Dr. Brandt: Chapter 1

This week in Jamaica was supposed to be a reprieve from the demand of my job as a pediatric neurosurgeon. What wasn’t there to love about the white sandy beaches of the all-inclusive resort where we were staying? I was here for the sun and fun, but the latter had backfired on my ass.

I suppose I should’ve stopped the groom and questioned his bright idea of coming here after his fiancé dumped him a day before their wedding. Typically, however, guys didn’t sit around and talk out their feelings. It was more common for us men to jump at the opportunity to turn a bad situation into a good one. You know, we’ve got each other’s backs without questioning who was right or wrong in a relationship breakup—failed wedding or not. So, that’s what I did.

I agreed to join the broken-hearted groom on vacation. Maybe Dennis would get laid and get over it; maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, he requested that his groomsmen join him for a week, and I was happy to get away from work and Los Angeles for that time.

I felt pretty bad for Dennis after he said that his ex-fiancé was taking her bridesmaids to Dubai on what should’ve been their honeymoon, so how could any of us say no to him? Little did I know this fuck-knuckle had played all of us, and we were the ones going on his honeymoon trip. I didn’t know much about what happened before the wedding day fiasco, and since I was just a last-minute stand-in and not a close friend, I didn’t plan on going too deep with him about it.

Dennis was a resident at Saint John’s Hospital, and if it weren’t for him bumping into me when I’d had a little too much to drink one night after two days on-call, I would’ve never agreed to be in his wedding. I don’t even know why I agreed when I was drunk. I barely knew the guy, and I was quickly finding out how different we were.

He did things that, even in my younger playboy, reckless years, I would’ve never considered doing. A prime example of that being that he’d also invited his fiancé’s married bridesmaids to join us in Jamaica—in our shared villa—for what was turning out to be some weird-ass sex fest. That was not my style. No fucking way. None of this was what I’d signed up for, yet here I was, fending off drunk married women all night every time they tried to sneak into my room.

This was a nightmare. I called down to the front desk of the resort and requested a private room outside of this villa, and all I could do now was wait for them to call with the good news that I had a spot away from this insanity. I still had four days left on the island, and I sure as hell didn’t want to spend them like this.

I was pissed, and God help anyone who tried to downplay Dennis’s role in roping us into his honeymoon, turning this room into some weird fuck parade between the dumped groom, his groomsmen, and the bridesmaids. Perhaps if I got caught up on my sleep, I’d laugh at myself for being stupid enough to jump on a plane with these strangers. Maybe I’d even laugh about it one day with my actual friends. However, at the moment, I wasn’t laughing.

I took a sip of my rum and coke, trying to wake up since this cursed vacation had consisted of me getting cat naps in between women sneaking into my room all night.

“Look who’s finally awake and joining the party,” Dennis said as he gripped my shoulder and took the barstool to my left. “We thought you were sick or something.”

His squeaky voice didn’t match his graying hair, but that wasn’t even the most annoying thing about him at the moment. I’d left the villa an hour ago and gone to the tiki bar, hoping to get away from the fools I’d come with, but here he was.

This would be my first conversation with the fucker since I learned the truth about what’d happened to ruin his wedding—he was the one who’d cheated on his fiancé, and not the other way around like he’d led me to believe.

“You said that your fiancé was the one…” I paused and eyed his smirk, and then I twisted and leaned into the bar to face him. “Why did you make it seem like your girl had cheated on you when it was your stupid ass who cheated on her? At the hospital, you said that those days were over for you. I don’t get it. Why bother getting married at all if you still want to fuck around?”

“Oh, please,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m not here to get lectured by a surgeon who was screwing a nurse in—”

I narrowed my eyes and held up my hand after I gulped down the last of my cocktail. “First of all, Gabby was my girlfriend. Second of all, just because she was an ER nurse doesn’t mean that I was supposed to take a vow not to have sex with her.”

“That’s not what flew around the hospital.”

“Thirdly,” I continued, “I never cheated on her. When we ended things, she decided to make it appear as though I used her as my personal fuck-nurse. It nearly cost me my job, but fortunately, social media saved my ass when I had to deal with the board about her complaints.”

“How so?” He frowned.

“Because she posted everything but nudes of us on Instagram. She’d blasted that shit all over her accounts, and it saved me in the end. So, lesson learned. I don’t date co-workers at that hospital anymore, much less fuck them for the hell of it.” The story sounded so stupid when I said it out loud.

“Why did you break it off? Were you bored with her? You see, I think that’s what my problem is. I got bored with Kelly,” he took a sip of a martini that was as dirty as he was, “and I cheated on her. I don’t know, I guess I got cold feet, but after my bachelor party, I realized that I wasn’t made to be a one-woman man.”

“That shit went down at your fucking bachelor party?”

Who the hell was this guy? He’d always seemed to be a decent guy, but I’d gotten that character assessment completely wrong. I guess you learn more and more about people when you’re stuck living with them in a fucked-up situation for a week.

“She caught me for the fourth and final time after she sent a friend that I’d never met to the party to spy on me. Her friend followed me after I left with a few of girls who’d shown up at the bar.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t lie my way out of having my picture taken while checking into a hotel with my hand on some chicks’ asses.”

“No shit?” I humored him in disgust. He wasn’t an ugly guy, but never in a million years would I expect him to attract multiple women at once—unless he was paying them. “I don’t know who to blame in this scenario, you or your girl, who’d known that you’d already banged at least four other broads before her friend caught you on your bachelor night.”

“Kelly thought she could change me.” He arched his eyebrow. “Marriage isn’t the answer to that, you know. Maybe I’m a sex addict. Maybe I’m the one who needs therapy.”

You think?

I tapped on my glass and ordered another cocktail from the bartender. “Does therapy really help a man who brings his fiancé’s married friends to Jamaica for a massive orgy? And yes, you are a sick fuck.” There went our working relationship. “Excuses and self-diagnoses or not, you realize that this whole thing is another level of fucked-up, right? All of us are here on your honeymoon? I thought this was part of your broken-hearted groom’s getaway since your fiancé supposedly took her bridesmaids to Dubai.”

He sighed. “You clearly got it wrong.”

“Clearly,” I said, taking a gulp of my new drink.

“I’m not going to sit here while you say that I’m the dick in this situation. It was everyone’s idea to join me on the honeymoon that I paid for—no refunds—because she made me look like an asshole. Even her bridesmaids agreed that she handled it dirty. I mean, who stalks their fiancé like she did when she used her friend to catch me? Huh? Who does that to their future husband and then calls off the wedding?”

Jesus Christ. This mother fucker is delusional.

“A woman who doesn’t trust her man. Obviously, it was for a good reason. Listen,” I stirred the ice cubes in my glass with my cocktail straw, “I’ll keep my mouth shut about all of it if you make it clear to the married bridesmaids that they’re not allowed in my room. I would at least appreciate it if you can get the word out to the rest of your wedding party that I’m not fucking any of them.”

“So, now you’re suddenly a prude?”

I rolled my eyes. “They’re married and are here without their spouses. There were three of them in the span of one night who walked into my fucking room naked—drunk off their asses—and woke me up for some fun in paradise. I don’t roll that way.”

Instead of trying to negotiate my way out of being sexually assaulted all fucking night, I should’ve been at the front desk, begging for a private room. I’d pay for a broom closet if it meant I didn’t have to worry about someone grabbing my cock in the middle of the night.

“You’re being a stick-in-the-mud, Cam.”

“Well, I think the honeymoon is over for me,” I said dryly. “I’m out, man. I swear I’ll sleep in a fucking cabana if one of those bridesmaids comes into my room for the third goddamn night in a row.”

“Just chill.” He shook his head like I was the one who was being unreasonable. I was no choir boy, but I also didn’t like people in my space unless they were invited—and none of the people in that goddamn villa were invited. “I’ll take care of the hotties who came with me and my guys. It seems like you’re the only dick that’s shriveled up for the week, eh?”

“How about changing shit up for the final four days that we’re here? Instead of fucking every last married bridesmaid,” my eyes widened as I took my drink and stood from the barstool, “you can just go fuck yourself?”

I briskly nodded and bowed out. Maybe when I was a dumbass in my college days, I would’ve been down for this type of shit, but obviously, I’d grown up a little, and this wasn’t my game.

As I walked through the bar, fuck-me eyes were coming at me from all sides. A few of the bridesmaids were there from the villa—finally coming up for air, I guess—and it was almost like they were tracking me down. This vacation was fucking stressful. There was no way I was going to sleep with one eye open for the third night in a row.

“Cammy,” I heard Tania call out, one of the more aggressive, naked bridesmaids. “Cam!”

I kept walking, hoping she’d be distracted by someone else on her hot pursuit to me. When I glanced back at her, she flashed her tits at me, making me run head-on into someone.

“Fuck!” I growled, trying to steady the woman I’d nearly trampled into the sand. “Holy shit! Jessa?”

“Cameron Brandt?” she chuckled.

“Oh, my God.” I was in complete and utter shock.

I locked eyes with my stunning ex-girlfriend, and I couldn’t help but smile when her bright blue eyes glittered as she laughed. I shivered internally at the welcomed sight of this lovely woman. She was the one who got away—and she was right in front of me.

“You look terrified like someone is chasing you.” She smiled so sweetly as I stared in disbelief that I was looking into the eyes of the one woman I never stopped loving. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said in some foreign voice that I knew gave me away entirely. “This is quite a shock, running into you like this, and in Jamaica of all places…after all these years?”

An arm slipped around the back of my neck, bringing me back to my harsh reality. Fucking hell, how could I begin to explain this crazy-ass situation to the woman I’d crushed ten or more years ago? Why in God’s name did I ever leave this beautiful woman? What the fuck was I thinking?

“Baby, you left me,” Tania whined as she locked eyes on Jessa. “Who’s this? Don’t even think about it, girly. He’s mine.”

I wanted to throw the woman off me and catch up with Jessa, but I wasn’t sure I had the right. How would Jessa trust anything coming out of my mouth when I vowed to love her and never leave her—yet that’s precisely what I did.

Now, I was here with a drunk and married bridesmaid clinging onto me as if she and I were on our honeymoon, and I couldn’t think so long as my Jessa’s blue eyes were staring into mine.

“Is this your wife?” Jessa questioned with a smile, obviously eyeing the large rock on the woman’s left hand.

“No,” I quickly answered. “She’s married.”

“But she’s here with you?” Jessa looked at me like the dirty son of a bitch it appeared I was.

Tania stuck her tongue in my ear, and I nearly threw her to the ground. “Are you fucking serious?” I said to the married woman. “What the hell is wrong with all of you bridesmaids?”

“What?” Jessa looked at me with wide eyes, and I could only imagine what she was thinking from the smile on her face.

“You and I are taking the master bedroom tonight,” Tania said as she grabbed my crotch. “We can share it with the others. You want it, Cammy. Stop playing around.”

“Cammy?” Jessa seemed to bite back her smile.

If Jessa had ever prayed for my ass to be punished for hurting her, she was watching the answer to those prayers come true at this moment. I was miserable, trying my damndest to focus, and Jessa seemed to find it all extremely amusing. That’s what this was all about, right? Karma biting me in my ass like I deserved.

If that wasn’t enough, I was now fighting off this bridesmaid like a rabid spider monkey. “I’m getting another room, and you’re going back to that wedding party. I’m done with this shit.”

“Why don’t I leave you two alone?” Jessa said with a curious smile. “It was nice to see you again, Cam.” She looked at the woman who was hanging like a drunken idiot on my side. “Enjoy your wedding festivities, or whatever it is you’re doing here.”

“This isn’t what it seems.” I tried to smile while refraining from throwing a bridesmaid off my ass. “Trust me.”

“Have a good one.” She laughed and grinned at me.

“Jessa, can we talk?” I looked like an idiot with a drunk woman trying to lick me as she stumbled over her own feet. “I mean, do you have a minute or two?”

“I think you might be the busy one,” Jessa chuckled, watching the bridesmaid that I was unsuccessfully trying to keep at arm’s length.

“You think this is funny?” I grinned back at her, hoping I could get her to agree to meet with me.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before.” She looked at the girl, who was now sitting on the ground, holding onto my shorts like a toddler would cling to their parent.

“Neither have I,” I said as I looked at Tania in disbelief.

“I really have to go.” Jessa seemed weirded out about what was happening to me, and I couldn’t blame her. I’d never been in a more ridiculous situation.

“I’ll try to catch up as soon as I secure another room. The one I have now isn’t working out.”

“You do that.” She winked before she turned and walked away, and I was instantly brought back to better days with my first and only love.

Thirteen years of college and med school taught me that resilience and good focus would get you what you want if you worked hard enough at it, and what I wanted now was Jessa. I hadn’t seen her since I left early for med school, and I couldn’t help but wonder what she thought of me after witnessing this scene.

I stood there—with an intoxicated, groveling bridesmaid holding onto my leg—and watched Jessa walk away. I’d had a lot of girlfriends and flings since Jessa, but no one had ever measured up to her. Now, I felt desperate to explain things to her and right all the wrongs I’d ever done. All I could do was hope to find her again and pray that she’d want to hear me out.