Page 46 of Hearts on the Table
“It’s okay.”
Her ponytail tickled my chin as her head shook. “It’s not. And Ihavebeen avoiding you. That’s not okay, either.”
“Yeah, what’s that about?” I pressed my lips to the crown of her head because I couldn’t help myself. Despite having been at the hospital for over twenty-four hours, she still smelled like vanilla. And antiseptic. Like Lainey.
She sighed, tilting her head to rest her chin on my chest. Her face was inches from mine. “Katie freaked me out. I think she suspects something’s going on with us.”
I grunted, thinking while my fingers slid through her ponytail. The curls were soft, wild. “You think it’ll be a problem?”
“I don’t know. It just made me jumpy. I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.” In another life, maybe I would have made her work for my acceptance. But I only had one life, and I only had this one girl. Dodging me for a few days wouldn’t make me give up on her. I was here for the long haul. The sooner she realized it, the better.
She smiled at my quick response. “I probably don’t deserve that.” We were whispering, voices low so we could hear if someone walked in.
“You’re not the only one who’s had a bad day. I’m just happy to see you.” Between the board and her ex and the patient crises, I was ready to call it and pull the covers over my head till morning, ideally with her in bed beside me, but I knew that couldn’t happen. Not tonight.
Not only had she been avoiding me for the better part of a week, but she had an early on-call tomorrow morning, then prep for a surgery with Cooper, and her first interview for the attending role. As much as I wanted to take her home and drown both our sorrows between the sheets, today wasn’t the day.
“You look tired.” Her fingers traced underneath my eyes. I’m sure I looked like a warmed-over sack of shit, but it was nice of her to sugarcoat it.
“You, too. Walk out with me. You can go home and sleep.”
Her brows pinched. This time, I indulged myself in smoothing the little wrinkle away, marveling at how easy this was, once we were on the same page. She felt right in my arms, leaning into my touch like she wanted more.
“I was just going to tough it out here tonight. I’m not on call but…I can’t go home. I’ll just toss and turn.” The sadness lurking behind her eyes made me want to punch something.
“Grab your stuff.” I stepped back, rummaging again through my bag and reminding myself to keep my hands off her when we were in public.
“I don’t want to go home right now, Sam.”
I handed her a protein bar. “We’re not going home.”
Chapter 17
Sam
“Now connected to device: Sam’s a pussy.”
“Will’s handiwork, I assume?”
I sighed. It was nice that I had a key to my brother’s gym, and he was cool with me coming in at weird hours between shifts. But it also meant he did dumb shit like label my phone under ridiculous names in the Bluetooth system. And, of course, it connected the instant Lainey walked out of the women’s locker room.
My workout playlist filtered through the speakers as I patted the mat beside me. She dropped onto it, folding into a stretch that made my jaw clench. The Powerade and a second protein bar had brought me back from the brink of unconsciousness on the drive over here. But that didn’t mean now was an ideal time to notice how deliciously bendy she was.
“This was a good idea. Do you do this often? Break in at odd hours?”
I nodded, thrilled to focus on something other than her forehead touching her shins, and the subsequent thoughts I had about seeing just how far she’d be able to bend with my cock inside of her.Shit. I flipped on my back to stare at the ceiling and stretch out my hamstrings. The last few days without her had made me feel deprived. Desperate. But she was going through something, dammit. And we’d both had shitty days. I needed to get looser, not harder.
“Often enough. Sometimes, if I don’t come in the middle of the night, I don’t get a workout.”
She grunted in agreement. “I don’t get to the gym nearly as much as I want, and I hate that. One time, a nanny told me I was ‘excitable’ if I didn’t get enough exercise, which was just code for loud, I think.”
“You’re not loud.”
She shifted on the mats beside me, changing sides. I did not look. “Take that up with Maria. She was Montessori-trained with a PhD in child development. If she said excitable, it was practically a diagnosis. It’s why my parents got me so involved in sports when I was young. Now, if I don’t hit the gym at least twice a week, I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin.”
“Is she the one who taught you not to curse, too?”
