After a short pause, I finally found an appropriate response. “I didn’t think you were stalking me. I can’t see you putting in that kind of time.”

“That’s not true.”

“You have the attention span of a toddler.”

He grinned, his eyes bright. “What’s your name?”

“You know my name.”

“Not your work name, Jacobs. Your first name.”

I hesitated. We kept to last names at work to keep things professional. I sometimes had to work with this guy. Even if the accident had changed certain things, I had a hard time believing he was someone I could trust with my first name.

Maybe it was because I had remembered how alone I was more than once that day, or maybe I had no reason at all, but I chose to give it to the flirty paramedic who had sexy, ringless hands. “Avery.”

He shot me a dubious look. “Avery.”

I nodded, unsure if I had, in a Lortab-induced haze, mispronounced my own name.

“Avery?” he said again in disbelief.

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“Yes, why? Is that okay?”

He pointed to his chest. “Josh Avery.”

“Oh!” I said, finally understanding. “Maybe we’re related.” I was proud of myself for managing humor in my current state.

He turned up one side of his mouth, and a dimple sunk into his left cheek. “I hope not.” His thoughts were anything but innocent as his gaze bore into me.

He reached across the table, extending his hand. I barely tapped it with my fingers, but he held on to them a bit longer as I pulled away.

Even before I knew his name, I’d known Josh as Quinn Cipriani’s new partner, the charming, bed-hopping paramedic who had come out of nowhere to seduce every nurse under thirty-five in the ER. Even aware of all that, I had no choice but to be flattered.

Josh had all the traits of the modern, attractive male: the square chin, strong jaw, a celebrity smile, long lashes, and I-could-fall-in-love-with-you eyes. He always smelled like fabric softener and cheap but pleasant cologne, even nine hours into a shift—not that I’d made a point to notice.

Now he was sitting across from me, somehow still looking attractive in a worn T-shirt and mismatched athletic shorts. He watched me with a new spark in his eye, no doubt the infamous, undeniable charm I’d seen him exhibit a hundred times before. He nodded at Coco as she passed, and then turned his attention back to me, his eyes the most beautiful I’d ever seen. He was enjoying watching me squirm, shamelessly flirting with me when we both knew I looked like hell. I tried to retain my game face. It would be too embarrassing to admit to Deb that I’d giggled like one of a dozen new nurses we’d watched him win over.

“Don’t be late, Josh.”

“Are you working tonight? Maybe I’ll run into you.”

I shook my head. “Not tonight, but I’m sure we’ll cross paths again.”

The sack crackled in his hand as he scooped it up. He stood and smiled. “Cross paths? I was thinking more along the lines of dinner and movie. Maybe not a movie. You can’t talk during a movie.”

“I hate when people talk during movies.”

“Me too,” he said. “I bet we hate a lot of the same things.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“Doesn’t it?” He flashed his dimple again and then walked past me. The door chimed, and he continued down to the stoplight, turning the corner. Even though my forehead was pressed against the glass, I lost sight of him.

“Chicken fried rice and low-sodium soy,” Coco said, setting down the white sack with a red circle.

I rolled down the top of the sack and held it close, unable to stop smiling.

“Guess your bad day isn’t so bad?” Coco chirped.

I bit my lip, annoyed at how happy the last five minutes had just made me.

“Josh Avery,” Coco cooed. “I’d let him take my temperature, if you know what I mean.” I arched a brow, but she continued. “He lives three blocks down. I’m surprised you haven’t run into him here before.”

“How do you know where he lives?” I asked, still staring out the window, ignoring her crass comment. I couldn’t blame her. I’d seen countless women reduced to a puddle of mush in his presence.

“We deliver, Avery. Remember?” She sighed. “He’s cute. With all of that dark hair and the light eyes, he reminds me of the prince from The Little Mermaid. But, you know, beefier. Ooh, if you married him, you’d be Avery Avery.” She giggled and pulled at one of her tightly curled spirals. It bounced back into place.

“Marry him,” I muttered. “How absurd.” I stood and clutched the bag to my middle. A wide grin spread across my face, and despite the aches and pains from being tossed inside the Prius like a penny in a vacuum, the feeling lasted the rest of the day.

I gripped the paper sack in my fist as I jogged across the street, puddled water splashing over the toes of my sneakers. I didn’t have much time before my shift started, but I hadn’t slept at all last night and was dying for a few minutes of shut-eye.

I rubbed my empty hand mindlessly over my stomach as it growled in protest from skipping breakfast. I’d opted to spend my morning in the gym down on twenty-seventh instead of letting my imagination run wild with thoughts of Avery in the wreckage.

I took the stairs up to the second floor of my building two at a time, relishing in the burn of my calf muscles.

The key had just turned and the door had barely cracked open before Dax, my scraggly, sad excuse for a puppy, was jumping on my leg, clawing for attention.




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