Page 43 of One Night Only

Zach pats his arm, his fake cheerfulness dropping and revealing something far too real. I recognize that look, having seen it in my own eyes in the mirror mere moments ago. “Oh, for God’s sake, Ani, tell your fabulous doctor to forgive us. Or Rahul will feel guilty for the rest of our lives.”

“It’s not my opinion that matters,” I say, relieved that Ani didn’t say I wasn’t hers.

“Clearly it does, Dr. Cross,” Rahul says, his gaze thoughtful as it rests on Ani. “Whatever you did last night to her, I’ve never seen Ani like this. With such real happiness shining in her eyes. You must do it again. She deserves to be…” Slowly, twin strips of color climb up his cheeks.

Zach gazes at Rahul as if he’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. “What he’s saying is that you’re good at what you do, clearly. Whatever it is that you did to her overnight.”

Ani groans. “Shut up, you idiots.” Her color is high as she moves in front of me. “Stop making this worse. Stop staring at him as if he’s a delicious morsel and you’re hungry dogs.”

There’s something in the way she squares her shoulders and stands with her back to me that makes it look like she’s shielding me from their slobbering grins.

God, she’s adorable, especially when she reluctantly, but fully, claims me. Does she even know she’s doing it?

Goofy idiots they might be, but her friends have noticed too. They exchange tense looks over her head. It’s Rahul who speaks up. “You live in New York, don’t you, Dr. Cross?”

“Did Ani tell you she got into UW nursing school?” Zach pipes up. For once, his eyes are serious.

“Jesus, we don’t need you two to communicate,” Ani says, shoulders stiff. “Of course, we’re aware that we live across the country. That he’s a renowned cardiac surgeon and I’m me. This is…” A serrated laugh falls from her lips. “One night’s madness.”

I’m fully aware of how she sees this. Still, my stomach tightens, and my heart hammers painfully at her declaration.

“I think you should wait downstairs,” I say, knowing she might need them by her side soon, with how this might play out.

I never want her to feel like she’s alone. Especially when I can’t be there.

“Take as long as you need,” Rahul says. Apparently, he isn’t a complete lost cause because he meets my eyes with a shrewdness that is tempered by kindness. “Good to meet you, Dr. Cross. I hope we have a chance to get to know each other better. In the future.”

I nod, keeping my gaze carefully away from Annika’s face.

Chapter Nineteen

Annika

I glance at the clock,but it feels like time has stopped ticking the moment the door closes behind Zach and Rahul. In pure Annika Rao fashion, I let myself escape the storm brewing within by throwing myself into my friends’ budding romance.

Rahul was right, with that clarity that he has about everyone else but himself. I can appreciate how right they are together because of the night I spent with Dr. Cross. I know now what it means to show someone your true self and not only be accepted but adored. Appreciated.

How am I supposed to go on without that feeling? Without him?

Now, morning is here, the world is bright, and my stomach is caving in on itself at the idea of walking away. Of never seeing Dr. Cross’s eyes light up as they land on me. Of never knowing the warm, drugging need in his kisses.

The suite feels smaller, the air thicker. Or maybe it’s our unspoken words that are burning up the oxygen, leaving nothing for us.

I move across the room and wince at the delicious soreness between my thighs. My core is over-sensitized but still clenching on emptiness. I pick up the colorful pillows we threw off the bed at dawn, my hands moving too fast. I can’t bring myself to even look at him. Will I drown in those pale gray eyes? Will I shatter at his feet?

“Annika.” His voice is infinitely gentle and yet snaps the choking tension inside me. “Look at me.”

The soft command makes my nerves ping, and I turn. He’s standing with his back to the door, arms folded.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

Morning light slants through the suite, gilding the sharp lines of his face, the lush curve of his lower lip.

Dressed in a gray button-down shirt that makes his eyes look dark, and black slacks, he looks like the man I met first in the waiting room. Controlled and remote. Unlike the man who stripped everything from me, and himself, at dawn. The man who let me see the possessive need and craven desires underneath the polish.

There’s an opacity to his expression, like a glass window reflecting me instead of letting me see inside. Is he mad I invited Zach and Rahul up here, or that they made everything so awkward? Or is it that he wants to make this walking away easier on both of us?

“You’re staring,” he says, color high in his cheeks. “Although, I must say I like when your gaze rests on me.”

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