At the pinnacle of her career, orthopedic surgeon Ava King conquers the lucrative medical field of London.
A wild and intimate night with competitive Formula One driver James Ellis ends with Ava being stood up. The rejection leads her straight into...
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Seeing Ava yesterday was as torturous as it always is and, to make matters worse, she was sick as a dog. Instinctively, I wanted to take care of her, to hold her. But I guess she's got someone else to that for her now, at least I hope she does.
I want to believe that it was only some stomach flu or something, but her eyes were sad, almost empty, and it broke my fucken heart.
It's crazy how much she's changed over a short period of time. She just seems less certain of herself, less confident... submissive.
I'm awoken at 6:30am by the intercom, only to hear, "It's Ava." I'm suddenly wide awake and in case I'm imagining things, I check the security camera and lo and behold, there she is, standing in her scrubs.
I buzz her up, scrambling out of bed; brushing my teeth while gingerly throwing on a pair of cotton pajama pants.
What is she doing here? And this early no less.
I'm instantly in panic mode, is she hurt? Maybe her car broke down? Maybe she's still really ill and can't drive home?
I arrive at the landing as the elevator opens, and I stand at the doors, keeping them open.
Ava is pale and anxious looking. Hair loose and wild, hands clammy, not even those sexy olive scrubs can distract from how disheveled she appears.
"You alright, love?"
Ava's lip does a quiver and she takes a deep breathe in. "I need you to do that thing you do that makes me feel... calm and safe and... better."
Huh?
"Sorry love, I just woke up and my blood circulation is kind of being prioritized to one appendage right now." I scratch my bedhead and snicker, "Just to be clear, you're not referring to sex, right?"
I'm relieved when Ava's lets out a snort and laughs, "No, Jamie. Not sex. I have to perform a surgery in an hour and I can't get my hands to settle. I wouldn't be here unless I was desperate. I just... I just need you to hold me."
She looks down at her feet, avoiding eye contact and I can tell she's trying her level best to not sound desperate.
"You want a hug?" I tease. "Just a no strings attached, good old-fashioned cuddle?"
She huffs in frustration but shrugs, "You did it at the anniversary party when I was panicky and again yesterday."
"Alright, alright. Quit nagging." I jab once more, before motioning for her to come forward, waving her towards me.
