I feel a slight ringing in my ears at the sound of his insanely deep voice. I’m not sure if it’s just me or the general funkiness I feel from being in a surgery center, but his statement sounds an awful lot like a demand. And the way he just said my name? Holy shit.
Before I even get a chance to speak, he says, “Or would you prefer to go by ‘Miss Gallo’ or something else?”
My toes curl on impulse at the sound of him calling me in such a formal way. It sounds both incredibly sexy and so damn respectful at the same time. I’m not sure I’d be able to decide, so I just shrug in a gesture of indifference.
“Uh, Ramona’s fine,” I manage to croak. I’m not sure it even matters what he calls me. His voice would most likely still have the same attention-grabbing effect.
He simply nods. “Alright, then. Ramona it is.”
Jesus, he really needs to stop doing that! The way he says my name gives me the most gigantic goosebumps ever. I’m not entirely sure if they’re the good or bad kind, but I’m more inclined to think they’re the good kind.
He remains silent, and I realize he’s waiting for me to speak.