Page 12 of Hearts on the Table
He nodded, considering me. “Alright. I’ll request you if I go down that road.”
Our eyes were locked. I couldn’t tear my gaze away. Though the table seated twelve, the room was getting smaller by the second. I swallowed. His eyes didn’t waver from my face.
“You could give it to Jones, you know. I don’t want you to feel like…” I trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence.I don’t want you to feel like you have to give me the cool surgical case just because you have the hots for me?
He shrugged. “You asked first.”
“Right, right.” My head bobbed up and down. Another few seconds of silence descended on our little staring competition. I broke it again, succumbing to the intrusive thought that maybehewasonly giving me the cool surgical case because he was attracted to me.
“I just mean…I wouldn’t want any special treatment because…because…of what you said earlier. In the parking lot. This weekend.”Shut up, Lainey! As if he needed to be reminded of the particulars of the conversation. Or, heck, maybe he did. Maybe he ran around in all his spare time talking about long-term unrequited crushes with everyone he knew.
“It hasn’t been a problem so far.”
His face was as expressionless as ever, but something about it seemed amused. Well, he had every right to be amused. I was being ridiculous. I’d been ridiculous all day long, with all my staring. And here I was, still doing it.
I couldn’t decide if it was better or worse now that he was staring back at me.
“Is this weird for you?” I whispered.
A pause. “Not weird, no.”
Ah, well. Just me then.
“I’m attracted to you. I have been for a while.”Despite the tension in the air and the weight of his eyes on me, something about his bare honesty this weekend gave me enough courage to lay my own confession on the table between us.
“I’ve been staring at you a lot today.”
“Yes.” He nodded. So, hehadnoticed.
“I can’t help it. Ever since this weekend and what…what you said. I can’t look at you the same.”
He scowled. It was possibly the most movement I’d ever seen on his face. “I didn’t intend to make you uncomfortable or to change anything between us. I apologize if—"
“No, no.” I waved my hand like I could swat his apology out of the air. “No, it’s not you. It’s totally me. I hadn’t thought of you like that before and now…now it’s like you’re a totally new person.”
It felt like I’d spent the last three years going about my life and then someone had pointed out there was a bear in the corner of the room I’d never noticed before. It was shocking. And I couldn’t stop staring at it. Or, you know,him.
“Hmm.” His thumb traced back and forth over the edge of his laptop. The movement hypnotized me. “You said that before. You’d never thought of me that way.”
“No. Never.”
“Oof.”
“I didn’t mean that you’re not—” A smile cracked across his face before my horrified gasp was complete.
“I’m kidding, Lainey.” His fingers flickered through the air before returning to the edge of his keyboard.Back and forth and back and forth. “I’m not the most outgoing guy in the world. There aren’t a lot of reasons for you to think of me that way.”
“More than you’d think,” I muttered before leaning in like we were conspirators. “Some people on our floor call you ‘Daddy Reese.’”
“Jesus,” he stuttered. Finally,finally, his eyes slid away. His cheeks started working on a flush of their own. Something in my competitive little brain cheered. A reaction.Yes.
“I’m serious. Someone told me that everyone has had a crush on you at some point.Everyone,” I repeated when his incredulous gaze swung to mine. He maintained eye contact even as his blush deepened.
“I’ll have to ask Whitaker next time I see him.” His fingers ran over his beard again, like he was seriously considering it.
A cackling laugh burst out of me at the thought of him asking the oldest, most curmudgeonly surgeon in the hospital if the old guy had a crush on him. The sound echoed in the big, empty room. His flush burned bright now, but so did his grin, and yet his eyes never left mine. That gastrointestinal flutter became a full on stampede.
“It’s a slippery slope,” I warned. “Once you know Whitaker’s into you, you can’t close that Pandora’s box. Next time you’re in the same office with him, you’re going to look over and suddenly notice how nice his hands are, or his shoes…or something.”
