Falling for Ezra Thomas (Life With the Thomas Brothers #4)

3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Lorelai

“You go that way, and I’ll go this way. Meet me around the back and hopefully we’ll corner it!” Panic prickles my skin from my head to my toes, but I override my instinct to run in the opposite direction and away from my psychotic patient. My assistant, Susan, slips on the highly polished floor and almost completes a perfect split before twisting herself in acrobatic fashion upright again. I, however, am not as lucky. I slip, fall, and bash both knees on the floor.

It’s official. I hate being a veterinarian. I love practicing medicine, but chasing someone’s pet squirrel around a two-story, 25,000 square foot specialty and emergency veterinary clinic is not my idea of a good time, especially when I’m missing another family gathering. I’d rather be there with people who love and care about me than stuck chasing a ferocious rodent who, I’m almost positive, has put a hit out on me.

On the other hand, if I’m not at the gathering, then I don’t have to have awkward and tense non-communication with Ezra Thomas, which is like waiting for someone to hit the red button after entering nuclear codes at the opening of World War III. No one wants to admit that what we did—a stolen kiss that never should have happened—has created a chasm in the peaceful existence we once had. We rocked a boat we shouldn’t have even been in, and it’s costing everyone their sanity.

I push off the floor and follow Susan.

“It got away. Go back! Go back!” Susan yells, waving me back, but I don’t see which direction the squirrel went, so I’m traveling blind. I look all around and cannot find our naughty patient. I turn once more and finally figure out where he is because he lands on my head, screeching like something from my nightmares. He digs his little claws into my scalp and won’t let go.

“Get it off! Get it off!” I scream, spinning in circles.

“Hold still!” Susan cries, dancing around me in a haphazard attempt to free me from the clutches of the most despicable vermin the world has ever seen. I’ll swear to anyone who asks, this creature has had it out for me from the second I opened its carrier.

“I got it!” Tony yells, then plunks a bucket over my head.

“I can’t see!” I try to stay upright, but I’ve got no prayer. I go down with Tony, the squirrel, the bucket, and what is left of my pride. My rear end slams on the floor while one leg goes one way and the other leg sprawls the other way, splitting my pants with a rip that echoes down the hallway.

The bucket falls off along with the squirrel—Mr. Nuts, because why not—and Susan and Tony leave me lying on the floor, half broken, with ripped scrub pants, hair flying everywhere, and possibly a broken rear end. I lift myself up while they go another round. I’m exhausted, haven’t had a day off in three weeks, and everything hurts. It isn’t supposed to be like this. I was meant to graduate, find a great residency, then work a few years alongside some great doctors before opening my own practice.

“Lorelai!” Susan’s scream meets me only a breath before Mr. Nuts soars through the air and latches onto my shoulder. I scream and flail, but it’s no use. He gets his little teeth dug so deep into my shoulder, Tony has to pry him off. With each tug, Mr. Nuts growls and I whimper, but he finally extricates those long teeth from my flesh.

“Lore, I’m sorry. I thought I had him with the bucket. I’m really sorry,” he says. The poor guy means it, too. If anyone knows how I feel every day, it’s the veterinary technicians and assistants. They keep late hours, too. Work holidays. Run on coffee and prayer right alongside me, but they handle it better. I’m falling apart, and I just can’t do it anymore.

“I know, Tony. It’s okay. I better go get this bite cleaned up and change my pants. At least we know he doesn’t have rabies.” I stumble down the hallway, holding my bleeding shoulder. My pants split up the back, thinking about Ezra Thomas the whole way to the doctors’ lounge. My heart breaks all over again, just like it does every day. Several times a day. All I can do is replay our last interaction. The last one that mattered, anyway.

When Vivien and Beck walked in on us kissing that night, I freaked out. I couldn’t figure out how it happened, nor did I know why; it just happened. But I didn’t hate it. The feelings were scary and surprising, which was not lost on me considering my sister’s dilemma with Beck at the time. It was nice to be held the way Ezra held me, kissed so sweetly with no expectation, not like the other guys I’ve dated. Ezra was different.

Ezra just changed, stopped talking to me, distanced himself from me in all ways. He still won’t tell Vivien why, except that he’s not ready to talk about it.

I shake the memory from my mind and try to focus on my task—getting medical help for my injury and quitting this horrible job. Dr. Washington nearly passes me in the hallway but stops just shy and looks me up and down, lip curled in disgust. He sighs and motions over my clothing.

“Lorelai, what happened to you? Hurry and bandage that wound, change your clothes to something more professional, and get back on the floor. We have three more walk-ins and a surgery in waiting.”

“No, thank you,” I mumble.

“Excuse me?” Dr. Washington stands straighter and repositions his stethoscope around his neck. I’d like to pull it a bit tighter, maybe wrap it around his—what am I saying? I can’t resort to murdering my boss because I’m unhappy.

“I quit,” I say, yank my name tag off, and toss it in the trash.

“What?” Dr. Washington’s tone is accusatory, angry, and a lot of other things, but I don’t care. I do not care if I ever practiced medicine another day in my life, not if this is the cost up front. I need more than this, more than seventy hours a week for three straight weeks, more than missed family gatherings and time with my sister, and definitely more than men who kiss me and make me feel things I don’t want to feel, then avoid me like I don’t exist.

“I said, I quit. Good luck.” For some reason, I salute him on my way to gather my things from my employee locker.

“This is breach of contract, Miss Mays,” he shouts to my back.

“No it isn’t. You were too busy to sign my renewal, remember?” I wave over my shoulder and don’t look back. Thank goodness for snotty men with better things to do than review my contract with a raise request included.

He mumbles something else, but I don’t hear what he says. It’s probably better that I don’t. I’m too busy wiping my tears, gathering my things, and rushing out the door, ready to get home and drown myself in a gallon of chocolate ice cream while crying on my sister’s shoulder. In the comfort of my car, I cover my face and let it all go. It’s too much. My chest hurts and a sinking feeling settles in my stomach, but I can’t breathe, let alone figure out how I ended up here, working for a bunch of doctors who don’t care about anything but money. They don’t care about their patients or their staff.

Once I’ve cried all I can, I wipe my cheeks, start my car, and head back to my little two-bedroom apartment where I can avoid everything until my sister gets home with her perfect boyfriend. Nope, her fiancé. A fiancé who happens to have the same face as the man I want to smack, so looking at him is difficult. It isn’t Beck’s fault, though, and I know he’s as perplexed by his brother’s actions as anyone. Still, with the mood I’m in, it would be in Beck’s best interest to avoid any ill-timed jokes, tomfoolery, or generally Ezra-like behavior.

I pray I didn’t miss any red lights on my way home and pull into the lot, thinking about ice cream and how it never makes a girl cry. It doesn’t kiss and run, doesn’t ignore anyone, and if it does, well, then you can eat it and forget about it.

Evidently, it’s later than I realize and Beck’s car is already parked beside Vivien’s when I finally make it home. This means he’s probably snuggled up with Viv, being super sweet and supportive. She deserves it, and I have nothing against Beck at all. I just…need him to not be here right now.

I grab my purse and phone, slam my car door, and head upstairs to our apartment. I try to spackle on a smile because there’s no need to drag them down, but the second I open the door, my sister knows something is wrong. She cranes her neck to look at me, her eyes bulging like one of those big-headed cartoon characters once her gaze lands on me.

“Lorelai! You’re bleeding!” she says, nearly taking Beck out to get up from the sofa. She crosses the living room to the entryway, where I’m standing as dejectedly as a human can— slouched, blinking, biting my lip to keep from sobbing. “Lore, what happened?”

I glance at my shoulder that I never treated, and the floodgates open all over again. My shoulder hurts, but not as much as my heart. “It was a stupid squirrel. Mr. Nuts escaped, and he terrorized me.”

“Oh, Lore, come here. I’ll clean it up, and we can snuggle and binge watch old sitcoms, okay?” I nod and let Vivien hug me, then lead me down the hallway toward the bathroom.

Beck stands from the sofa and heads toward the kitchen. “I’ll scoop you ladies some ice cream and head out.”

I sniffle. Why can’t Ezra be as sweet as his brother and read my mind?

“Lore, what happened?” Vivien asks again, maneuvering me to sit on the edge of the tub.

I slip my shoes off and dig my toes into the memory foam rug, working to distract myself from the pain my sister is about to inflict upon me with her less than gentle first aid skills. I wipe my cheeks and my nose, then slide my scrub top off so she can help me clean the bite wound that’s already swollen and purple. “Like I said, Mr. Nuts escaped. There was a three-ring circus. He bit me, and I quit.”

“Why would anyone have a pet—Wait, you quit?” Vivien pauses and glances down at me where I sit on the tub, waiting for her to judge me for ruining my career.

“I’ll get another job and make rent, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about rent, Lore. I’m worried about you. I’m glad you quit. You deserve so much more than what you get at that horrible place, and now you can take a breath and find a better clinic.”

I start crying all over again. “They’ll never give me a good reference, and I’ll never have my own clinic or my own sweet boyfriend.” I can’t help myself. I sob like a child while my sister wipes my wound and bandages it, then sits on the side of the tub and lets me cry it out. I’m so thankful for her, but there is nothing she can do to make this better, not this time. All I can do is find a job I don’t hate for a while, then rest, recover, and figure out how to get over my broken heart.

Because somehow, in a matter of one night filled with laughter and teasing, one kiss, and countless hours thinking about him, I’ve gone and fallen for Ezra. But he doesn’t want me. He’s proven that, and all I have left are squirrel teeth marks, ripped pants, and a bruised ego.

“Lorelai, why won’t you tell me what happened between you and Ez? I want to help, but neither of you will talk about it.”

I shrug. “There’s nothing more to say. I already told you. We kissed, he freaked out, and now he won’t talk to me, end of story.”

She sighs, frustrated. When Beck proposed to Vivien, Ezra had promised Vivien he would make things right with me, but he still hasn’t. There was a time when our parents worried that Vivien and Beck might create friction between the families, back when they seemed to hate each other. But nope, that would be Ezra and me. We’ll drive a wedge in everything if we don’t figure out how to coexist in a room with one another.

“Well, don’t forget about the engagement party Mrs. Thomas is planning. They want everyone there, Lore, and I’m sure you’re not going to get out of it no matter how much you whine and complain, especially if they know you quit your job.”

I roll my eyes and look at her. “Let me guess, the Thomas boys will be bringing their new girlfriends?”

“Well, I’ll be there. You like me,” she teases.

“I like Emma and Ella, too. It’s just hard when I wish I was also one of those girlfriends.”

Vivien frowns and stands, offering her hand. “I don’t like this either, but we have to let it run its course, okay? For some reason, Ezra needs more time. I never said he was smart, but eventually he will see he’s being an idiot and you are the perfect person for him. That, or Beck might drown him. It’s hard to say which will happen first.”

I chuckle and follow her to the living room where Beck has, as promised, scooped our ice cream. He even put whipped cream in the shape of smiley faces and topped it with sprinkles—pink for Viv and chocolate for me because he’s a nice guy and remembers those things.

I flop on the sofa and turn the television back on, ready to stuff obscene amounts of ice cream down the gullet while memories of laughs and kisses with Ezra slowly kill me. If this is what it feels like to love someone, I never want to do it again.