Broken Lion by Devon Hartford Page B

team or the volleyball team.”
    “Then how do you know you’re not good at sports?”
    “Because I was always picked last in grade school.”
    “So?”
    “Can we change the subject?” Grade school was not my favorite time in life. I was too serious for the other kids and didn’t have a lot of friends. It happened when you were obsessed with being a doctor at age six and always had your nose in a book.
    “Sure,” he smiled. He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully for a while. We both watched Daniel climbing on the playground equipment with the other kids. It looked like he had joined a game of tag and was having fun.
    “That’s strange,” I said thoughtfully.
    “What?”
    “Daniel usually plays by himself. Part of being an only child, I guess.”
    “Maybe he’s in the mood after working with the other kids at the dojo. He was loving the leapfrog drills.”
    I smirked. “We already signed up for a month. You don’t have to sell me on it.”
    “Just pointing out the obvious.” That adorable grin of his warmed my heart like it did every time I saw it.
    “What do you want from me, Lion Maxwell?”
    His eyes darkened. “Everything.”
    That voice . It was dangerous and intoxicating and I wanted to hear it every day for the rest of my life. With all the things I now knew about Lion, my opinion of him had changed drastically. But the reality of how we’d met hadn’t.
    “You’re still my patient.” Saying it pained me. I was having so much fun with him, I wished this was a real lunch date. Not a platonic lunch with a friend or whatever we were.
    “Seriously, Irish. What is up with you and rules?”
    “You mean, why do I want to keep my job? Oh, let’s see. I have a mountain of debt. I have a son. I spent literally half my life becoming a doctor and maybe I don’t want to throw away all that hard work.”
    “I can honestly say I’m worth it.”
    I shook my head, exasperated. “How old are you? Five? The world does not revolve around your giant ego, although it is large enough to attract its own moon. I’m surprised you don’t have one or two moons orbiting around your head right now. Oh, wait! There’s one!” I pointed over his ear. “I can even see tiny moon men waving at me!” I did a little wave with my fingers. “Hey, guys!”
    He chuckled. “There you go again, Einstein.”
    “Me Einstein? You were karate Einstein today at the school.”
    “And you loved it.”
    “I don’t love anything about you.” I busied myself with my lunch and popped a potato chip into my mouth.
    He stared at me while I chewed.
    “What?”
    “If we weren’t in the middle of this park, I’d climb over this picnic table and kiss you until you came.”
    I gulped and swallowed and tried not to cough. My throat was suddenly dry. I took a sip from my water bottle. “Nobody has an orgasm from kissing.”
    “You haven’t kissed me.”
    Was that true? Was it even anatomically possible? I’d have to consult the research. Maybe it was. More importantly, what was I doing? Officially, there was no exact rule that said how much time needed to pass before you could safely date a discharged patient, but six months was considered a bare minimum. With Lion, it hadn’t even been six weeks. I wasn’t going to say any of this to Lion because I didn’t want him getting any ideas. He was already finding ways to break the rules. Me having lunch with him was at the very least highly suspicious. If one of my bosses or a hospital administrator saw us together, I’m sure I’d get chewed out about it.
    I sighed. “Lion, we can’t do this.”
    “Do what? We’re just having lunch.”
    “Just? Talking about kissing orgasms is just lunch?”
    “It’s just talk.”
    “Talk leads to other things.”
    “Is that a promise?”
    “No! It’s not. Are you always this irritating?”
    “You love it. But I like to think of it as persistent.”
    “A, we already established I don’t love anything about you. B, being