Page 83 of Off the Wall

All he told me before he left was, “It’s a kid.”

Now my insides are churning. Not only for Cash and the kid and the kid’s parents, but also for the doctors and scrub tech and nurses and everyone involved in whatever’s going on. Mostly, though, I feel terrible about the emotion that first popped into my head when Cash took the call.

Jealousy.

I saw the name lighting up his screen, and I immediately tensed, heat surging through me in a series of waves. Cash and I had been about to get pizza and spend some time together. Instead he’s off doing important work with Sandra Fulsome now.

And I hate it. I know. I’m a horrible, shallow person. But I don’t want to be.

So I wait a few hours—a rough estimation of timing for the surgery—then I head to Aria before they close. I order apepperoni and olive pizza just like Cash and I had planned to do. I grab a six-pack of Dr. Pepper from Spring Foods and collect plates and napkins from my place. Then I post up outside Cash’s apartment watchingNew Moonon my phone and waiting to feed him when he finally gets home.

This is not about me being territorial or possessive. It’s simply a nice, neighborly thing to do for a man who’s been helping me out so much.

As the night drags on, though, and the movie ends, I find myself getting sleepy, so I lean my head back against his door. I decide to hang out fifteen more minutes before I give up and go back to my place. After all, Cash has done plenty of waiting around for me these past few weeks. If he’s not back soon, I’ll just leave the pizza and Dr. Pepper here on his doorstep. It’s the thought that counts, right?

I close my eyes, just for a moment.

Next thing I know, someone’s gently nudging my shoulder. “Nori? Hey.” I pry my eyes open to find Cash crouched in front of me. He’s in his scrubs, concern pinching his forehead. “What are you doing here?” The question comes out rusty. He sounds exhausted. I rub at my half-mast lids, then drag my hands down the rest of my face. Good. At least I’m not drooling and I don’t think there’s crust around my eyes.

“I got us some pizza,” I mumble.

“So I see.”

“And I waited for you.”

“Also noted. That was very nice, but you didn’t have to do that.”

“What time is it?” I choke out.

“Just past midnight.” He reaches for me. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed. We can eat this tomorrow.”

He rises first, then he helps me to stand, his touch sending twin zings up my arms. When my legs start tingling too, I stomp them to get the blood flowing again.

“My legs fell asleep,” I say.

“Youfell asleep.”

I bite back a yawn. “I guess I did.” I pull my hands away and offer him a sheepish glance. The circles under his eyes are even worse than they were earlier. His face looks almost haunted. “Everything go okay with the case?”

“Eventually.” He draws in a deep breath then exhales slowly. “We were almost to the point of sepsis by the time the doc got in there.”

“Oh, no.” I wrinkle my nose. “Sepsis is bad.”

“Yeah. Sepsis is bad.” He averts his eyes. “But he’s gonna be all right.”

“Areyouall right?”

He shifts his weight, slowly bringing his gaze back to mine. “I am.” He gulps, and his Adam’s apple traverses his throat. “It’s just … hard. When it’s a kid …” I wait for him to finish his sentence, but he just stands there, eyes locked on mine.

“That’s what you want to do someday, though, isn’t it?” I blink. “You want a territory that focuses on kids?”

He tips his chin. “I thought so. Yes.” We both fall quiet, silently regarding each other for a moment. Then he sucks in a great gust of air. “But now …”

I inhale too, holding my breath until I feel like my lungs might burst. When I can’t wait any longer, I ask, “But now … what?”

A low moan sounds in the back of his throat. “This isn’t what I expected.” His voice sounds refracted, like it’s being filtered through another substance. Water, maybe. Or glass. “None of this is what I expected. Or what I wanted.”

The desire to comfort this good, kind man threads its way through my insides, drawing me closer to him. Connecting us even more tightly. “So what do you want now?” The questionslips out of me even as tendrils of longing weave a web around my ribcage.

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