Fans of Eloisa James & Julia Quinn discussion
Monday Puzzler
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26th August 2019
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She is a nurse practitioner. This is a friends to lovers trope, with them being friends from 10 or so.

Leigh-Ayn wrote: "Oh this sounds lovely!"
It was!
Stacey is Sassy wrote: "It seems really familiar but I can't for the life of me remember the name. Can't wait for the reveal. :-)"
It's a May release :)
It was!
Stacey is Sassy wrote: "It seems really familiar but I can't for the life of me remember the name. Can't wait for the reveal. :-)"
It's a May release :)

It was!
Stacey is Sassy wrote: "It seems really familiar but I can't for the life of me remember the name. Can't wait for the reveal. :-)"
It's a May rel..."
Hmmm...may have to do some research. 🤔
“That’s your last patient of the day!” FRIEND throws her arms up in celebration.
“Thank God. Penn Station is a nightmare,” HERO says, loosening his tie and undoing the top button, revealing the Yankees T-shirt underneath. He secured box seats for tonight’s Mets-Yankees game and asked FRIEND to clear his afternoon.
He runs his fingers through the dark strands of his hair as he makes his final notes on a patient’s chart.
FRIEND stands up and lifts her scrubs. It looks like she’s going to flash him when, really, she’s proudly displaying her own Yankees T-shirt she bedazzled with pink rhinestones. “I came prepared in case your plus-one cancels.”
He shakes his head and grins, his eyes still focused on what he’s writing. “If I’m going to take anyone, it’ll be HEROINE.”
“Me?” I ask incredulously.
“Her?” FRIEND mimics my tone. “She hates baseball.”
I twist in my seat. “I don’t hate baseball.”
She leans back with a sashay of her body and motions toward her shirt. “You certainly don’t bedazzle the shit out of your shirts for it.”
“Touché,” I concede and then turn back to my own notes.
HERO laughs, that deep vibrato sending a hum into my chest. He hands FRIEND the folder to file away and then turns to me. “Ticket’s yours if you want it.”
I look up to see him staring at me with mischievously grinning eyes.
“I thought your dad was going?” I ask.
HERO and I have been friends too long for me to know there is no way his father, Dr. Thomas Gallagher, would pass up a chance to see his beloved “boys in blue” play.
“He is, but if I tell him I’m taking you instead, he’ll understand.”
I cross my arms and raise a brow. “To a Subway Series game? I don’t believe it.”
He chuckles, his dimples highlighting his rugged grin. “What can I say? The old man loves you.”
The senior Gallagher has been playing matchmaker with me and HERO since we were ten and our parents had us enrolled at tennis camp. My parents were no better, constantly dropping hints about HERO and his accomplished physician family. While they were never able to get us to date, they did help us forge a friendship that has spanned over twenty years.
“Enjoy a boys’ night.” Noticing the time, I give him a shoo. “You’re ahead of schedule, so take advantage. It’s the first afternoon you’ve taken off in a year.”
“Are you saying I’m a workaholic?” he teases, knowing full well he’s addicted to his field of medicine.
With an outstretched arm, I point him toward his office. “Get dressed and grab a drink with your dad before the game.”
He looks at me for a beat before letting out a breath and dropping his shoulders. “All right. You sure? I’d much prefer to have a beautiful blonde by my side.”
“I’m positive. I have a good book and a long bath planned.”
He lets out a groan before walking back toward his office when FRIEND hits me in the arm. I’m rubbing the sore spot on my bicep as she says, “That man was totally asking you out.”
I curve my brow at her and go back to reviewing an echocardiogram from earlier today. “He did not ask me out on a date. He asked me to a game. As friends. We passed the era of possibility a long time ago. Besides, he’s a thirty-three-year-old bachelor who can have any woman in the city. He’s at the onset of a three-year fellowship, hoping to become the greatest heart valve replacement surgeon in the world. What the hell would he want my baggage for?”
“You don’t have baggage.”
I stop what I’m doing to swivel toward her, lower my forehead, and give her a deadpan look. “I can load an airplane with the amount of bags I have packed.”
She raises a shoulder in mock agreement. “Okay, fine, you have a carry-on worth of shit, but you’re a sexy, single woman who happens to be crazy smart and has a killer body that spikes half the patients’ blood pressure when they see that fine ass. You should work those curves underneath the scrubs. Don’t hide because of one failed relationship.”
I balk at her insinuation. While I want to argue with these points, I choose to simply remark on the main one. “HERO and I are just friends.”
“He flirts with you all the time.”
“He flirts with everyone.”
She sways her finger. “He doesn’t flirt with me.”
I open my mouth to correct her before realizing she’s right. “We’re just friends.”
“Friends make the best lovers.”
“Stop it, FRIEND,” I singsong my annoyance.
“I’m stopping, HEROINE,” she sings back just as HERO walks out of the hallway that leads to the back offices.
He changed into jeans, his Yankees T-shirt, and a baseball cap. He slides on his brown bomber jacket, which accentuates his broad shoulders, as he heads out the door with a wave, leaving the lingering woodsy scent of his cologne in the waiting room.
“Can you at least admit he’s fucking hot?” she says with a hand on her hip.
I dramatically place my stack of folders on the desk in front of her and rise, heading toward the exam rooms for my evening lineup of patients.