Monitored (The White Coat Series Book 3) (5 page)

“As soon as the ride stopped, I thought it would be a good time to let everyone know what I had for lunch.”

“No, you threw up?”

I nodded, feeling my cheeks flush red. How was I always finding myself in the weirdest conversations with someone that I just wanted to kiss.
 

His lips looked so kissable.

Thankfully, Alexander laughed again and didn’t run off in repulsion as I had previously assumed would happen.
 

“Well, this is your stop,” he said, leaning against the wall next to an examination room. A nurse noticed it was Alexander and walked over to us, “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, Laura. Can you just call Dr. Gerrard and tell him Alex has someone that needs to see him.”

“Of course,” she went back to her station and called Dr. Gerrard. She hung up and let us know that he would be here in a few minutes.

“Thank you,” I said.

“For?”

“Walking me over here. I probably would have just ended up in the bathroom,” I admitted, smiling at him, my right hand crossed over my front and hooked onto my left.

“No need to,” he stopped abruptly just as his phone rang through his jean pocket. He pulled it out and mouthed a sorry to me as he walked a few feet away and answered, saying hello to Blake on the other end. I saw him peek back at me and walk a few more feet away, towards the window at the end of the hallway. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it didn’t matter because I was transfixed by the way his ass looked in those jeans. It wasn’t the weird, cardboard looking butts some guys got when they bought cheap jeans. His fitted perfectly and gave him just the perfect ass, his firm thighs traveling up to his bottom. I started picturing how perfect his front must have looked.

Sky, control yourself.

He hung up and walked back over to me, smiling on his way.

“Sorry, when the boss calls I always have to answer. Scheduling stuff,” he said, brushing it off.

“Totally understand.” I noticed that Alexander still had his phone held loosely in his grip, not in his pocket.

“I do have to go now. Here, give me your number. I’ll let you know once I find those baby pictures and you can let me know as soon as you find yours.” I grabbed his phone, my heart picking up its pace as I scrolled past his cluttered home screen and put my number in.

I knew this story though, the hot guy getting the girl’s number and never texting her. It was the way life always worked, so I got my heart rate back into a normal range and resigned to the fact that at least I had plenty of mental images saved for later use.

“Will do,” I said, he took back his phone and grinned, saying another goodbye before walking around me and catching an elevator that was just closing.

He seemed to be good at that.

I waited there, not much longer, simmering in the effect Alexander had on me. I realized that during the whole walk here, I didn’t think about my situation at all. I got lost in the conversation, his scent, his voice. It all came together to create an effective distraction.

So now I stood there, waiting for another of Dr. Evan’s inside men to examine me, my body still tingling from Alexander’s presence.

I had no idea what he was doing to me, but I found myself palming the phone in my pocket, expecting a vibration.

And now the waiting game began.

DR. GERRARD WALKED ME INTO his office and sat me down on the examination bed, the one with that wrapping paper like tissue. It crackled in protest as I sat, feeling like I was getting a physical done for volleyball. Dr. Gerrard sat himself down on a black circular button of a stool and walked his way over to me, his butt still planted on the round seat. He was an older guy, skin weathered from days spent doing yard work whenever he wasn’t in the hospital, brown eyes that held more knowledge than personality.

“Dr. Evans has told me you needed a pregnancy test to confirm an at-home test?” he said, his voice having a forced sense of reassurance overlaying a clinical tone. It was weird, especially since it almost made me appreciate the warmer reception I had received with Blake. It definitely made me appreciate the steaming reception I had gotten with Alexander.

“Yes,” I said, not feeling the need to say anymore.

“Blood or urine?”

“I’ll do the blood,” I said, my hand clenching and unclenching in my lap.

“How are you feeling otherwise?” he asked, surprising me. I wasn’t expecting him to think it was sharing time.

“Fine, thanks.” I hoped that my usual response would be enough.

“It’s a big thing, unexpected pregnancies. Anyone can have any kind of justified reaction,” he went on, his fingers twining to create a hanging fist between his jogger legs. He looked like he was a runner.

“I’m feeling ok right now, actually. I was hoping we could do the test though?” I prodded gently, hoping to steer this trainwreck of a conversation in a different direction.

“Of course.” He pulled out a sterilized syringe from a nearby coral pink drawer as I held my forearm out, letting him prep me.

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

Wow, he was really digging, wasn’t he?

“Yeah, actually I have.” Leaving it at that felt like the best option.

“What’s that?” he said, looking up at me as he rubbed an alcohol pad over one of my pretty prominent veins.

I hesitated, feeling as though I was being interrogated, like something was off. This dynamic didn’t feel right, but I didn’t see any other option, and Blake did say he trusted him so that put me a little bit more at ease.

“Adoption, I think it’s the best choice for the both of us,” I said, not specifying who I included as “us."

“Interesting choice. And you’re ok with taking a hit on your studies?” he asked, plunging the needle into my vein without much forewarning. I winced, mostly at the stinging sensation, but also at what this doctor was saying, what he was trying to do. I may have seemed like a dumb, naive college student, but I had a good head on my shoulders and I was well aware of what game Dr. Gerrard was getting at.
 

“My studies will be fine, I’ve always been good at school,” dispelling whatever Gerrard was getting at.

“And that’s extremely admirable, it really is.” He placed the vial of my dark blood into a tray and scribbled on a quick label.

I slid off the examination bed and started walking towards the door before he stopped me with an “Ah!”

“Before you leave, I wanted to just talk about how you’re feeling?”

My hand came away from the doorknob as I turned to look at Gerrard, a brow raising up in confusion.
 

“I want to make sure you aren’t blaming yourself or Blake” He added Blake like an afterthought. I knew it was more. “It was just a chance occurrence that will grow to become a blessing,” he said, an empty priest standing behind his altar. I was so taken aback, I didn’t even know how to respond.

“It’s ok, Sky. Just know that no one will judge you if you choose the option that is best for you.”

This was getting to be too ridiculous. I couldn’t figure out why he was pushing this angle so hard, but I had had enough. I nodded and smiled politely, another slightly more disguised “fuck you” smile, and walked out the door, giving the nurse my contact info just before speed walking down the hall. I wanted to get home.

I was also starting to feel sick.

****

It took me some time to clean up all the glass from my apartment, Kester being locked away in my bedroom while I brushed up most of it with a small hand broom. I still wore some thick pink socks, just in case, but for the most part, I felt comfortable enough to lay down and turn off for a second.

These past few days had been so whirlwind filled that I had no time to actually relax. Finally, I had that time.

And even then I could feel my body like a tight ball of muscles, clenched from stress, my teeth clacking together from the biting anxiety. My eyelids were just lazily drifting downwards when my phone vibrated from somewhere underneath my stomach. I reached around and saw a text that painted an immediate smile across my face. There, staring back at me, was a picture of who I could have only guessed was a younger Alexander, the cutest little boy with the most crooked of teeth, dimples still beaming out behind the handle of a guitar that was raised high above his head, as though he just finished his encore performance.
 

I smiled and typed back a response.

ME

That has to be the cutest thing ever, do you still play the guitar?

ALEXANDER

Yeah, I can still play.

ME

Well, you’ll have to play for me one day.

I was feeling ballsy, the impending sleep clouding my judgement.

ALEXANDER

Invite me over.

ME

I was just about to go to sleep.

ALEXANDER

I can keep you awake…

Woh. Did I just read that right?

I typed out a response, then deleted it right after. Typed another one, deleted it just as I read it back. Lather, rinse, repeat.

“Haha, I’m sure you can ;)” No too forward.

“Oh yeah? How so?” Too coy.

“Come over and fuck me.” Yeah right.

He must have noticed I was typing and deleting my brilliant work, because he quickly typed up a response to his text.

ALEXANDER

Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend. Goodnight, talk to you later.

Shit, that was not what I wanted to happen, but now I had to play along or I would just look like a fool. I wondered if there was a psychologist that helped with flirting disorders.

And then it dawned on me.

That fucking shithead.

ME

Night! Talk to you soon :)

I hastily typed in response as I pulled out my laptop from under my bed and turned it on. I couldn’t click Google fast enough, my fingers typing away into the search bar: Dr. Gerrard.

And sure enough, the first result that shows up; Dr. Thomas Gerrard, influential psychiatrist, seen here playing golf with Dr. Blake Evans, celebrity plastic surgeon. That fucking dickbag sent me to his best friend who just so happened to be a psychiatrist. He was trying to gain more control than I had thought. It explained why Blake didn’t just do the test himself, and also why Gerrard wouldn’t quit asking me questions.
 

So now I was sure of it, Blake was scared.

I closed my laptop and wasn’t sure if I should feel happy that I was teaching him a lesson or nervous that he was becoming so scared.

I felt sick.

THE NEXT DAY CRAWLED BY in a blur, along with the day after that. Nothing much happened except for some random crying fits and excessive binge watching of past seasons from my favorite sitcom. Every time I looked at my phone, I felt like a bigger and bigger fool, recalling the texts between me and Alexander like they were emblazoned in fire above me on the ceiling. I should have just told him to come over.

And then I thought about the last time I was a spontaneous horn ball.

That stopped me from texting him back until the third day, when the “what ifs” were becoming too loud. Connor had also suggested that I just text him, extend another olive branch and see where it went. Connor seemed impressed by just my description of Alexander, so getting his stamp of approval helped in me deciding to reach out to him

I crawled out of my bed and rummaged through my dresser, looking through the third drawer to be exact. I found what I was looking for and sent him a snap, wondering instantly if I should have regretted that move.

Again, my flirting skills were pretty messed up.

I went back into bed and tried studying for my Art History test, but my mind would do everything but focus. The letters would squiggle under my sight, begging me to look around and find something else to do. I clicked on the television and hoped that some mindless reality television would take my mind off of Alexander.

Just one, huge problem; the reality show that turned on was a special teaser for Blake’s upcoming show
--
Malibu Plastic.

The asshole didn’t even live in Malibu.

I turned the television off as if it had started speaking in tongues to me.
 

What a dick, smiling in his little promo like some Real Housewives type thing. I sighed into my pillow just as my phone vibrated underneath my left hip. I moved and grabbed it, a smile drawing up my face.

ALEXANDER

This just makes you even more beautiful.

Before I could think up of another embarrassing attempt at courtship, he texted back.

ALEXANDER

Going to the Art Walk today, want to come?

My heart skipped a beat. Of course I wanted to go with him to the Art Walk. It was a two-day event where local artists would open up their studios and homes so that people could walk around and admire, or buy, their work. It was always a great time and I could only figure that it would be an incredible time with Alexander.

ME

Sure! See you there?

ALEXANDER

Sounds good. Be there in an hour.

I jumped up and began getting ready, realizing that I was about to go out on a date with someone that belonged on a billboard. I took a deep breath and shook off the butterflies that were multiplying by the dozens in the pit of my stomach. I added some mousse and tried to give my hair some more volume, making sure my blush was just the perfect amount and that my face didn’t look like a made-up doll. Thankfully my long, form-fitting black tee and leather shorts were hanging where they were supposed to be. I threw them on, tieing the shirt behind me and showing some midriff.

It was decided; today, I was going to be confident.

So confident that I was going to show off the tone belly I had gotten just before coming to college after hours at the gym.

A shape that wasn’t going to last very long.

I was pregnant.

I undid the knot and let my shirt fall.

****

“Glad you didn’t get lost in a bathroom,” Alexander teased, giving me a hug as I got out of my car. He had arrived a little earlier than me and so he was there to greet me when I drove into the parking lot. I wrapped my hands under his muscular biceps and held his shoulders, feeling them move underneath my touch as he embraced me. His distinct cologne filled the air and made my head light, his manly scent disarming me almost immediately. His smile finishing off the job.