Page 92 of Careless Whisper

“We absolutely are.”

She kissed the edge of my jaw. “Then you’re behind.”

“Guess I better fix that.”

CHAPTER 33

Elias

Sex in my apartment wasn’t bad, but it could be…logistically challenging.

The ceiling fan rattled like it was held together with hope and a prayer. The water heater wheezed if we flushed the toilet. And the bed was small for me alone, so when we were together, I’d taken to sleeping curled around Reggie like I was protecting her from falling off. Which, to be fair, I was happy to do. But it also wasn’t sustainable. Neither was tiptoeing around her parents’ house like teenagers, trying not to get caught making out during Thanksgiving.

Reggie rolled over one morning, hair messy, T-shirt askew, and said, “If I have to slide into another supply closet just to steal five minutes with you, I’m going to scream.”

“I thought you liked supply closets and on-call rooms,” I offered, smirking.

She gave me a look that could stop a heart faster than a clot. “That wasthen. We’re grown-ups now.”

Speaking ofnow—we were happy here,butwe weren’t settled. We were in limbo—loving each other but not sure where we’d land. My six-month sabbatical from Harper was ticking down, and we both knew it.

It was just a question of who would say it first

She said it over grilled corn in her parent’s backyard. They were gone for the weekend, so we’d taken over their house. It was nice to have a full-sized bed and a proper shower.

“I think I want to go back.”

I blinked, fingers pausing mid-husk. “To Seattle?”

Reggie nodded. “To the OR. To my life. I miss it. The chaos, the urgency, the team.”

“You’ve built a great place,” I reminded her gently. I didn’t want to take her away from the clinic if that’s what she wanted.

“I have,” she agreed. “And I’ll always be grateful for it. It gave me space to breathe. But I became a nurse because I wanted to make a difference in acute care. And…I finally feel strong enough to go back without flinching at shadows.”

She didn’t look at me while she spoke, just focused on the corn, like she was bracing for me to disagree. I reached over and covered her hand.

“Then we go back.”

She looked up, cautious hope softening the lines of her face. “Just like that?”

“I’ve already got one regret tattooed into my soul,” I said. “Not making the same mistake twice seems like a good life goal.”

“You think I’ll have a job at Harper Memorial or do I have to look for one?” She sighed. “Luther closed my apartment. Everything is in storage and?—”

“Let me take care of the logistics.”

“Then what will I take care of?”

I gave her a salacious look. “I have a few ideas.”

“Men,” she muttered, but she was smiling.

Dr. Cabrera picked up on the first ring. “About time,” he said. “I was beginning to think you’d decided to become a tequila distiller.”

“Tempting…but maybe as a second career,” I joked.

“So?”

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