Mister Romance by Amelia Simone (the reading list .txt) 📕

VirginiaRothman: No hug? I feel cheated. I wouldn’t have even charged you to let go. 

It wasn’t until after I finished cleaning up the kitchen that I saw her response.

TamraRN: Hugs not drugs. Or is it hugs are drugs? I’ll make sure you get the full dosage at the wedding.

Chapter 14 - Tamra

I felt oddly floaty in the car on the way home from Chase’s. My body buzzed with a cocktail of relief and achy desire. Dinner was delicious, and my full stomach and secured wedding date made everything rosier. Laughing together had helped me gather my courage. I’d leapt the hurdle of asking Chase to Nick and Mindy’s wedding and I hadn’t face-planted.

He hadn’t seemed that enthusiastic about the wedding, but he hadn’t told me no either. I’d take it. Even a reluctant friend-date was better than facing the family alone. I needed backup. It was a big ask, and part of me thrilled at the thought of seeing Chase again. Even time with fifty of my favorite and least favorite relatives didn’t sound so bad with him at my side. He made me laugh, and I’d need every ounce of good humor to make it through the day.

During our next shift, Gina pounced on me for details as soon as we were alone. When Tressa and Melanie were out of earshot, she leaned in with a glitter to her eyes that should have warned me she’d be merciless. She smelled prey. “So? How’d it go with Chase? What did you talk about? Is he coming to the wedding with you?”

I held up my hands to try to slow her down. “Whoa. It went well, we talked mostly about nursing, and yes, he’s coming.”

“That’s it? I want details,” she insisted.

I shrugged. Downplaying our night together seemed safest. If I acknowledged the attraction, Gina would be relentless in prodding me to hit on him at the wedding. Friends didn’t book friends bikini waxes or buy them lube. At least, not without discussing it first. It was easier to deemphasize Chase’s magnetism and how much fun I’d had at our dinner together to avoid that argument. There was only so much “help” I could stand.

“There’s not much else to tell. We’ve been messaging each other some, but it’s mostly about the wedding or nursing.”

No mention of the delicious dinner he cooked. No talk of tingles on the couch or laughing until I cried. My lips twitched at the memory before I smoothed them out.

“Well, what did his place look like? Does he have a writer’s palace?”

“Um, no. He has a nice apartment in Tacoma. His style is best described as bachelor male, with a hint of sophistication and a large sprinkling of hot mess.”

She wrinkled her nose. “So, he’s not a neat freak like you? I guess that could be character building. What did he say about the wedding?”

I tilted my head from side to side, trying to put my excitement and nerves into words without tipping her off. “Eh. He said he’d go. He seems to feel like he owes me one, but is anyone excited about going to a stranger’s wedding?”

Gina nodded, setting her short red hair dancing like a flame. “Yes. I love weddings. Straights take them for granted because they’ve always been an option. Me and Vicki? Not so much. Plus, I love cake,” she said, patting her curvy hip.

“Did anything else happen? Discovery of hidden secrets? Longing glances? Anything?”

I shifted my feet. I hoped I’d hidden my longing glances. “We talked, he cooked me dinner, and I asked him for my favor.”

I sat with my guilt at deceiving Gina for a moment before pushing it away. Talking about my feelings for Chase seemed dangerous. Not just to my bikini line, but to my heart. It was too soon.

Gina looked crestfallen for a moment before she smoothed out her disappointment and nodded knowingly. “He cooked for you. That’s a good sign. Take it from me. Marry someone who can cook. Looks fade, but hunger doesn’t.”

“Ha. Is that more life coach advice? Do you want Vicki to know you said that?”

My threat was empty, and I didn’t fool Gina. She snorted. “You know Vicki can’t cook. But bless her, she tries.”

The next week at work passed in a haze of deliveries. Dr. Sharma, an English-born anesthesiologist and resident heartbreaker, had racked up another five proposals in the nurses’ betting pool. Rumor was he’d had family visiting from the UK, and that always amped up his accent. I had deliveries with both Dr. Edwin and Dr. Truong. Truong was always my favorite; she was married with two teenagers and had a devilish sense of humor. Sometimes her jokes were a little odd, but I still loved her for trying. Her latest in between deliveries was, “Why did the doctor get called to human resources?”

Her eyes danced. “Do you give up?” At my nod, she continued, “He told his patient she had acute angina.”

I groaned. That was bad, even for Dr. Truong. Luckily, I’d gotten her to stop asking patients how much pain they were in on a scale from one to stepping on a Lego.

I spent the next four hours of my shift on Friday bouncing between two laboring patients, letting work distract me from thinking about Chase. One first-time mother had shown up with the world’s most complicated birthing plan. I admired her optimism. Should a mom have soothing monk chants and a diffuser wafting the soothing scents of chamomile and lavender during her delivery if she wanted them? Absolutely. Did she bring either of those things in her birthing bag? No. Consequently, she sent her partner shopping. At ten at night. In downtown Tacoma. He might get lucky at an all-night pharmacy, but I was worried he’d spin his wheels and strike out by missing the birth entirely. It wouldn’t be my first time playing birth partner, but I knew that they’d both be disappointed if he