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Jerk It Page 4


  “It’s disgustingly hot,” Soren agreed.

  I looked over at my friend, the ER doctor.

  “Where the hell have you been?” I asked. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “Work,” he grunted as he pulled again. “So fucking tired.”

  “So much for being a newlywed,” Mavis called. “Are you two even spending any time together?”

  Soren had recently married another doctor, Nola.

  Nola was an obstetrician who’d just moved to the area a few months before I’d moved back.

  She was adorably cute, pregnant just like Mavis, and so busy that I swore they never saw each other unless they passed in the halls of the hospital.

  Soren and Nola both routinely came to the early morning classes, most of the time without each other, and I got to hear all kinds of juicy details about everything.

  I liked them a lot, and I was happy to call them friends.

  Obviously, Mavis felt much the same way.

  “I had the day off yesterday, and every intention of spending the day with her, but she had a mom go into labor. I played with the dog, then went to work at PP because I was bored.” Soren panted.

  My own breathing was getting labored, but I continued to dig my heels in and push through the lethargy with only sheer determination.

  “What’s PP?” Mavis wondered.

  I answered for Soren. “PP is Parsons Parcel. Soren and his brother, Johan, purchased it a while back.”

  Mavis’s eyes widened.

  Parsons Parcel had been a failing business a few years ago.

  This year it was the fastest growing business in the area.

  But instead of saying anything, she hung the handles of the rower up, then reached down for her water bottle.

  She couldn’t get it due to the roundness of her belly, and the angle that the bottle was at, without taking her feet from the straps at the front of the machine.

  So I stopped, reached for it, and handed it to her.

  “Thanks,” she rolled her eyes.

  My lips almost twitched.

  “Don’t think that this means I like you,” I grumbled under my breath.

  Soren, obviously listening, scoffed.

  I looked over at him to see his eyebrows raised.

  He lowered his voice so only I could hear before saying, “You have the biggest damn crush I’ve ever seen. You’re not even hiding it. I haven’t seen you take your eyes off of her since I got here.”

  I started rowing again without answering.

  But he was right.

  Throughout the rest of the workout, I contemplated my situation.

  At thirty-one, I was single for a reason.

  That reason being that, any day could easily be my last.

  Which only put me in a dark mood.

  Next month I had a doctor’s appointment, and I wasn’t holding out hope.

  I rowed harder as I tried to ignore my wayward thoughts, but the sad thing was, shit always caught up to me.

  I never got to live my life, because the moment that things started to go well for me, I was always slammed into place and shown that things weren’t ever going to be okay for me.

  “Whoa, hotshot,” Soren said as he looked over at my pace. “You still have ten minutes left.”

  I looked over at him with a challenge in my eyes. “Want to race?”

  Of course, he was up to the challenge.

  And by the time we were done, we both collapsed onto the floor.

  The even worse thing?

  While I was trying to recover, my heart pounding like it was going to fall straight out of my chest and run away due to its intensity, I never noticed Mavis slip out until it was too late.

  CHAPTER 5

  You couldn’t handle me, even if I came with instructions.

  -Mavis to Murphy

  MAVIS

  One month later

  “Seven months and looking wonderful!” Fran clapped her hands.

  I rolled my eyes and practically waddled into the house where Fran was slipping her feet into no-show socks.

  “You were supposed to be waiting for me at the door,” I accused.

  She rolled her eyes. “When have I ever been on time for anything?”

  She had a point.

  “Whatever,” I muttered.

  Fran slipped her feet into her shoes, then looked at me with questions in her eyes. “Why are you grouchy? Did you forget to eat again?”

  I had. But that wasn’t why I was grouchy.

  “Well,” I paused. “So I saw him yesterday.”

  We both knew who the ‘him’ was that always made me grouchy.

  “Was he mean to you again?” she asked as she stood up and reached for her purse and phone.

  I contemplated her question.

  Was he mean to me again?

  No.

  But he’d treated me like I was nothing but a nuisance, which bothered me.

  I didn’t know what the hell I’d done to him to warrant him being so mean.

  I’d thought that we were getting over our differences, that possibly we could be friends, but his attitude yesterday when I’d seen him in the supermarket while I’d been talking with Madden had been anything but friendly.

  “Not mean, per se,” I admitted. “Ready?”

  She nodded and we both made it back out to my car, and then headed to the hospital where I had yet another doctor appointment.

  This would be the appointment that started me on twice a month until I was about four weeks away from delivering the baby. Once I reached that point, I would start in with once weekly appointments.

  Pulling into the hospital parking lot, I found a spot in the back of the lot—why was this damn parking lot always so freakin’ busy? —and walked inside with Fran who was reading something on her phone.

  We were both focused on getting inside at first and didn’t notice the big man that we were walking up on until we heard his voice.

  Both of us froze, very cognizant of who that voice belonged to.

  “…have maybe a year and a half, two at most,” Murphy rumbled. “In stage B, or two, as of right now. Most likely will be in D by the end of next year.” He paused. “They said that once in end-stage heart disease, which isn’t just yet, they’ll utilize the transplant list. They said in the next month, if not a wee bit more.”

  Fran and I looked at each other.

  We weren’t stupid.

  Both of us were nurses.

  We knew what heart failure was.

  End-stage, and needing a heart with a transplant, was significant.

  Whomever Murphy was talking about would probably die if they didn’t get a heart soon.

  I was so lost in thought, wondering who in Murphy’s life was having heart failure, that I wasn’t paying attention to the curb that was coming up until I was already tripping over it.

  I went down hard, a cry bursting from my throat at the fall.

  “Shit, Mavis!” Fran called out. “Are you okay?”

  I hit the ground so hard that I heard a sickening crack, and I prayed that whatever I’d just done didn’t mean that I’d broken anything.

  It took a whole three seconds for the pain to hit me.

  I groaned and rolled to my ass in the middle of the parking lot, looking down at my hands and knees.

  They were pouring blood.

  I winced just as I heard Murphy say, “Move!”

  I looked up to see him crouching down in front of me, and a younger man standing next to his pregnant wife glaring daggers at Murphy’s back.

  Obviously, he didn’t like being told to move.

  Duly noted.

  “Swear to God,” Murphy shook his head as he started to pull out rags from his pockets and hand them to me. “They’re clean. Press down on your knees.”

  I opened my mouth to say something more but then I was up and in Murphy’s arms, and I was gasping in surprise instead of telling him off like I’d planned.

  “Wher
e are you headed?” he asked as he jerked his head at Fran.

  Fran pointed at the front doors. “Doctor appointment. We get to see the baby today.”

  Murphy’s eyes came to meet mine, then quickly looked away.

  “Regular elevators, or the ones on the east side?” he asked.

  I opened my mouth to reply when Fran beat me to it. “These. Fourth floor. Dorado.”

  We entered into the elevators, Murphy pushing straight in without waiting for the people to get off, and then glared at them when they had the nerve to tell him he was rude.

  “You are rude,” I said as the elevators closed.

  Murphy shrugged, which caused my entire body to shift with him.

  “Do you want me to help?”

  I looked at my sister from my taller vantage point.

  “Yes,” I told her.

  I was in a very unladylike position.

  The way I had to hold my knees practically had me spreading my thighs wider just so I could reach them, thanks to my large belly.

  Fran took the rags from me, looked at them, then said, “I sure hope these were clean.”

  “Just got them out of the package today,” he said. “Had an appointment to get to.”

  Oh, boy.

  That was the perfect opening. “For you? Or for someone else?”

  He didn’t answer because the baby chose that moment to all but roll, flip, and kick at the same time.

  Right against where my belly was pressed against Murphy’s.

  “Was that…” he paused.

  “The baby? Duh, Alessio. I don’t have that bad of gas,” I teased.

  His eyes narrowed. “Why do you only call me Alessio when you’re trying to piss me off?”

  I had no answer for that.

  I didn’t know.

  It was just a defense mechanism, I guessed.

  “I do no such thing, Alessio,” I corrected him.

  He rolled his eyes right as my sister pressed hard on my knees.

  “Oww!” I cried. “You did that on purpose.”

  “You’re being mean to the man that literally swept you off your feet. And, just sayin’, Mavis, but your ass ain’t light.” She sniffed.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m one hundred and twenty-eight pounds. I’ve literally gained eight pounds. I am too light.”

  “Then why is he sweating?” Fran challenged.

  I looked up, and sure enough, Murphy was sweating. He was also breathing a little heavy.

  “You can put me down,” I urged. “You know, so you don’t drop me.”

  He grumbled underneath his breath but kept a hold of me.

  Luckily, the elevator doors slid open in the next instant, leaving us without time to argue.

  When we arrived in the suite that housed the doctors I was using, the nurse behind the glass took one look at my state and hurried to open the door for me.

  “You can place her in the exam room,” the nurse said as she pointed the way.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was as cleaned up as I was going to get, and pronounced to have scraped knees and hands, and good to go.

  It still stung like a bitch, but I could manage.

  “You can go now,” I grumbled under my breath once the nurse left to go find the chick that would be doing the sonogram for me.

  “I could,” Murphy agreed. “But I don’t like being told what to do.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him that it didn’t matter what he liked but was interrupted.

  “Is this dad?”

  My thoughts were interrupted by a woman coming into the room. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Perfect timing to come to the ultrasound today. You’ll get to see a lot of great photos. This is about the time where they’re not too big, making there room enough to see everything. But not too small that they look alienlike anymore.”

  I opened my mouth to say he wasn’t the baby’s father, but Murphy beat me to the punch and said, “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t think I should find out but…if daddy wants to know.”

  He narrowed his eyes as the woman laughed. “Lie back on that table and let’s get a good look.”

  I started to, but when I put my hand back to keep myself from falling—there was surprisingly little core strength available when you had a big basketball attached to your front—I almost collapsed all the way backward.

  I would have had Murphy not caught me.

  I glared at him. “Thanks.”

  His eyes sparkled with mirth, and I wanted to throat punch him.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I sighed and turned away, my eyes going to the screen where there was nothing as of yet.

  But then she put her wand against my belly, and there my baby was.

  “Oh, first thing you get is a foot,” she teased. “Right in the face.”

  Murphy leaned his hip against the side of the table I was leaning on, and I could feel the heat pouring off of him.

  A delicious shiver slid down my spine as I inhaled and caught the scent of pine and man.

  Most likely, he used some boring soap, but that boring soap did wonderous things on his delectable body.

  “And there is…” she paused. “His or her tush.”

  I snickered.

  “Looks like it’s a girl!”

  I grinned, unable to help myself.

  I’d wanted a girl.

  Actually, that wasn’t quite true.

  I’d wanted a boy, until my sister jokingly told me that I would have to deal with a boy and boners when they went through puberty.

  Now I wanted girls.

  For the next ten minutes we went through all the cuteness overload, eventually printing off a photo of her face, her feet, and what the sonographer said was a vagina that really only looked like a butt to me.

  But I wasn’t the expert.

  After I was once again situated, Fran took one side, and Murphy took the other, as they helped me stand to my feet.

  It physically hurt to walk.

  And by the time I was outside, I could already see blood soaking the bandage.

  We’d have to go straight home.

  “Unfortunately,” I said, “we can’t go buy clothes.” I pointed at my knees.

  “Clothes?” Murphy asked.

  I pointed at my belly next. “Now that I know what she is, I need to prepare.”

  Murphy looked at my belly.

  “I thought for sure it would be a boy,” Murphy said. “In my head, that’s what I was calling him. A boy. Guess I’ll have to get used to it being a girl.”

  He almost seemed disappointed. “Girls are cool, too, Murph!”

  I grinned at my sister’s words. “Yeah. Girls are cool, too, Alessio.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’ll see y’all later. Try not to trip over any more curbs as you watch my ass move away from you.”

  Then, I did just that, as I watched him walk away.

  Well, not trip over any curbs. But I did watch his ass.

  “You totally like him,” Fran whispered.

  “No, I don’t,” I lied. “I like Madden.”

  My sister frowned. “Do you really?”

  I shrugged.

  I mean, not like I liked Murphy, but he was a very attractive guy.

  And her thinking Madden caught my fancy served a purpose. What purpose, you ask?

  Keeping my nosey sister out of my business.

  CHAPTER 6

  The world would be a nicer place if everyone took a chill pill. It’d be a great place if a few of those people choked on it.

  -Mavis to Murphy

  MAVIS

  2 months later

  The last person that I wanted to see was him.

  Especially when I was going into labor and there was a high likelihood that he’d be seeing my coochie here in a second.

  I watched him walk toward my car, then a contraction hit me hard, and I forgot all about who was around me, because the pain overto
ok every single aspect of my brain.

  Holy shit, having babies hurt!

  I’d always assumed that I would be in a hospital with the good drugs when my time came. Not in the middle of the road, with no one around but the damn town mechanic that hated me.

  I was hunched over my steering wheel when the tap on the door came.

  I was in the middle of the road.

  Honestly, I was lucky that someone hadn’t hit me yet.

  I had a flat tire.

  I also had no spare.

  Why did I have no spare?

  Because last week, when I’d taken my car to get it inspected, the tires rotated, and everything ‘ready’ for a baby to be here any day, I’d had a slow-leaking flat.

  Since Murphy didn’t do slow-leaking flats, or tires at all, he’d switched out my tire with the spare and told me to go get it fixed.

  Only…I hadn’t.

  And now I was on the side of the road, with a flat on the donut tire he told me not to ride around on for long, and in labor.

  How did I know I was in labor?

  When I bent down to inspect my tire, a massive whoosh of water had left from between my legs, soaking my shorts, my socks, and my tennis shoes.

  Luckily, I had a plastic trash bag that I could lay on my seat.

  Unluckily, when my phone had gone to call out—Jesus Christ, why did I live so far out of town?—I’d been in a dead zone.

  I’d been hoping for the last thirty minutes that someone would stop—someone that wasn’t a complete creepo—but I’d had to send the one and only car that’d stopped along because he’d looked a little too serial killer to me.

  Out of everyone I’d been hoping to come by, Alessio Murphy Romano would’ve been last on my list.

  Because, he’d gotten worse since the time I’d seen him at the hospital, and I didn’t know why.

  When I’d arrived last week to get my car checked out, he’d been in the middle of a heated conversation with his mother about something—him not trying hard enough about something—and he hadn’t heard me come inside until I cleared my throat.

  After he’d left me in the office to go get changed so he could take me home and I could leave my car with him, his mom had made it sound like Murphy was sick. But wouldn’t tell me how.

  Which was why I asked him if he was sick and needed a rest day when he’d mentioned that he was coming to workout with me anyway and could easily take me home afterward.