Bye-Bye Jerk, Hello Mr. Right

Screwed her over? © 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

I frowned, sending back a quick: [?]

Lena’s reply came in hot: [Nate’s here!]

Oh, the hotel stunt. I smirked, fingers flying across the screen: [Hope you enjoy the romantic alone time I created for you guys.]

Lena: [Romantic, my ass! I’m about to go into surgery!]

Me: […]

***

Lena wasn’t kidding, and no, the surgery wasn’t some lame excuse to dodge Nate–it was real.

Sure, she could’ve handed it off to another doctor, but nope.

This was her subtle way of saying, ‘Guess what, Nate? The universe doesn’t orbit around you.‘

Why should she rearrange her whole life just because he finally decided to pop back in after ghosting her for months in favor of work?

By the time she wrapped up, it was already pushing 11 p.m.

Her first move? Check her phone. Maybe Nate had sent a text–or even a string of desperate ones.

But

nope.

Nada. The notification bar was a wasteland.

She tapped on their chat. The conversation hadn’t moved an inch since his earlier ‘I’m back‘ message.

Seriously? Not even a how was it going after all these hours?

Was he actually mad about the whole hotel stunt?

Holding her phone, Lena mulled over the empty chat as she made her way to the nurses‘ station to update them on the latest.

Once that was done, she headed for the break room.

But the second she pushed the door open, she froze.

The lights were still on. And there, lounging on the couch was Nate. Polo shirt, tailored slacks– classic I’m- important–but–effortless Nate.

Nate looked up. “Was the surgery successful?”

Lena snapped out of her daze. “Oh, yeah! It went fine. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Uh, I was actually gonna come find you. Like, in a bit.”

“Would you have?” Nate’s tone carried a subtle intensity, pressing her for an answer.

She let out an awkward laugh. If she was being honest? Not a chance.

“I was just about to shower and, y’know, change,” she mumbled, jerking her thumb toward the bathroom.

But before she could make a break for it, his voice stopped her cold. “If you have sexual needs, why didn’t you tell me?”

She tripped over her own feet, barely managing to stay upright.

When she looked up, he was already moving toward her, closing the gap between them. His gaze locked onto hers. “We’re together, Lena. That means we don’t hold back–not with emotions, not with… physical ones too.”

Lena, who’d seen and heard it all as a gynecologist, suddenly felt way out of her depth.

“I… I don’t need anything,” she stammered, bolting for the bathroom.

“But I do.”

She froze, panic throwing off her coordination as she smacked right into the bathroom door with a loud thud.

Nate was at her side in seconds, his hand cradling the red mark on her forehead. He leaned in, gently blowing on it, his warm breath making her pulse go haywire.

Even after “everything” they’d been through overseas, moments like this still left her fumbling.

“I’ll wait outside,” he said softly, stepping out.

Lena slumped against the door, face in her hands.

When Lena stepped out of the shower, Nate was nowhere in the break room. She changed into fresh clothes and wandered into the hall, spotting him sitting on a bench. He looked totally zoned out, staring at nothing.

She walked over, and his eyes met hers for a second before he stood up. Without warning, he reached out and ran his fingers through her damp hair. “Why didn’t you dry this?”

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting,” she admitted.

“You don’t have to rush,” he said, his tone soft but kinda bossy. “Dry it next time. I don’t want you catching a cold.

“1

Before she could protest, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the break room.

Grabbing the blow dryer, he started drying her hair himself.

The steady hum filled the room. She opened her mouth a couple of times to bring up the hotel stunt, but the words just wouldn’t come out.