Page 8 of Paging Dr. Summers

“Breathe,” she reminded herself. “Anyway, before I make a fool of myself again, I just want you to know that yesterday wasn’t the best reflection of me. And that I hope we’ll be good neighbors this summer.”

I stared blankly at her, trying to process what she’d said. She sounded more like the woman on her podcast, which I wasn’t sure was a good thing. That woman spoke to me. Regardless, I admired her candor.

“You don’t need to apologize. If anything, I should. My behavior in the ER yesterday didn’t reflect who I am as a physician. You caught me off guard,” I said lamely.

“Yeah, I bet I did. It’s probably not every day you treat a patient who word vomits and comes on to you—well, sort of. I wasn’t reallycoming on to you. And maybe you have a lot of patients who come on to you. You are pretty.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. A few patients had propositioned me over the years, but most had been inebriated.

“Gosh.” She covered her mouth. “There I go again. Anyway, I’ll quit talking.”

I found I didn’t want her to, so I tortured myself and asked something intelligent like, “So, you like Elton John?” I pointed at the old boom box.

She did me no favors when her face lit up and revealed exactly how beautiful she and her flawless complexion were. Damn it, she even had an adorable dimple on her left cheek.

I cleared my throat, reminding myself I didn’t want to be anyone’s summer fling, and that she was quite a bit younger than me. Not like nine years was a tremendous difference in age, but it was enough. I wouldn’t be one of those men who moved on with a younger woman. I wasn’t even sure I could move on from Erica. Was there some rule that said I had to?

“I love him. Do you know what inspired this song, ‘Rocket Man’?”

“No.”

“Author Ray Bradbury’s short story by the same name. It’s about a man torn between his job as an astronaut and his family. The song’s themes also relate to the hardships of fame. Did you know that Elton John played a melody of this song and ‘Space Oddity’ as a tribute to David Bowie after his death?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Did you know Elton John was a piano prodigy?” She grinned. “I’m talking too much again.”

“I like it.” I hadn’t meant to say that, but it was true. There was something about her, as quirky as she was.

Her grin turned even wider.

“I didn’t know he was a prodigy,” I stuttered like an unsure teenage boy.

“The Royal Academy of Music gave him a scholarship when he was only eleven years old. Crazy, right?”

I nodded, warring with myself. Part of me wanted to run away, and the other part of me pointed at the telescope.

“What are you using that for?” I asked, like I didn’t know what a telescope was.

Brooke looked up at the brilliant sky, now painted in dark shades of orange and pink. “I’m waiting for the stars to appear. One of my bucket list items is to stargaze.”

“You know, it can take a good hour or two for the stars to appear after sunset,” I said, sounding more like a smart aleck than I meant to. I just didn’t want her to waste her time.

“Oh, I know. It’s just so peaceful out here. I thought I would enjoy some music and food.” She held up the picnic basket. “I bought dinner from the Moon Café. Have you been there?”

“Yeah. It’s great.” I usually stopped there once a week after my shift at the hospital.

“It has excellent online reviews. I ordered way more than I can eat because it all sounded so good, and I couldn’t decide what to get. Do you want some of it?” Her cheeks turned a shade of dark pink. “I mean, would you like to eat dinner with me, neighbor?”

Truthfully, the answer was, I did. But I was afraid to knock on a door I wasn’t ready to walk through. I was even more afraid Brooke Crawford might open it, and I would stroll right in, throwing caution out the window.

“Thank you for the invitation, but Eden made dinner.” I made my excuses.

“I wouldn’t miss out on that. She’s amazing.” Brooke smiled and waved. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” I numbly walked away, glancing behind me to watch Brooke lean back, close her eyes, and smile. The song “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” began to play. The last rays of the sun kissed her smooth skin, and suddenly I felt as if I were missing out.

I LEANED BACK ON THE blanket and closed my eyes, feeling more settled. I was proud of myself for having a semi-normal conversation with Logan Summers. At least I hadn’t asked him to be my fling. Although I’d had to stop myself from gawking at him in his running shorts and tight athletic T-shirt. Wowzers, was he in fantastic shape.

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