It could have been worse.
That moment made a killing my freshman year at college. People laughed, guys hit on me and asked if I still had the skirt—so really it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Until today, I’d never truly understood the word “embarrassment,” its definition, its meaning, and everything else attached to it.
Until Lucas Thorn.
Until his mother.
Until now.
“If you would just relax and lean back, this will be over with before you know it!” Dr. Dupper patted my leg with his latex glove. He then pulled a curtain around the examination table so that I was partially blocked from Lucas’s view, for which I was grateful.
Shaking, I tried to go to my happy place, but I was miserable. Lucas had said the three words I’d dreamed of him saying to me when I still wasn’t over my crush in high school—and he’d looked like he meant them.
I’d rather be rejected than given a taste of what it would feel like to be loved by him, only to realize two seconds later that it wasn’t real.
I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the inevitable, but Lucas peeked from around the curtain and whispered in my ear, “This will be funny tomorrow, I promise.”
I opened one eye. “You aren’t the one with your legs spread.”
He looked down at my legs and smirked. He couldn’t see anything, but it was still horrifying for me.
“I can at least appreciate the flexibility.” He winked.
I smiled. “Really? That’s what you’re going to say?”
“Beautiful,” Dr. Dupper commented.
I frowned and propped myself up on my elbows. “Excuse me?”
He peered up at us in confusion. “Oh, I just appreciate it when a woman takes care of her health.” He winked.
Lucas cursed on the other side of the curtain. “More doing, less talking, Doc.”
The doctor snapped back at him, “Please don’t tell me how to do my job.”
“Lucas . . .” I shook my head slowly even though he couldn’t see me. “Just leave it.”
“He called your parts ‘beautiful’!” Lucas hissed as if he was actually angry that a doctor was doing his job.
I burst out laughing. “So?”
“So!” He swore violently and then gripped the edge of the curtain like he was getting ready to tear it down. “Just, that’s not . . . professional.”
“Okay, big guy.” I patted the part of his arm that was visible and then let out a little whimper.
“What?” He poked his face around the curtain, his eyes locking on mine. “What’s wrong? What did the bastard do?”
“You know I can hear both of you, right?” Dr. Dupper asked in a detached voice. “And, Avery, I need you to stop clenching or it’s going to hurt a lot worse.”
“THEN STOP DOING IT!” Lucas yelled.
The doctor ignored him and shoved the metal thingy further in. I clutched the paper sheet and started to sweat.
By this point the curtain was long gone and Lucas was at my side, gripping my hand like I was getting ready to pop out a kid.
“What do I do?” Lucas looked like he was ready to pass out.
“You could have just told the truth to begin with instead of making me go through with dinner last night,” I said through gritted teeth.
“And miss this amazing team-building opportunity?” he joked. “Never.”
“You’re a jackass and should burn in hell.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” He patted my head. I swatted his hand away and swore.
“Almost there,” the doctor said for what felt like the fifth time.
“He’s said that at least twice, right?” My eyes were watering. “Never again. I’m never going to the doctor again.”
Finally, Dr. Dupper, the doctor of death, pulled the metal thingy away and stood. “You can sit up now.”
I jerked the paper sheet over my lap.
I almost burst into tears with relief, until he locked eyes with me and said, “Is there something you’d like to discuss with me, Avery?”
I frowned and then shivered. “Um, no, I don’t think so.”
Lucas’s hand on my arm tightened.
Dr. Dupper looked between the two of us. “Your hymen is still intact.”
I looked up at Lucas and grinned, suddenly feeling quite pleased with the whole situation when I answered, “Well, he’s really small.”
Dr. Dupper burst out laughing.
And suddenly? The whole trip to the gyno?
Worth it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
AVERY
After the gyno adventure, we decided to skip having lunch together and sent Lucas’s mom on her way. I told her I was traumatized, and Lucas looked traumatized, so it worked. I whistled the entire afternoon at work—not because I’d had such a stellar start to my day but because I had every intention of going back to a certain doctor and getting a date.
That was, once I flushed Lucas Thorn down the toilet with all the penile enlargement pamphlets Dr. Dupper had given him. Hey, there was a thought. Instead of flowers at his burial, I’d litter the casket with those. Perfect. And he said I was evil for making fun of his small penis!
At least I can still be thoughtful!
“Lunch.” Lucas rapped his knuckles on my desk. “What do you want? Hot dog? Hamburger?”
“Gee.” I pretended to think about it. “How big is this hot dog?” I held two fingers an inch apart. “Would you say it’s this big? Or”—I moved them two inches apart—“this big?”