“Hey, hey, hey. No. We’re not going to do this. Look. I’ll admit my live for the moment mentality is probably some fucked up way of avoiding the future, but reliving the past, dwelling on what ifs, yeah, that’s just as unhealthy. None of it matters. I just didn’t want it to randomly come up one day. Plus…” It was time to end this little trip down memory lane. I needed that smile back. “I just thought you should know why I hate doctors.” I kissed her. She moaned. Thank fuck.
“Mmm ... is that so?” She mumbled against my lips.
“Detest.” I tangled the hair at her nape this time, kissing my way down her neck. Her pulse quickened beneath my mouth. My dick responded in kind.
“Ooh, two best friends, both doctors, must be torture?” Her raspy voice sent tingles down my spine, yet her back arched.
I flipped her over in one fell swoop, loving how pliable she was. I held my weight with locked arms while her legs automatically pretzeled my waist. Her warm core sandwiched my rock hard erection against my abs. I smelled her arousal and felt my own wetness trail over my stomach. Fuck, I loved yoga. My eyes said that and a dozen other ungentlemanly things. Her breath caught and she bit her lip. Any and all thoughts of lymph nodes ... GONE.
“You want to know torture?” I wasn’t asking. “Dating was fucking torture. And since we’re over that, I’m going to fuck you now.”
She didn’t answer, she just moaned.
Sleeping in just edged its way to the top of the list of firsts this woman gave me.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” She covered my right hand that rested on the gearshift and turned down the traffic report playing on the radio. It was only a few miles, but we couldn’t afford any delays since we didn’t leave ourselves much time to get her to the airport.
I took my eyes off the road for a second to glance her way. She sat sideways, facing me with one leg tucked beneath her, looking awfully cozy in the passenger seat of my Cayenne.
“Not a thing,” I answered. Other than the fact that Sundays sucked.
“Then why do you seem a million miles away since we got in the car?”
“Not a million, Teeps, just three thousand.” I brought our joined hands to my lips and she cocked her head to the side.
“Hey, do you remember when we were kids, that one Labor Day weekend we moped around because summer was over? We had to schlep back to the city and we could only hang out on the weekends. What were we, in seventh grade? God, we were so dramatic, huh, I was probably the worst. Only child syndrome, I guess. I was so jealous that you lived a few avenues apart and were family friends. I hated being further uptown. I made it my job to come up with any reason to sleep over at Kimi’s, even on school nights. I was lonely, which was ridiculous since I saw her every day at school. And you and Chase were just across the street. You know my California friends think it’s hysterical that we went to single sex schools. The concept is completely foreign to them, like we were deprived or something.”
I raised one eyebrow in amusement. “I’d probably still be stuck in tenth grade if you were sitting next to me in class. Honest. It should be a law or something. The only thing I would’ve been deprived of was an education.” We both laughed.
When the silence returned, she sighed. “Remember the following Friday night, back in the Hamptons? How serious Kim was—had some big announcement Chase didn’t even know about?”
It was crazy how easily you forgot little things, the random stuff. I would’ve never thought twice about that September night, but when reminded the memories flooded back. We had just finished a doubles match on the Coltons’ tennis courts and we were soaking up the last of the rays before the sun went down.
“You mean when Kim threatened to rat us out to Pete for the dented fender on the town car? As if he didn’t know we took turns backing in and out of the hundred yard driveway.” I shook my head. “Remember how simple things were and how fucking stupid we were not to appreciate it?”
“Yup. Her only stipulation was that we couldn’t mention Sunday at ALL. She was tired of us ruining an entirely perfect day because of its proximity to Monday.” Her smile reached her eyes, reminiscing. “Her words, ‘there are only seven days in a week and only two belong to us, make a choice. Bitch about it being Sunday, or pretend that word never existed and make it our day.’”
“Talia, Asher, Chase and Kimi Day.” I rolled my eyes as I mumbled it, but not because I was annoyed. “TACK day.” My own stupid grin widened. Seemed cheesy as all hell at the time, but Kimi was pretty fucking smart. Besides eventually naming our band, she was the reason my initial was inked on the foot resting on the passenger seat of my car. So actually, she was brilliant.
“She was a smart cookie.” She read my mind.
“So is her best friend.” I kissed her hand again. I got the message. “Hear you loud and clear. But I’m not going to lie, I just got you back and I’m already not loving this weekend situation.” I flashed my blinker and got off at Logan Airport. No traffic. We flew here. Fuck.
I double parked at the departure gate and grabbed her small rolling suitcase from the trunk. She was already standing on the curb, shivering. I tucked her in close.
“Do me a favor, grab a pint or two of Grasshopper, and eat a cheeseburger this week. Little body fat goes a long way with insulation. Have to break you back into North East living.” She grumbled at my asinine remark and I laughed. Truth be told, she could probably have benefitted from a pound or two, which I was smart enough not to verbalize. Three sisters, hell yeah, I knew better. Not that I gave two shits what size pants she wore, as long as they were laying next to my bed. Which they wouldn’t be for another six days. Fuck, I hated Sundays.
The cabs started honking. I didn’t move; they could wait. Tal unwrapped herself, her caramel eyes locking mine, and said. “It’s not ideal, you’re right. But it’s what we’ve got right now, and I for one have no complaints about what we’ve got.” My gut lurched and I suddenly felt like an immature douche. She was right. “And the best part about being older, all seven days are ours.” She rose up and kissed my chin. “Did I forget to mention that starting this week, I’m extending my Tuesday evening office hours so I’m off Fridays?”
“Yeah? And when did you make that decision, Doc?”
“This afternoon, right after you let me sink the eight ball, and right before you bent me over the pool table.” Her eyes danced with sass.
“You trying to kill me? You obviously don’t want to get on that plane.” Our private conversation was interrupted by the lead pipe growing between us.
She went hysterical, erasing any residual heaviness surrounding her departure.
“Thought you’d appreciate the longer weekends,” she said through giggles.
“Of course, I will. To start.”
“Good. Done.” She didn’t hesitate, using my word. “Not so bad being a dermatologist and owning your own practice, huh?” Her flirtatious tone didn’t help my situation. Another cab honked louder.
“I hear there’s a shortage of skin specialists in the greater Boston area. Might be worth looking into, you know, from a business perspective.”
“Thank you for your unbiased professional insight, I’ll take it under advisement.” She tiptoed and brushed her frozen nose against mine. “But let’s start with this first, ease you in. You just figured out you wouldn’t combust on a Saturday night date. Wouldn’t want to send you into shock.”
Ouch. Guess I deserved that, but it stung like a bitch. My expression must have said it because her playful tone got more serious.