My Bad Boy Doctor

5

This can not be happening. Why does Blake have to be at this bar on my birthday? Isn't he supposed to be with his beautiful wife?

For every step he takes forward, I retreat like a cornered animal. I bump into Val behind me, sighing in relief that she's got my back. She wouldn't make me talk to him, would she?

Then because life isn't fair and the cosmos hate me, Val's hands steady my shoulders and she whispers in my ear, fanning my flushed skin with her warm breath. "Kelly, what are you doing? A hot man has noticed you, and he wants to talk to you."

"But, but-" But this is Blake, the guy who called me Wanker, is too attractive for his own good, and is oh, by the way, married. Unfortunately, the explanation gets stuck in my throat, and he's right in front of me before I can run.

He looks good, dressed in a short black button-up shirt over a gray tee, stretched over his ridiculous abs. Instagram didn't do him justice. His abs don't just have abs beneath them — his stomach muscles have fucking grandbaby muscles beneath the middle muscles. He isn't Captain America or Iron Man — no, this dude is the Hulk wrapped in man-candy and whipped cream.

His beard is neatly trimmed and his smile is to die for as his eyes shine only on me. Is it possible to combust from being in the presence of a Greek god? And when he speaks, it's like every normal, intelligent thought falls out of my head, leaving me to stare like an idiot.

"Hi, Kelly. You look good."

This is the part where I'm supposed to say something, anything, starting and ending with, "you're married," but I just can't get my mouth to work.

"Say something," Val urges.

For the life of me, I can't. Our shots materialize, and Blake looks between us and the drinks before his lips turn up and he says, "Twenty-fourth huh? Mind if my friends and I join you lovely ladies?"

"Social distancing!" I blurt it out loud enough for everyone to focus their attention on me like one of those movies where the turn-tables stop and it's so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. My face is now burning — the temperature in the room must be at least the same as the heat outside. I want to run, to go home and hide in my bed, but I'm rooted to the spot.

"When I told you to say something, that's not what I had in mind," Val mutters. She steps around me, cutting my only lifeline loose, smiling innocently at this homewrecker. "Kelly's shy. Come join us."

Blake doesn't need any more prompting, and he signals the two men at the end of the bar. They pick up their drinks and join us, watching us with curious smiles. They're both appealing — one with sandy blond hair, hazel eyes, and a height to match Blake's, while the other is a few inches shorter with dark curly hair, brown eyes, and a dimple on the left cheek.

Indicating his friends, Blake introduces them, starting with the blond. "This is Brett and this is Ajay. Boys, this is Kelly and..." He pauses, silently prompting my best friend to speak.

"Val," she supplies, batting her eyelashes like a pro.

The men stare appreciatively while Blake keeps his gaze firmly on me. For the very first time, there's a man immune to Val's charm. While everyone is gawking at each other, I sneak a glance at his hand, pretending to look down out of shyness. There's no ring or a line to suggest he wears one. Is it possible I got it wrong? Or maybe Nikki is an ex-wife he's still friends with. I never actually looked at the date in the pictures.

The noise resumes, drowning out my embarrassment so it's only us again. Blake flags down the bartender, cheerfully calling out, "Three more of whatever they're having on me."

"Isn't cranberry vodka a ladies drink?" Val challenges with a smirk.

"It's Kelly's birthday," he says with a raised eyebrow. "Besides, there's no such thing as a gendered drink anymore in this day and age."