Better Than Me (A Remington Medical Contemporary Romance) Page 8

  “In her defense, I let everyone think it, too, and she wasn’t here to elaborate. It’s kind of a long story.”

  One that, by the look on Natalie’s face, there was no way he was going to get away with not telling in full now that he’d impulsively opened his trap. Better to just get it over with. At any rate, it proved his argument about love in spades.

  “I knew something wasn’t right between me and Vanessa for a couple of months leading up to that night,” Jonah said. “She was distant, just one step out of reach. But we were both working a lot of hours, and you know her parents. The wedding planning was pretty extensive. I thought all of that was just making things crazy between us, and I didn’t press.”

  Vanessa’s parents had made the list of Remington’s top ten wealthiest business owners for decades, having founded an incredibly lucrative brokerage firm together during the first year of their marriage. As their only child, Vanessa had taken a position at the firm after she’d graduated with her MBA and was being groomed to move all the way up the career ladder until she eventually took over as CEO one day. Marrying an ambitious trauma surgeon had really been the cherry on top of her parents’ sky-high expectations. Or, at least, it would’ve been, had she actually pulled the trigger.

  “Vanessa finally came to me the night before the wedding and said we needed to talk,” Jonah continued, his tone as non-committal as the rest of him. “She said she’d tried to love the family business, living in Remington. Meeting the expectations her parents had set for her. All of it.”

  “Including marrying you,” Natalie said, finally starting to connect the dots.

  Hindsight really was the meanest bitch Jonah knew. “We’d been together for two years. We started out happy. In love with each other.” On second thought, maybe irony was meaner. “Everyone assumed we’d get married, including us. But somewhere along the way, Vanessa realized she wanted something else.”

  “Oh, my God,” Natalie said, and who knew her eyes could get so big? “She chose the Peace Corps, didn’t she? That’s what she wanted.”

  And there it was. “Yeah. She’d always hated all the social obligations, the lifestyle, pretty much everything that went with the business she’d have inherited if she hadn’t found a way out of Remington. It was everything her parents had ever worked for. She felt trapped here, in this life. She was just too afraid to tell her parents the truth.”

  “That can be pretty overwhelming,” Natalie admitted, but then she shook her head. “Still. She was the one who wanted out, but you took all the blame. That hardly seems fair.”

  Jonah bit back a bitter laugh. Fair was just a four-letter f-word. “She told me before we made the biggest mistake of our lives, and I know it was hard for her.”

  He’d been hurt at the time—duh—but not so much that he hadn’t been able to see that trying to convince her to stay would’ve been a lost cause and a colossal mistake. There was no fixing what could never work.

  And he’d known far before she’d left him that love never worked.

  “We didn’t ever say I was the one to leave her, and Vanessa never made me out to be the bad guy to save face with her family,” Jonah said, carefully keeping his emotions far from the words. They didn’t belong here, mingled in with the truth. “The story just kind of unfolded that way, and we both let it. Then she left for Nicaragua a few days later.”

  “Okay, but why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  He shrugged, his shoulders shushing against the couch cushions. “Because Vanessa had a lot to lose if the truth came out, and I didn’t. Because I stupidly thought I loved her. Because it was easier to let people jump to the natural conclusion that I left her at the altar rather than her leaving me.”

  Natalie leaned in, her brown eyes glinting with something Jonah couldn’t name, but that slid all the way through him, regardless.

  “No,” she whispered. “I meant, why didn’t you ever say anything to me?”

  His pulse stuttered. “I guess I didn’t think it would really matter. Airing it out wouldn’t have changed what happened, and the truth is, Vanessa did me a favor.”

  At Natalie’s shocked exhale, Jonah continued, “I didn’t realize it at the time, but that doesn’t make it any less true now. Relationships just aren’t for me.” His emotions reared up, threatening to spill over, but he kept them in check. This was just the truth. He’d known it forever. All Vanessa had done was give him proof.

  “I’m not a long-haul guy. But I’m also not sad about it.” Jonah shrugged. “I don’t want to end up divorced and heartbroken like my old man, or in a loveless relationship like Tess and her idiot husband, and millions of other couples. Better that I know now. Even if my reputation took a hit for it three years ago.”

  Natalie took a minute to process everything, opening her mouth, then closing it, then finally saying, “I still can’t believe you never told me any of this.”

  The regret in her tone arrowed right to his solar plexus. He needed some levity, and he needed it fast. “Oh, come on. Like there aren’t things you’ve never told me before.”

  He edged the words with just enough teasing to make the corners of her mouth hint at a smile. “Not things like that,” she said. But the smile didn’t fade, so Jonah worked up one to match it.

  “You don’t have one secret? One thing about you that I don’t know?”

  Her chin dropped toward her chest as a blush tore over her cheeks, and good Christ, she was pretty. “Maybe one. But it’s not a secret. It’s just something I’ve never told you.”

  “Let me guess.” He turned toward her on the couch, his knee brushing hers. “You’re a spy.”

  She rolled her eyes and huffed out a laugh. “No.”

  “You know who really killed JFK.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Hey, I’m just trying to cover all my bases,” Jonah said, tapping a finger against his chin before feigning enlightenment. “Ah! I’ve got it. You’re going to literally take on a star fleet of aliens and save the world all by yourself.”

  Natalie shook her head, her laughter taking over. “Oh, my God, no! I’m just a virgin. That’s all.”

  For a second that lasted for roughly a month, Jonah couldn’t breathe. “You’re…what?”

  “It’s not a big deal. I’m not, you know…defective, or anything,” Natalie said, her shoulders stiffening just slightly beneath the thin cotton of her top.

  “God, no. Of course not,” Jonah replied, looking directly into her eyes so she’d know beyond the shadow of a doubt that he meant it. But holy shit. The aliens thing might’ve shocked him less. “I just, ah. I’m surprised.”

  Her brows winged up. “Why?”

  “Because you’re”—Smart. Genuine. So pretty it hurts—“thirty-two,” he managed, and Jesus, he needed to get a grip. “That’s just a little unusual.”

  “It’s not that unusual once you consider my history.” She shrugged. “I was diagnosed with leukemia at ten, and didn’t finish remission therapy until I was fourteen. I was home schooled, and even though my parents had all the best intentions, I was pretty sheltered. It’s not like I went to football games or homecoming dances or any other things normal teenagers do when they shed their virginity. I lived with my parents all the way through college, so that was more of the same, and by the time I got to medical school, I was pretty much the last virgin standing.”

  Jonah had to admit, it did make more sense when she parsed it all out like that. “I get that everyone’s focused on the work in med school,” he said, because he knew it firsthand. His social life had been a frigging wasteland during those years. “But you weren’t in classes and labs twenty-four/seven, and there’s no way guys weren’t interested in you. You must’ve dated at least a little.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t hook up or get pretty close to sex a handful of times,” Natalie pointed out with a tart smile. “I’m a virgin, not a nun. But I don’t want to look at sex like taxes or a flu shot.”

  He couldn�
�t help it. He laughed. “No offense, but I sure as hell hope not.”

  Natalie laughed, too, scattering any awkwardness or tension the moment might otherwise carry. “What I mean is, I don’t want to just get it over with. Which isn’t to say that I don’t want to do it. I actually do. But when I do, I want to do it right. Especially the first time.”

  “So, you’re not waiting for marriage?”

  “God, I hope not,” she said. “I don’t have to lose my virginity to the person I’m going to spend my whole life with. I just don’t want to have sex with someone for the sake of having sex. It doesn’t have to be hearts and flowers and I love yous, but it does have to be with someone I like and really trust. I guess I haven’t felt like I’ve met the right guy for that yet, you know?”

  Jonah’s mind spun back to the handful of men she’d dated, a few of them at the boyfriend level, over the last couple of years. “Okay, but what about that computer programmer guy…Billy—no. Brian. You two were kind of serious for a while.”

  “Brian was great. But there wasn’t a whole lot of chemistry there. Kissing him was like kissing my brother.”

  Natalie shuddered, and okay, yeah, Jonah had to admit, lack of chemistry was a deal-breaker for him, too. “There was the sous chef. Micah, right?” he tried again, and this time, Natalie laughed.

  “Come on, Jonah. You met him. Would you have given your virginity to that guy?”

  “He was a little, ah, high-strung,” Jonah allowed, trying to go easy.

  “Please. I might not have realized it until we’d gone out for a month or two, but he was so uptight that I was tempted to order an MRI to confirm that the world’s largest stick was, indeed, lodged up his ass,” Natalie said. “But all of the guys I’ve dated aside, really, is it that hard for you to believe I’ve never had sex?”

  “No. Yes.” Jonah shook his head, trying to clear the stupid thing once and for all. “It’s not hard for me to understand why you’re waiting. To be honest, I think it’s pretty badass.”

  She snorted. “That’s me. The badass virgin.”

  Something odd broke free in Jonah’s chest, making him lean toward her enough to erase the space between them by half. “It is you, though. I don’t know anyone else who would stick to what she believed in, even if it put her in the minority, rather than say fuck it at some point and settle for something less than perfect.”

  “Oh.” Natalie’s eyes widened, her lashes sweeping up to frame them as she blinked. “But you said yes, too. So, it does surprise you?”

  “The part that surprises me has nothing to do with you,” Jonah said, the truth pouring out of him as if it had been shaken up and set loose. But it was the truth, and, God, right now, in this moment, she deserved to hear it. “There’s nothing wrong with you being a virgin, Nat. What I don’t get is how none of those idiots you dated ever realized how great you really are. I mean, at least a couple of them could’ve been your guy, the one you liked and trusted enough. But none of them ever figured it out. I just don’t understand how no one ever bothered to uncover you.”

  Her lips parted, a soft sound moving past them, and fuck, it undid something in places he didn’t even know he had.

  “You did,” she whispered.

  “That’s different,” Jonah said a second later, when he’d recovered the breath she’d just knocked clean out of him. “I’m your best friend.”

  But in that moment, he realized how close they were. Registered that his knee was still touching hers, the connection firm and warm and not enough. Recognized how much more he wanted, that the glint in Natalie’s stare and the way she’d shifted even closer toward him, her mouth only inches away now, said she wanted it, too.

  “It doesn’t feel different,” she said, her chin lifting toward his. “Right now, it feels—”

  Jonah closed the space between them out of pure impulse, capturing whatever word she’d planned to use with his lips. She exhaled against his mouth, not in surprise, he realized as the exhale coasted into a sigh, but in want. Pressing closer, he cupped her face between both palms, tightening his fingers in her hair and keeping her exactly where he wanted her as he eased into the kiss.

  Not that there was anything sweet about it. No. The way Natalie had wrapped her arms around his shoulders and eagerly parted her lips, then—ah, fuck—darted her tongue out in search of his made Jonah’s cock jerk beneath his sweats. He answered with a bold move of his own, slipping his tongue over hers for a suggestive taste, then another. Natalie arched into the contact of his chest on hers, her breasts sliding against the front of his body with just enough friction to make him temporarily insane, and he lowered his arms to haul her into his lap.

  Oh, hell yes. “That’s better,” Jonah murmured, a bolt of dark, dirty want moving from his breath to his balls as Natalie settled against him from hips to shoulders to mouth. Her kiss was all agreement, another sigh drifting up from her chest and knocking his already tenuous composure down a peg. Somewhere, from the way, way, way back of his brain, came the warning that this was Natalie, and that anything that happened in the heat of the moment couldn’t be undone. But it was Natalie, beautiful, smart, kind-to-her-toes Natalie, who didn’t just know him, but got him.

  And the only thing about this moment that Jonah wanted undone was her.

  Slow and hot and more than once.

  Jonah pulled her closer, his heart thundering in his chest as he poured every ounce of intention and want into kissing her. Each glide of his tongue grew more purposeful, every taste more intense. Yet, rather than letting him dominate the kiss like he usually did, Natalie met each ministration, balancing out his greedy need not by giving in, but by giving back. The equal back and forth, the concession, then control, was the hottest thing Jonah had ever felt, so different than the laundry list of motions he’d gone through for years—shit, maybe forever.

  Desire, sharp and hot, flooded through him, locking his fingers over her hips to hold her flush against his aching cock, crushing his mouth to hers so he could take and give and take some more—

  Her cell phone went off like a grenade.

  “What? Oh,” Natalie murmured, blinking twice before turning her chin to stare at the thing in confusion, and good Christ, was he out of his mind?

  He’d been one sweet sigh from stripping his best friend naked and fucking her senseless on his couch, taking her virginity and destroying the only relationship he’d ever had that actually worked in the process.

  Well. At least that answered the question.

  “You should get that,” Jonah said, loosening his grasp on her hips and sliding his hands up to a far more respectable place on her waist, but damn it, damn it! The damage was done.

  “I don’t want to get it,” Natalie said. “Jonah—”

  “Nat,” he interrupted, lifting her out of his lap and setting her on the cushion beside him. Jesus, he was the worst sort of deplorable for putting that look of confusion on her face, but even that was better than what he’d have been if they hadn’t been interrupted. “Answer your phone.”

  The confusion on Natalie’s face slid from realization to hurt, but only for a beat before she blanked it and reached for her phone. “Hello?”

  Her brows tugged sharply downward, sending a frigid shot of worry between Jonah’s ribs. “Rachel?” Natalie said. “Slow down. Slow down and tell me what’s wrong.”

  Jonah didn’t know who Rachel was, but any idiot could see that whatever she was saying to Natalie wasn’t of the hey-how-are-ya variety. Torn between wanting to give Natalie privacy and offer support, he made the executive decision to keep his ass parked on the couch, but he also stayed quiet so he didn’t distract her from her call.

  A few beats later, Natalie—who had gone stick-straight on the couch beside him—said, “Okay. And she hasn’t kept down any of the fluids you gave her? Is she complaining of specific pain, like at the incision site or anywhere else? Okay. No, that’s probably good. Do you think you can get her to the ED? Alright, don’t worry.
I’ll meet you there. Yes, I’m leaving in a minute.”

  “What’s wrong?” Jonah asked, because at this point, asking if anything was wrong was just plain duh.

  Natalie blew out a shaky breath and lowered her phone to the coffee table. “That was Annabelle’s mom. Annabelle spiked a fever of 101.9, and she’s vomiting and lethargic.”

  Oh, hell. “You think she’s got a post-op infection?” Those could range from aggravating to acute, depending. In a case like Annabelle’s…

  “I don’t know. It could be that, or it could be one of a half-dozen other things,” Natalie said. “I’m going to meet them at the ED, and I guess we’ll find out.”

  Natalie paused, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. It was a brief showing of vulnerability, her fear there and then gone as she pushed to her feet, but to Jonah, it might as well have been a billboard.

  Not once in the whole time that he’d known her had he ever seen Natalie anything less than one million percent a-okay.

  His feet found the floorboards before his brain had any chance of catching up to the command to move. “I’ll drive you.”

  “Don’t be silly. I could be hours,” she pointed out after a brief hitch of surprise. “Plus, I’m perfectly fine to drive to the hospital on my own. I do it every day, remember? It’s no big deal.”

  Nope. Not one fucking chance Jonah was budging on this. “If the situation were reversed, there isn’t even a snowball’s chance in Satan’s backyard that you’d let me drive myself to the ED. So, go on. Get changed, and I’ll meet you out here in a couple of minutes.”

  Natalie hesitated, her teeth clamped over her bottom lip in a way that shouldn’t make his pulse race, under the circumstances, but since he was already batting a thousand in the jackass category tonight, it so did.

  “We should talk about…what happened before Rachel called.”