Page 103 of Love Sick

Julian nods. “And she breathes misery with every breath.”

We match glances from the corner of our eyes, suppressing smiles.

Maxwell sighs and stands. “Y’all weird.”

Julian

DECEMBER, YEAR 2

I can’t concentrate.

Nothing new, right? Nope. I ambeyonddistracted.

Grace has invaded my life. Every thought, every idea…they filter through her first.

Focused on the laptop before her, her fingers fly over the keys while Ling Ferris-Smith lectures at didactics. The screen of her computer glows in her eyes, and she chews on the inside of her lip, then reaches for the Starbucks cup beside her.

“Dr. Santini?”

I jerk my head to the side, meeting Ling’s stare.

She raises her eyebrows. “Can you name the causes of abnormal uterine bleeding?”

Grace’s flashcard appears in my head, and I recite the causes from memory. Hey, look at that. Is all the sex-free studying paying off?

Ling’s mouth tightens. She nods and continues her lecture.

I return to Grace, who’s now smiling triumphantly at me. I’m magnetized to her. If the lights disappeared and plunged us into blackness, I’d still find her. She’d glow, a glittering star illuminating the dark.

CREOGs are next month, the yearly assessment exams for OB-GYN residents nationwide. I’m meant to study. To concentrate.

Instead, I’m haunted by the imprint of her in my mind.

My watch buzzes.

Grace:Pay attention, Dr. Santini

I cock my head and stare at her. Her skin dyes an exquisite shade of pink. The vibration at my wrist pulls my attention down.

Grace:You’re being very obvious, Julian.

I pick up my phone to reply.

Me:I want you.

Her face goes crimson, and she slams her computer shut. She presses her palm over her mouth, pretending to pay attention to the lecture. The hungry predator deep inside me growls in rapture.

She won’t go public. Won’t let others know about us. I try not to think about that, to worry that she’s somehow ashamed of me, but the thoughts are there anyway. Is she keeping me a secret because I’m the embarrassing fling she’ll look back on and cringe? The dumb guy she settled for when nothing else was available, who couldn’t even afford the good letters?

Flirting with her like this—in plain view of all our colleagues—­satisfies the purely male portion of my brain that wants to claim her as mine.

Such a primitive desire, but I can’t help it.

I want her the way I want oxygen, and I’m desperately trying to maintain her boundaries until she’s ready—if she’s ever ready. I guess growing up in an overly affectionate household with four sisters who never stopped telling me how much they love me turned me into an incredibly needy man.

But I just like words of affirmation! Come at me.

So here are my rules:

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