I see Jordan’s eyes making quick work of my torn t-shirt. They settle on my face. He frowns.
My black eye. Shit.
I slide my sunglasses down covering my shame.
“You fixed his leg up.” His eyes are still on my face.
“I did.”
“Thank you.”
Ducking my head, I climb in the backseat and sit in the small space that Dozer isn’t occupying.
Jordan shifts the seat back to its place, then closes the door behind me and makes his way to the driver’s side.
I put my seat belt on, then carefully lift Dozer’s head and rest it on my thigh.
“You’re gonna be just fine, Dozer.”
I press my hand against his chest and begin timing his heartbeats. I want to make sure he’s doing okay, but I also to keep myself busy. I need something to focus on right now.
Jordan spins the car around. I feel the quick acceleration pushing me back into the seat as he speeds us off in the direction of the vets.
Chapter Seven
Jordan
Who the f**k is this girl?
Checking Dozer over … sounding like she knows what she’s talking about … fixing up his leg…
And that black eye.
I’ve never felt as angry as I did when I saw that. And trust me, some f**ker just ran my dog over, so take it that I’m pretty f**king angry about her black eye.
That’s the reason she’s been wearing those sunglasses since she arrived. And the way she covered it up when she finally realized I’d noticed it … that bruise was no accident. Someone did that to her.
It’s probably why she was so nervous around me last night. She’s so tiny and sweet and kind. How anyone could ever hurt her is beyond me.
The way she took care of Dozer … the way she’s still taking care of him … Jesus, my poor f**king dog.
When I find the bastard who did that to him, he’s going to be eating through tubes—just like the guy who gave Mia that black eye.
Dozer might eat way too much, and take up all the space in my bed, but he’s family. I don’t have much of that left nowadays. I can’t lose him too.
“How’s he doing?” I ask over my shoulder.
“His breathing is a little labored.”
I cast a quick glance back. “What does that mean?”
“It means drive faster.”
I slam the pedal to the metal.
A few minutes later, I’m skidding to a stop outside the vets.
Jumping out of the car, I yank the seat forward and lean into the back. Mia shuffles forward and moves Dozer with her, bringing him closer to me.
I lift him into my arms.
Fucking hell. My body groans under his weight. He seems to weigh twice what he did when I picked him up back in the woods.
I shift Dozer against my chest, evening out his weight, and move as quickly as I can toward the vets. Mia is right behind me.
She overtakes and pulls open the door. I dash through.
Spotting the receptionist, I head her way. “My dog’s been hit by a car – he needs help.”
The receptionist rounds her desk. “Follow me.”
I follow quickly behind her, down a hall and into a room. A middle aged guy in a white coat is sitting at a desk working on a computer.
“Dr. Callie, we have a dog who has been hit by a car.”
The vet glances up at us, then gets straight to his feet. “Place him on here.” He points to an examination table.
Dozer flinches when I set him on the table. “Sorry, buddy,” I whisper.
“What is his name?” Dr. Callie asks, plugging a stethoscope into his ears. He presses it to Dozer’s chest.
“Dozer.” My voice sounds rough, so I clear my throat.
“I kept a check on his heart rate on the way here.”
I turn at the sound of Mia’s voice. I didn’t even realize she was still behind me.
She keeps her focus on Dr. Callie as she speaks, “It stayed steady at sixty bpm. About five minutes ago, his breathing became a little labored. He has a chest contusion, not severe from what I could tell upon examination. And his front right leg is broken – possibly a mild fracture. I strapped it up the best I could with what I had.”
And I’ll say it again – who the f**k is this girl?
She sounds confident, a little mechanical—just like she did back at the woods when she was checking Dozer over. Nothing like the quiet, sweet, nervous girl who came into the hotel last night.
Dr. Callie looks up, removing the stethoscope from Dozer’s chest. He takes it from his ears and hangs it around his neck. “Vet or doctor?” he asks Mia.
I wait, suddenly very interested to hear her answer.
“Med student,” she answers quietly. “Second year.”
And just when I thought she couldn’t possibly get any hotter…
Dr. Mia Monroe.
Yep, she just went up a million notches on the hottie counter.
I’ve got doctor (Mia), patient (me), sex scenarios running through my mind on warp speed right now. All of them awesome.
Dr. Callie turns from us and walks over to a metal trolley. He picks up a syringe.
I shudder. I f**king hate needles.
My mom was constantly being stuck with needles while she was going through treatment.
The treatment that didn’t save her.
Dr. Callie walks back toward Dozer, syringe in hand. “Great job on the leg.” He directs his words to Mia, then looks at us both. “I’m going to need you both to wait outside now.”