Skinny Pants (Happy Pants 3)By: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
“OKAY, JACK,” SHE THREW HER HANDS IN THE AIR, “you’re really being a jackass, and my ability to forgive doesn’t extend to people who just won’t get out of their own way.” She turned and started heading back down the mountain. She’d catch up with the girls on their usual hiking trail on the other side.
Macie suddenly heard footsteps behind her. For a moment she thought it was just a jogger coming down the hill, until she felt Jack’s strong hand on her wrist, yanking her back.
“Wait. I’m sorry. It’s just that…I saw my ex this morning.”
“Oh.” It couldn’t have been easy. “Are you all right?”
“I will be. I just don’t think,” he said, “that I’m—I’m not ready…” his voice trailed off.
“What, Jack?” she whispered, placing her hand on his arm. “You can tell me.”
He stood there for a moment and then stepped in, closing the space between them and pressing his firm body against hers.
Macie’s breath stuck in her chest as she stared up into his intense green eyes. Electricity hummed in the air around him.
“Fuck it.” He speared his fingers through the back of her hair and kissed her hard.
Why does that man think he’s God’s gift to women? Nurse Macie Franklin thought while staring at Dr. Chad Bollinger, who’d just come from exam room three and made a pit stop to flirt with one of the new nurses.
“He’s so scrumptiously tasty.” Kirsten sighed, standing a few feet away at Macie’s side in the nurses’ station. “Something about him makes me want to ovulate, bend over, and give up all my hopes and dreams just to wash his dirty underwear and make him coffee in the morning.”
His daytime-drama good looks made him nice eye candy, but he was as fake as they came and a complete manslut. He’d only been with them at Napa General, in the heart of California wine country, a little over six months, but he’d already slept with half the women.
Honestly, I just don’t get what they all see in him. Plus, he’d barely said three non-work-related words to Macie. No good mornings. No how are you todays.
“Sure. He’s kinda hot,” Macie muttered with a little shrug. “If you’re into tall, dark, and handsome doctors who think manwhoring is a sport.”
The Chadster, as they’d nicknamed him, strutted towards them—or toward Kirsten, to be exact. She was the kind of woman the Chadsters of the world liked to date—blonde, cute perky nose, and tight little body. Almost the exact opposite of Macie with her brown wavy hair, brown eyes, five-six height, and a rather generous ass. And boobs. A generous everything, really. She liked to think of herself as a woman with a lot to give. Once she found the right man, of course.
Don’t hold your breath, she thought, eyeing the Chadster and his despicably fake smile.
“Hey there, Kirsten. Havin’ a good one?” He winked, and Kirsten visibly melted.
“So, so good. Thank you, Dr. Bollinger,” Kirsten said sweetly, tucking a golden lock behind her ear.
“A bunch of us are getting together after work. Why don’t you come?” He lifted his dark brows in a sort of “Oh, I’m so handsome. Look at me!” facial pose.
“I’d love to.” Kirsten batted her eyelashes. “Macie, you’re free, right?”
“Huh?” Macie pulled herself out of her silent critique of the man’s hair. He used so much hairspray, it looked like brown plastic.
“Tonight. You’re coming too, right?” Kirsten said, trying to make it clear to the Chadster that the invitation needed to extend to both of them.
But he hadn’t invited Macie for one very good reason. She was completely invisible to the opposite sex and had been since her introduction to boys in kindergarten. Not long after that, she’d developed skin so thick, she began calling it her magic force field. Nothing got in or out.
Superhero in lavender kitty scrubs right here.
Fast-forward to adulthood, and Macie had made a great life for herself, which included a healthy self-esteem, a career she loved, and incredible friends. No boyfriend, though. It was something she’d learned to live without. Can’t have it all.