Page 37 of Love Sick

“That will never happen,” Julian says, sliding into a seat next to Asher, apple and bowl of soup in hand. “Sapphire wouldn’t know fun if it bit her in the ass.”

I glare at him and his stupid scrubs and his perfect hair and the stubble on his cut jaw that reminds me of Robert Pattinson. Becauseof coursemy subconscious would compare this man to Edward Cullen—pretend boyfriend of my preteen self.

Julian wouldn’t feed on animals. No. He’d go straight for the human carotid.

I lean my elbows on the table. “Ha. You’re so funny. You know all about funny, don’t you? Being best friends with the Joker and all.”

His eyes flash, almost like they’re lit from within. Hmm. Does he actually like this fighting thing we do? Every time I start something, he seems to just…come alive.

“Yeah,” he says. “Him and the Riddler are taking me out for drinks later. It’s a whole thing. Don’t tell Batman.”

Asher laughs. “What’re you on this month, Santini?”

As usual, Julian’s intense stare is locked on me. “Surgery.” He tilts his head. “It’s really not as bad as I was led to believe.”

I scoff. Under my breath, I mutter, “That’s because you’re a man.”

“Or maybe it’s because I don’t complain about everything.”

I lean farther over the table and lower my voice. “You’d complain too if they spent the whole month using you as a sounding board for their hallowed thoughts on how terribly OB-GYNs are trained and anytime you tried to defend yourself, they were too distracted by your tits to listen.”

Asher’s snort is a distant intrusion into my standoff with my arch nemesis.

“Well. To be fair, my tits are very distracting,” he says.

His eyes remain focused on mine, but his peripheral vision is tangible, and I have to fight the urge to cross my arms over my chest. Everything slows. Heat creeps up my neck, burns across my cheeks. His face hardly moves, but as he takes in my reaction, satisfaction gleams in that bare expression.

He won that one, and we both know it.

To my utter horror, Daniel Halliwell sits next to Julian, disgusting hospital slop on his plate. He nods in my direction. “Grace.”

I strangle an awkward laugh. It comes out as a choke. “Hi.”

Asher glances at me, then folds his hands behind his head. “Thought you were too good to sit with us peasants, Halliwell. Your people kick you out?”

Daniel looks around the room, empty of other residents. A few med students huddle together around one table. “You’re the lesser of two evils.”

Asher gives his head a small irritated shake. “I’m honored.”

I sit straight and try for a smile. “Are you Julian’s senior this month, Dr. Halliwell?”

Daniel scrutinizes Julian. “Yeah. He’s actually got some talent. Gives me hope for your specialty, after all.”

I curl my painted pink nails into my palms, but keep my smile frozen in place. He wouldn’t know if I had talent because I was never allowed to hold a scalpel or suture.

Julian perks an eyebrow, sending a challenging expression and mouthing,You want me to show him my tits?

“That’s good,” I say faintly, numbing the desire to laugh.

Asher chuckles under his breath. “You’re gonna die alone, Danny.” He turns to me. “You done? Let’s go check our laboring patients.”

I nod and gather my trash while he throws his away.

“I’ll meet you up there,” he says. “Gotta pee.”

Okay, then. “Thanks for the info,” I mutter.

“Hey, Grace? Wait up.”

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