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Doctor Holy Hotness
by Katy Connor

Copyright © 2019 by Katy Connor. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Chapter One

Ten years ago

Match Day

Alex

All right, I have a confession: I’ve been half in love with Jenny for years.

From afar.

I kept my distance, knowing she used every minute outside of class to study and take care of her grandmother, when she was alive. Rumor around campus was that her grandmother had raised her, so Jenny wanted to be the one by her side until the very end. Jenny was good to everyone, but she kept to herself.

It was time to act: four years of medical school were almost over. In fact, it was Match Day, when all graduating medical students found out where we were spending our residencies. There must have been hundreds of people in the auditorium, all with white envelopes in hand, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, the angel with the dark blond hair, two rows ahead. As people settled into their seats, people around her made sure to say hi, offer a smile, a light touch on her arm. She may be shy, but everyone was drawn to her anyway.

Outsiders probably assume the students in this room all endured the rigors of medical school out of a desire to help people. Closer to the truth was that the students liked solving puzzles. They fed off of the high of finding the right answer to the riddles contained in the human body. Disease was the villain, and the symptoms were the clues.

It was different for Jenny. She truly cared for people, wanted to save them by healing them. She was a pure soul. That’s why, in spite of her shyness, her fellow students always went out of their way to say hello to her, to check in. Maybe, deep down, they were hoping a fraction of her light could change them. Of course, it doesn’t work that way, but that didn’t mean others would stop trying.

Her hair was tied up in one of those messy buns, and she wore these oversized, black, owl-like frames, which rested on the tip of her nose. She was adorable, in this distracted, absent-minded-professor kind of way.

Of course, the way she was gnawing on the end of her pen, sucking on the cap, was driving me crazy. I couldn’t stop myself from imagining what that mouth could do to me. I already knew what mine would like to do to her, how good I wanted to make her feel.

Damn, that mouth of hers.

I wanted to possess it.

I’d barely spoken to her and, already, I could tell: I was in trouble. This girl was going to be my undoing. And I didn’t give a fuck. Getting to know her was all I craved.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience,” said the local coordinator for the National Resident Matching Program. “We all know and appreciate the hard work and sacrifices you’ve made these last four years. We congratulate you, for being here means you’ve matched with one of your choices. Those who did not match were informed earlier this week. So, once again, congratulations on your upcoming residencies. You may now open your envelopes!”

The sound of paper ripping echoed throughout the auditorium, but Jenny was just staring at hers, a big envelope in such tiny hands.

Something was wrong. I shoved mine in the inside pocket of my corduroy blazer, not even bothering to open it, and made my way over to her.

She was more than capable of taking care of herself. Unfortunately, she’d been doing just that for years. I was just hoping she’d let me get to know her, maybe even be someone she could lean on.

People were congratulating each other, some were even crying, but most were already leaving the auditorium, so I managed to work my way over.

Her hands were shaking.

“Hard to believe, all our work comes down to some words inside an envelope,” I said low and close to her ear.

“What?” She startled, jerking her head back and clocking my chin.

For such a little thing, she packed a hell of a wallop.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?”

I rubbed the sore spot. “Nope, that was my bad,” I said, trying to reassure her.

“No, trust me. I’m the klutz,” she said, her golden hazel eyes studying my face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I brushed aside her concern. I didn’t want her worrying about me. I was here to make her feel better.

“I’m fine. Really,” I said, leaning against the chair back. “I came over because I couldn’t help but notice your envelope was still intact. Nervous about seeing what’s inside?”

Her brows V’d. “What about you? Did you open yours yet? Did you get your top choice?”

“Not yet,” I said, patting my jacket pocket. “I thought maybe you’d want to open them together.”

She stared at me for a couple of beats before letting out a sigh. “That’s so sweet, but I was thinking I would open it later,” she said. “You know…alone…in my apartment, with the lights off. Maybe after I polished off a bottle of Fireball.”

I barked out a laugh. “You’re kidding, right? Cinnamon whisky? You’ll incinerate your insides.” I smiled, shaking my head. “C’mon, I bet you got into your first choice.”

She grimaced. “I don’t know. I don’t have a good feeling.”

Being this close, I noticed she had a smattering of freckles across her pert nose and the longest lashes I had ever seen. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup, but she didn’t need any. She had a natural glow about her.

But she was distracted and upset, and fuck me, but I wanted to fix it.

“Tell you what,” I said. “Let me take you out, help us both relax… I bet you haven’t eaten anything yet today. Am I right?”

She nodded. “That’s true. Although, to be honest, I’ve been too nervous to eat.”

As if on cue, her stomach let out a wicked growl. Our eyes locked, and we both cracked up.

“By the way, I trained myself to do that,” she said.

“Is that right?”

“Oh, absolutely. Just in case this whole medical school thing doesn’t work out.”

Holy shit. She’s funny.

Her stomach growled again.

“I’m thinking that’s my cue to get some good food into you. It’s hard to think on an empty stomach, no?”

“I suppose so,” she said, threading her hair behind one of her ears. She was back to being shy.

“There’s a place not far from here, somewhere I’d like to take you. Then, when we’re ready, we’ll open the envelopes together. What do you say?”

She studied my face, as if waiting for a punchline. “I don’t understand,” she said. “You’re gorgeous.”

Well, good. At least she likes what she sees.

I smiled. “I think you’re gorgeous, too.”

She breezed right by the flattery, not letting its truth sink in. “Seriously, you’d make Henry Cavill put a bag over his head.” She broke into a fake British accent. “Oh gawd. I’m hideous next to this chap. The shame, the shame!”

This girl was completely unfiltered—and I fucking loved it.

I didn’t know who this Henry was, but I wasn’t happy hearing about another guy she found attractive. But I didn’t want to scare her off by being too intense.

“Well, I have no idea who that is, but I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh sure you do. He played Superman.”

I shrugged. “Honestly, I’ve been so busy, I can’t even remember the last time I went to the movies.”

“Same here!” she said, bouncing in her seat. “I have this fantasy of spending a whole afternoon just watching one movie after another. Nothing but me, a bucket of popcorn, and the silver screen.”

I gazed down at her hands. She was still holding onto the envelope.

“Your hands aren’t shaking anymore,” I said.

She looked down. “Huh, look at that.”

“You know, you really are beautiful. That’s not a line.”

“Please, no need to lay it on thick because you feel sorry that I’m sitting here, freaking out. I’m okay…maybe cute when I put some effort into it, but I am certainly not beautiful.”

Wow, she didn’t have a clue about herself.

Why was I excited that I was going to be the one to show her?

“We can debate that later. I’m Alex, by the way. Alex Petrinov,” I said, offering my hand.

Her eyes darted to my hand, before she slid hers into mine.

“I know who you are,” she said, her voice soft. “Every woman at Harvard does.”

“I don’t care about any other woman at Harvard. I only care if the one in front of me is going to agree to have dinner with me.”

She tilted her head, looking like a confused puppy. “Are you…asking me out on a date?”

This woman was killing me.

“Well, I’m trying to, but not with much luck, so far,” I said, chuckling. “Wait a second…you don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

If she did, I may have had to kill him. Okay, maybe not that.

She laughed, unfortunately letting go of my hand. “Oh, that’s a good one. I appreciate you thinking I have a semblance of a life.”

The corner of my mouth curled up. “So…no boyfriend?”

“Nope. No boyfriend. Nada. Zilch.”

“And no semblance of a life?”

She threw her head back and made a sound between a laugh and a groan. “Not even a little bit of a life. Sorry to disappoint you, Alex Petrinov, but I’m just your typical Harvard nerd girl. In fact, all I’ve done since I’ve gotten here was study. Oh, and a little bit of sleep—and even then I reviewed what I had just studied in my sleep. I can’t remember the last time I had a shower lasting longer than five minutes. Let’s not even talk about the last time I waxed.”

I suppressed a groan. I needed to get to know this woman before I went there.

“You know, for someone who claims to barely get in a shower, you smell amazing.”

That’s when I saw it: a flicker of something impish and wicked in her eyes.

“Don’t tease. I haven’t been with a man in years,” she said, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “I think I’ve forgotten how.”

My mouth went dry. Please let me be the one to re-educate you.

“Too much with the sharing?” she asked.

If she only knew.

“Jenny, one thing you’ll learn about me: it’s never too much.”