Kimberly

I walk outside the hotel and I don't even know where I'm going, I just keep moving my feet.

Tommy smells fucking incredible. Masculine. Crisp. Expensive. Whatever he is wearing was the stark opposite of Stuart. Everything about Tommy is drawing me towards him.

With Tommy, I feel wanted. Desired. But he isn't pushing me too far. He is openly flirting with me and as much as I try to reject him, I love it. It was the part of me that I haven't felt in so long coming out of the trenches to say hello. She's waving her hands in my face letting me know that she hasn't disappeared.

"Where are we going?" Tommy says, coming from behind me.

"Huh?"

He gives me that white smile, "Well, since you seem to know your way through New York, I thought that you had a plan where you were taking me to eat."

I stop dead in my tracks and look at my surroundings. I don't know where I am. All I'm doing is following my feet below me. I was too in my head to notice.

"I don't know my way around New York… and I didn't invite you," I scoff. "You invited me."

He holds his hands up, defensively, and flashes me a grin, "I'm joking, Kimberly…I'm excited to take you out. I have a place in mind. That is, if you don't mind Mediterranean."

I nod at him and follow his lead. We walk mostly in silence, which was a surprise to me. I was expecting him to be his arrogant self or one of the many versions that men usually are, but he wasn't.

"People don't usually call me Kimberly," I told him. I'm not sure why I had the need to tell him that.

"Oh, no?" He says, looking over at me. "What do they call you?"

"Kim," I say, suddenly feeling more like myself. "That's usually what my friends call me."

"Ahh, a nickname. I'm a huge fan of nicknames," He winks at me. "If I call you that, are we considered friends?"

"We'll see," I laugh.

We walk up to the restaurant and I immediately feel out of my element. People are walking out to their luxury vehicles, women are wearing long evening gowns and diamonds are hanging off their necks. This isn't the place for a girl from Angel Grove.

"Dr. Oliver," The hostess says, a wide grin on her pretty face. "Back so soon?"

Tommy nods, "It's been two months, Sammy, I wouldn't exactly call that soon."

"Well it had been three months before that," she bats her long eyelashes, "But who's counting?"

The hostess couldn't have been older than twenty-five, but she ticked off all of the boxes that I knew Tommy liked. Tall, blonde, blue-eyed… the complete opposite of what I am. She was the new-modeled fembot, up and ready for her new owner. Sammy eyed me up and down and we both silently agree that I don't belong here, in the restaurant or on Tommy's arm.

"Table for two?" She asks as she turns back to Tommy.

"That's right," he nods. "If you have the room. I know I didn't make a reservation."

"You always have a seat here," she bites her lip and I nearly snort out a laugh.

This girl could not be more obvious.

"Right this way," she nearly purrs as she walks us to a table towards the back of the restaurant. It was quieter and calmer back there, giving us more privacy.

After a moment to look over our menu, we put in our order and get a drink. It might have actually taken me longer than a moment because I was trying to decide what to order. There were no prices on the menu and I didn't want to order something that might have been too much, although I'm sure with his salary he could afford it. When our drinks arrive, I smile at the waiter and take a sip. I don't know why but my knee can't stop shaking.

"This place is fantastic. I've been coming here for years."

My brows raise, "Is that why you're so close to the hostess."

Whatever I said causes him to smirk, "Do I hear some jealousy, Ms. Hart? I didn't take you for the possessive type."

"Me?" I cackle, "Puh-lease! I don't care what or who you do, Dr. Oliver."

His gaze tells me that he doesn't believe me, and if I'm being honest with myself, I'm not sure if I believe it either. I don't care, right?

He shakes his head and reaches for his drink.

"Tell me about your kids," he says as he takes a sip.

I stop him right there, "No, sorry, but my kids are off-limits to you. They don't come out of your mouth."

"What?" He chuckles but then he notes that I'm serious, "How am I supposed to be a step-father to them if I can't know anything about them."

I throw my head back, laughing, "In your dreams."

"And apparently in yours too," He grins, "But it's fine. I'm not a big fan of kids anyway."

Lies!

I roll my eyes at him, "I'm sure all the money for the underprivileged youth you've raised has everything to do with you not liking kids."

He looks at me like he knew I had done my research.

"Are you kidding? It has everything to do with me not liking kids. Why do you think I raised money instead of spending time with them? You just pay them off and never see them again."

"Keep lying to yourself, stalker."

"You did some thorough investigating on me, I see. You seem to know everything there is to know about me, but I know little to nothing about you."

"What do you want to know?"

He seems genuinely surprised that my answer isn't sarcastic. I'm surprised myself.

"Well, for starters, what do you do for a living? I mean, I know you're in the medical field, we're at the same damn conference, but what is it that you actually do? And for the record, I have no ulterior motives other than the fact that I'm genuinely curious."

I think about it for a moment and an idea comes to mind.

"I'm an escort," I smile, "I was hired to distract a pretentious doctor."

His grin reaches his eyes, causing a crinkle to form at the corners. That's real.

"Am I the lucky doctor?"

I nod once and bring the drink to my lips.

"You know, freckles… I thought I liked you before, but knowing what you actually do for work… well, I might just be in love."

"Nothing puts you off, does it?" I chuckle.

"Not when it comes to you."

"And what's so special about me? You don't know a thing… I could be crazy."

"I know and that's why this makes it so wild. Look, this isn't my first time doing this, okay? I have the exact reputation that you think I have but I mean it when I say that I don't know why, but you seem different. I feel like a part of me knows you."

"And you do know that this is all we're going to have, right? I don't date, I don't go out, I don't do one-night stands. If you think that dinner is going to lead somewhere, then you should go back to the hotel and go get a sure thing because I'm not it."

"I'm right where I want to be, Kim."

My walls weaken at the sound of my name from his lips. It's warm. Sincere. And I feel like I'm losing my damn mind.

I pause before I begin to deliver the little anonymity that I still had for myself. I'm not sure why it mattered. Maybe it was because I lived my life in private and it wasn't shared with five million people on Instagram… I had like thirty—max!

"I'm a nurse," I say, sitting up straight in my chair.

I'm not a doctor, not a physician's assistant, or even a nurse practitioner, but my job is equally as important. I just don't have hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt.

Tommy nods, a smile curving up his lips, "The backbone of every healthcare facility. I respect the hell out of you guys. I can't do my job without the amazing nurses that do theirs."

I've met doctors that look down at my job and treat me like my years in school didn't matter due to the fact that I don't have an MD attached to my last name. They think that I'm a glorified babysitter and fetch water for the patients. It's really ridiculous because I'm the one that executes their orders.

What they fail to realize is that I'm the one that knows the patient the best. I'm the one at the bedside building a connection with them, hearing their stories about their lives, holding their hands while they take their last breath, listening while they confess their past regrets… those are the good days. On the bad days, things are different. The Emergency room is a fast-moving environment, with new faces every single day, but many of the people that come into my room don't get to move to a recovery unit or even go home, sometimes they're wheeled to the morgue and the stories that I hear, the regrets that I listen to, and the hands that I hold are no longer from the patient, but their families.

"That's right," I nod, "and any good doctor knows that."

"Why'd you get into nursing?"

I thought about it for a moment, "Because I wanted to make a difference. I want to help people and maybe make a terrifying experience just a little bit better… and you, doc?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He looks at me, brow raised. I'm not following. "It's a chick magnet."

I roll my eyes at his laugh. I know he's not being serious, but I can't help but think that there's some truth to it. Although his current status might have more to do with his incredibly good looks. It's not even fair, honestly. How can a guy have both looks and brains? He was God's favorite.

"I'm sure you have women lining up the block to be seen by you."

"Yes, actually, and it's quite infuriating. I have a hard time doing my job because of the attention I've gotten recently."

"You seem to play your role just fine, doc. All the girls want you."

"…except the one that I actually want."

Heat rises to my cheeks at his admission. I might need some air.

His gaze travels towards me, making me fidget in my seat. What the hell does he want? That's the question that has yet to be answered. But try as I might, I can't help feeling like I've known him all my life. Like we were the most acquainted strangers.

Our food arrives and I thank god for the momentary distraction. We eat mostly in silence, only stopping to make a bit of small talk about how good the food was. I can see why the prices aren't included on the menu. It has to be in the triple digits for the small portions that they give. The food is mouth-watering and I take my time chewing so that I can savor every single bite. This is probably the first and last time that I get treated to such an extravagant dinner.

"Tell me more about yourself, Kim. I want to know."

I put my fork down and look at him. "What else are you curious about?"

"Your ex."

I swallow at the mention of that man. He is truly dead to me for the way that he chose to abandon our children. Divorce me? Fine. I can live with it, but not my boys. They were crushed.

"There's nothing to say. He woke up one morning and decided he didn't want to be a father anymore," I answer with a shrug.

He sits back in his chair, "Oh, wow. I…I'm sorry. I didn't know. That must have been devastating—"

"It was and my boys are still healing from it," I answer truthfully.

"You have sons?"

Crap. I already said too much.

I nod, "I have three boys… and they are my everything. They're at home probably taking a few more years off the sitters life."

"I think I know how that is," He smirks, "I was a handful as a child."

"Can't say much has changed since then," I smile and he winks at me in return.

I don't know what it is but speaking to Tommy seems to come naturally to me. He has this way of speaking to me that breaks down the sturdy walls I have built around myself and my children. He feels safe but I know that sometimes my heart can lead me astray. It can't be trusted to make the right decision, which is why I lead with my head now.

And I'm the most headstrong person I know.

The night slipped away quickly as we enjoyed drinks and dessert. Our conversations remained light as we learned more about each other. I found out that he traveled constantly due to his influential status and I told him that I was a runner-up gymnast for the summer Olympics back in my prime. I think he was quite surprised about that one. I still think back on my time and wonder how it was possible that I was able to move my body in that way. I'm lucky if I'm able to tie my shoes now.

We laughed until our stomachs hurt and I wondered how often he did this. He said this wasn't his first rodeo and that his reputation preceded him, but how much of that is true? Probably all of it.

When his eyes looked to me, I swooned. When he smiled at me, I melted. When he reached across the table and took my hand, I heard the drumming in my ear. He was something and I was no one special.

I'm not the girl he takes back to his room. I've never been that girl, but with him, I believed I could be. If he asked me… I might just be crazy enough to say yes.

We headed back to the hotel after we had eaten everything we could fit in our stomachs. He wasn't exactly who I thought he was going to be. He was more reserved and the arrogance in him had diminished as the night progressed. I liked who he was at dinner. It was different from the man that I had met inside the airplane or the asshole that barked orders at me.

The silence between us is a first in the short time we have known each other. It was like we were both dreading for the night to end, which is a surprise to me. We just wanted another hour, a minute, a second. A moment when time was not what it has always been, something that ticked by.

He still hadn't suggested me going back to his room and I'm beginning to wonder if maybe he had come to his senses and realized I'm not someone worth pursuing.

"Thank you for tonight," I say as I see the number of my room come into view. "I didn't think I was going to enjoy myself, but I did. It's a first for me."

His head tilts to the side and I can see a grin forming on him. He loves to prove me wrong. "I knew I could break you," he teases, causing me to smile as well. "We should do it again."

I suddenly perk up.

"You really think that's a good idea?"

"Why not?" He asks. "Tomorrow. I'll take you somewhere special. These used to be my old stomping grounds… or did that not come up on your research?"

The heat rose to my cheeks. Why does he always do this?

"I'm teasing you, Kim," He smiles and I find myself smiling too. "Dress comfortably. We're gonna do a lot of walking."

I don't know what else to say but yes. "Okay."

I swipe the keycard on the reader and the door behind me unlocks. I open it enough to turn the light on and take one step inside.

He stares at me for a moment, both of his hands in his pocket. I don't know what he's trying to see, but my heart rate is picking up and beginning to beat at an uncomfortable pace.

Come on… ask me.

"Well, goodnight," I say after a while.

Say something. Leave. Do whatever you want but don't stare at me like that.

I swallow.

He leans towards me and I prepare myself for what I think is about to come. A kiss that I'm sure will leave me lying awake at night, wondering what life would have been like if I had met him sooner. But when he gets closer, his lips don't touch mine. Instead, they touch my cheek in the most delicate of kisses. It was soft, tender, lingering. It was different than what I was expecting and as it turns out, he has a habit of surprising me.

"Goodnight, freckles," He says softly as he pulls back.

I can only do what comes naturally, stare back at him with my lips partially parted.

Who is he? He begins to walk away and I wait for him to turn around and say something else, but he doesn't. He doesn't even look back at me.

Author note: Was able to complete this with the little bit of free time that I've been getting. This is my little bit of distraction from studying. I can't do it 24/7 or else I'll explode. School is seriously kicking my butt. I spend all my time with my nose in a textbook… it's insane. In some fun/exciting news: I had the amazing opportunity to assist in the delivery of a fucking baby (with the Hawkeye supervision of the OB, obvs) and I mean DELIVERED, placenta and all! I caught that little sucker like a quarterback at the Superbowl. It was amazing, bloody, noisy, and hectic, but it's a memory I will treasure for the rest of my life. Newborn babies are as slippery as soap in a prison shower. The motto still stands, don't drop it ;)