened? I mean, I know my kid, and I'm almost positive that whatever happened is his fault, so what did he do?"

My lips curl down into a frown as I think back to those days that seem so long ago. Memories that seem like they're from another lifetime. I'm certainly not the same person I was back then. I've grown. Evolved. I've changed and become somebody entirely new.

"I'd rather not talk about it," I tell him.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"No," I reply. "Some things are better left in the past."

My relationship with Micah was great for the first few months. I thought he was fun. Clever. Witty. He was a goofball and enjoyable to be around. But then things started to change. He started to change. He got mean. He could be absolutely cruel and cutting and never missed a chance to put me down. He never liked that I had ambition. He resented me for having plans and wanting to build a future for myself.

Micah was always one of the most unmotivated and uninterested people I've ever met. He has no plan for his life. And he has no goals. Nothing he wants to achieve. At least, he never did. Back then, all he wanted to do was surf all day and smoke weed all night. And because I didn't share his burnout mentality, because I wanted to make something of myself and better my life, he belittled me for it.

I put up with it for far too long. Because my self-esteem and sense of self-worth were in the toilet back then, it took me a long time to work up the strength to leave him. Longer than I should have. But I eventually did. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life, but it was the best decision I ever made. It was the first decision I ever made for myself. Things with Micah got ugly. Like really ugly. But I don't regret walking away from him for a second.

The difference between Hunter and his son couldn't be starker. Hunter has always been kind to me. Whenever we talked back then, he was always thoughtful, seemed genuinely interested in me as a person, and was always encouraging. And over these past few days he's been in the hospital, I see nothing on that front has changed. As far as I can see, he's still the same man.

"Well… whatever Micah did to you, I'm sorry for it."

"There's nothing for you to be sorry for," I tell him. "But like I said, some things are better left in the past where they belong. I'm happy now and that's all that matters."

Hunter looks at me for a long moment, a curious gleam in his eyes. But then the corners of his mouth curl upward and that smile that always used to fill my belly with butterflies whenever I saw him crosses his lips.

"You do seem happy. You seem content," he says. "It's something I never saw in you back then. That's nice to see, Harlow."

"Thank you. It's nice to feel this way, to be honest."

And as his smile widens, that feeling of gossamer wings brushing my insides returns with even more force than when I was nineteen except this time, it's accompanied by a sultry warmth between my thighs. And as I feel myself growing uncomfortably wet, that schoolgirl crush I used to get whenever I saw Hunter evaporates and is replaced by a sense of womanly longing. It's no longer a sweet and innocent crush I feel for him, but something visceral. Something raw.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

Images of straddling him in that bed and riding him hard until we're both panting and shaking wildly from orgasms so powerful they leave us dizzy and breathless flash through my mind. It's such a powerful image. I can practically feel his long, thick rod buried deep inside of me. I can practically hear our moans and feel my orgasm splitting me down the middle. I suddenly feel like a depraved sex addict. So… no. I wouldn't exactly say I'm okay.

"I'm fine," I lie through an awkward smile. "Anyway, I should probably get back to my rounds. I'm sure Marcy is wondering where the heck I am."

"Sure. Yeah, of course. I unfortunately can't deny other patients of your wonderfully warm and healing presence," he says with that smile.

The pornographic montage flashing through my head is making my head spin so hard, I can't think—let alone form—a coherent thought, so I simply offer him a smile and a pat on the shoulder as I hurry from the room. I need to get my head on straight before I get back to work. I'm sure Marcy is going to have a field day with this.

Before I do anything else, though, I need to change out of these dripping-wet panties.