Every Glance (Every Life #3) (5 page)

So I started running. A lot. Then, I started using the campus weight room five days a week. For a while, I was obsessed, especially once I started seeing changes. If I wasn’t in class or doing homework, I was working out. And I thought I was doing it to make people like me more, but I actually looked forward to it. I became addicted to the endorphin rush when I pushed myself to new limits. It was pretty funny, actually. I went from being scared shitless of going out in public for fear of being picked on to the jock-type who stepped out confidently, daring someone to cross them.

Well, I tried to come across that way, anyway. I was still scared to death for a long time. I think, in some ways, I’m still that guy. I’m a little more confident with my body image, and I date a lot of gorgeous women. But there’s still that part of me that knows too well what it feels like to be pantsed in front of the whole school at a pep rally.

Yeah, true story.

That was before Sawyer and I became friends, though. People didn’t mess with me much after Sawyer came around. He was one scary dude then. To tell the truth, even after high school, he was. He was a genuinely nice guy, but there was always this undercurrent of something dark. Something menacing. But as soon as Makenna came into his life, she brought a lot of light with her. I’ve never seen Sawyer smile so much.

Rounding my block again, I glance down at my watch. I guess I’ve been lost inside my head for about forty-five minutes now, and damn, I feel better. Any my phone didn’t even ring once.

Shit. Until now.

I slow my pace to a walk and reach across to my shoulder, punching at my phone to answer.

“Dr. Hoover,” I gasp breathlessly.

“Uh, Dalton?”

The female voice sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place her.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, umm, this is Kyler. Did I call at a bad time?”

Ah, she sounds just as adorable on the phone. “No, no,” I say, trying to steady my respiration. “Just out for a run, but I’m finishing up. I’m actually just a couple houses away from being home. Is there something wrong with Simon?”

She chuckles. “Oh, no, I’m calling for personal reasons. Simon is doing great today.”

“Glad to hear it. What’s up?” I turn up my driveway, stopping to wave back at my ogling neighbor who is walking her dog down the street. There are downsides to running without a shirt. Mrs. Vance makes me feel just plain weird.

“It’s about Wednesday . . . our date?”

“Oh, okay. Do you want to cancel?”

She sighs deeply, making the phone speaker go fuzzy for a second. “No, I don’t
want
to cancel. It’s actually the last thing I want to do. But my sister has a meeting in Montgomery that night, so I’m babysitting at her house. Simon has to be in bed by nine, and she probably won’t be home until close to midnight. Can we maybe reschedule? I know your time is limited, so don’t feel obligated.”

“So she didn’t kill you, after all?”

“Thankfully, no,” Kyler says. “But if it ever happens again and you never hear from me again, you’ll know what happened to me. Uh, umm . . . not saying that I’ll be with you forever.” She growls softly. “And I’m not saying that I wouldn’t want to. I just . . . I . . . I’m shutting up now.”

“Kyler?” I allow a devious grin to curl my lips. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“A little.”

She begins to stammer again, but I stop her.

“But let me tell you a little secret. I kinda like it.” I glance down at my watch again before taking it off and setting it next to the bathroom sink. I’ll need to get back to the hospital soon.

“Well, that’s a relief since I don’t see it stopping anytime soon.”

Ah, hell. Who needs sleep? “Good. Because I have an idea. Are you busy tonight?”

“Umm, no. But I thought you were working today.”

Kicking off my shoes and stepping out of my shorts, I pull the shower curtain back and turn the water on to heat up. “I’m about to go into the hospital for a while, but if you’re not opposed to a really late dinner, I’d love to see you. As long as there isn’t too much excitement at the hospital, I’d say we could meet around nine. Is that too late for you?”

“Nine is great. I’m a night owl. Where do you want to meet? Is there someplace still open at that time?”

I’m going for broke here, so I might as well throw in all my chips. “I was thinking about Chinese takeout at my place.”

“Okaaaay,” she draws out. “Sounds like we have a date.”

“We sure do. I’ll text you my address, and I’ll also call you when I’m on my way home. If something comes up at the hospital, and I can’t get away, we may have to move dinner there. Either way, I promise to see you tonight.”

Her throaty giggle tickles my ear. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Dr. Hoover.”

Well, well. The little vixen is trying to flirt with me.

“I never do.”

WELL, SO MUCH for nine o’clock.

Thankfully, I’m finally on my way home, but nearly an hour late. And I smell faintly of whiskey-laced vomit, thanks to the drunk who came in with alcohol poisoning.

I called Kyler on my way out of the hospital, and she offered to pick up the food on her way, so I’d have time to shower. I don’t typically love the idea of letting the woman buy my food, but tonight, I’m exhausted and willing to make an exception. This one time.

Leaving the front door open in case Kyler gets here before I’m out of the shower, I make a beeline straight to my bedroom, stepping into the closet to grab some clothes, and get into the shower for the third time today. That’s pretty typical for me when I’m at the hospital most of the day, and especially so when any bodily fluids are involved.

I make it as quickly as I can, scrubbing fast but thoroughly. After shutting the water off, I listen carefully for any noises in the house, and it appears she still hasn’t made it, which gives me a few minutes to straighten everything up. I only halfway dry off, step into my shorts, and jog around the house to pick up any stray dishes or laundry. I’m typically a fairly neat guy, but I haven’t had a whole lot of time to clean the last couple of days.

When I’m satisfied that it’s as good as it’s going to get, I heft the trash bag from the container in the kitchen to take it outside, which reminds me that trash pick-up is in the morning. So I also end up rolling the bin out to the road, right as Kyler pulls into my driveway.

“You know, we could’ve done this another night,” she says, stepping out of her tiny, blue compact car, her arms loaded with takeout bags. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

I notice she isn’t looking directly at me while she speaks. She’s looking right over my shoulder at the empty lot across the street. “I still need to eat, and I’m just fine. Something wrong?”

“Uh, no.” Her eyes meet mine for about half a second before looking back over my shoulder. “Why?”

I reach out to place my index finger under her chin and turn her head slightly to me. “You’re not looking at me.”

“Well,” she sighs. Even in the darkness, I can see a deep flush on her cheeks. “To be honest, I’m trying desperately to act like I don’t notice your hair all sexy and wet and stuck up everywhere. There’s also the fact that you’re not fully clothed, and there’s still little droplets of water clinging to you. And, my
God
, I just want to touch those abs. I mean, seriously, how it is possible to be that good looking
and
to be a doctor. It shouldn’t be allowed.”

I raise a single eyebrow, trying way too hard not to laugh. “You finished being honest now?”

“God, I really hope so.”

I nod, taking the bags of food from her and leading her into the house. This is a little strange. I never let a woman I barely know come over here. Must be the sleep deprivation.

“You can go ahead and make your plate,” I offer, setting the bags on the bar and pointing across the kitchen. “There are plates in that cabinet right there. I’m going to grab a
shirt
, and then I’ll get us both a drink.”

“Mmmhmm,” she hums brightly, refusing to look in my direction again.

I’m starting to wonder if she gets out much. Or dates. Ever. Her reaction to me if seriously cracking me up, and . . . okay, a little flattering. But I’m really not all that special, so she obviously has low standards.

I could be okay with that. She’s definitely going to keep my on my toes.

After tugging my shirt over my head, I step back into the kitchen. The cool tile beneath my feet makes me wish I’d also grabbed some socks while I was in my bedroom, but I’m too tired to worry about it now.

“I’ve already gotten a plate out for you, too,” Kyler says, heaping piles of lo mein onto both plates. “Where are we sitting?”

“Couch. We can watch a movie while we eat. What do you want to drink? I have tea, a few sodas, water—”

“Wine?” she interrupts.

Damn, she’s a wine drinker. “No, I don’t keep it in the house, but I have beer. If you come over again, I’ll be sure to get whatever kind of wine you like, though.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Eww. Definitely not beer. I think I’ll just have tea, please.”

“You bet.”

Once we’re settled into the couch with our food and I turn on the television, we eat in almost perfect silence, only occasionally commenting on a commercial or asking to pass the soy sauce. I’m the kind of person that’s comfortable with silence, not feeling the need to fill every second with small talk, but I can tell Kyler isn’t like that. She keeps sneaking glances at me and tapping her toe as if she’s about to explode if something isn’t said.

“Would you like more noodles or chicken?” I ask, standing to carry my empty plate to the sink.

“Oh, no. I can barely breathe as it is. Chinese food is my guilty pleasure.”

I take both of our plates to the kitchen and load them into the dishwasher, grabbing the fortune cookies from the counter on my way back out.

“Pick one.” I hold out my hands with a cookie in each after slumping back into the couch. “But choose your fate wisely.”

She taps her chin thoughtfully, looking back and forth at each one, and then plucks the cookie from my right hand. “I’ll have you know that I’m a master at picking the good fortunes.”

“We’ll see about that,” I counter playfully, cracking the golden cookie in half to reveal the tiny slip of paper waiting inside. “Mine says, ‘If cookie unbroken, you will have good luck.’ Well, they played me, I guess.”

There’s a mischievous glint in her eye when she holds her paper up to read it. “If you read this fortune aloud, a brown eyed doctor will kiss you tonight.”

“Really?” I almost . . .
almost
lose my composure, but I recover quickly. “Well, it’s twenty minutes past midnight, so it’s technically morning now. I sure hope your date tonight doesn’t have blue eyes, or that might get awkward.”

“Don’t be dense, Dalton.” She scoots over closer, facing me.

Since she’s so worried about getting closer to me, I’m able to snatch the slip of paper held between her fingers. “Aha! Got it. Let’s see what it really says. ‘A thrilling time is in your immediate future.’” I look at her, my eyes feeling like they’re going to pop out of my head.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said that I get the best fortunes.” She’s so close I can feel her breath tickling my neck.

Oh, hell. I’m tired of trying to be the good guy tonight. If the girl wants kissed, if the girl wants a “thrilling” time, I’m more than capable of making sure she gets exactly what she wants.

I snake one hand around her back to drag her in even closer, while my other hand cups her cheek. “You definitely get the best fortunes. Now let’s see if they actually come true.”

Before I can lean all the way in to brush my lips against hers, she meets me halfway in an urgent, lip-bruising kiss. Both of her hands immediately fist into my hair, giving it just a little tug, all while she stands on her knees and throws one leg over my lap.

I
was
going for the sweet first kiss kind of thing, but she’s clearly way ahead of me. Waaaaay ahead. The only option I have is to either put on the brakes or catch up.

Pssh…like there’s even a question.

Since Kyler is now in my lap, I reach around, grabbing and pulling her all the way up until our stomachs are touching. A soft, muffled groan escaping her throat tells me she feels exactly what’s beneath her.

Her tongue is frantic in my mouth, searching and exploring for everything and nothing at all. And her hands want to join in the crusade. She slips one hand down the back of my shirt to massage along the length of my spine, while the other hand finds its way up my sleeve to grip my shoulder. And just as I’m sliding my hand underneath her shirt, she pulls back from me.

Kyler’s eyes are wild and boring into me with unrivaled intensity. “This isn’t moving too fast for you, is it?”

“Pretty sure that’s a guy’s line, sweetheart.”

She quirks up one side of her mouth. “Usually, but I’m the one who kinda jumped
you.
I had good intentions when you asked me to come over here. I really did. But I keep picturing you without a shirt on, and it’s all I can think about. My memory seems to be failing me, though. Mind if I get another look?”