Page 10 of Vicious King

“Awesome. I hope it’s delicious. Do you have the math sheets we worked on last night?”

“Probably.”

I eye him in the rearview mirror. “I hope that means yes, Charles Roman St. James.”

He smiles at me, and it melts my heart into a puddle of goo. My kid loves to push my buttons. And it’s something that I love about him.

I pull into the drop off line and Charlie unbuckles himself and blows me a kiss.

“To the moon,” he says.

“And back,” I reply the way we always do, and then he’s off, running toward his teacher, who gives me a wave.

With a sigh, I pull out and see that I have just enough time to hit the drive-through for a coffee on my way to work.

I lucked out and scored a job nursing in an urgent care that only needs me Monday through Friday from nine until four. Which means that my neighbor and best friend in the world, Mildred, picks Charlie up from school and I’m home with him soon after. I do have to pick up two Saturdays a month to make it full time, so we have insurance, but Mildred doesn’t mind hanging out with him on those days.

Having a retired grandmother right next door is a freaking miracle, and I haven’t had many of those in my life.

Just two, really.

Charlie, of course.

And Carson.

And God, I miss him so much that it hurts.

Taking a deep breath, determined not to have a meltdown on my way to work the way I usually do, I make it through the coffee stop and then head into work. I’m in blue scrubs today, my stethoscope already around my neck and coffee in hand.

“We’re already slammed,” Bethany, a fellow nurse, informs me with a cringe. “Off and running.”

She’s not kidding.

Every room is full, both doctors are running behind, and the waiting room is at capacity, which means it’s going to be a busy day. I’m glad I grabbed the coffee. It might be my only meal until dinner.

It’s the end of my day, and I’m finishing up with some notes before I head home, when he sidles up next to me at the counter in the nurses’ station.

Dr. Alex Luttrell.

“How was your day?” he asks quietly. He smells good, and he’s warm, but I know exactly why he’s here, and I barely hold back a sigh.

You were here for all of it. It was busy as fuck, what do you think?

That might come off as too brash, so instead, I reply with “Busy.”

He nods and then pushes his hand through his perfect, thick hair.

“Have dinner with me on Friday.”

I shake my head. “No thank you.”

He chuckles and shifts on his feet.

“Once a month, I work up the nerve to ask you out, and every time, you turn me down.”

“It’s our thing.” I smile at him, but he doesn’t return it. “Look, I appreciate the invitation, but you know that I’m a single mom, and my son is my priority.”

“I get it,” he replies with a nod. There’s no frustration in sight, which is a relief. But he’s also not backing down. “He should be your priority. But his mom could probably use a meal out with another adult to have a conversation. There’s no pressure for anything else. Give me two hours on Friday night. That’s it.”