Page 5 of Hearts on the Table
“Gave her some work she won’t enjoy. Had to pull her off a big surgery.”
“Seems like you should apologize. Something like, ‘Hey, sorry about that thing. But I see your face in my dreams and I want to build you a house like inThe Notebookand fill it with our babies.’”
“William—”
“Besides, isn’t her program almost done? Surely this close to the finish line, the attending/fellow dating rule doesn’t apply.”
Yes, in fact, her program was almost done. Only two months and she’d be fair game. We had two open attending roles and one of them was practically hers for the taking. Then, once she had settled into her new job, maybe I would start thinking about ways to workThe Notebookinto our conversations. If she ever let me speak to her again.
“A few weeks won’t matter, bro. Ask her out.” Will clapped me on the back, then turned to the rest of the room. “Hey! Let’s have some fun today. Not many people brave the elements this early on a Saturday, so let’s make it count!” Will called to the five other attendees for today’s class.
“Let’s start on the bags for a treat. Pair off for me, Lainey and Sam, Erica and John…”
I carefully schooled my face to stop from glowering at my brother. Lainey’s expression turned sour for a heartbeat before she rose from the floor and stationed herself by a bag. She paid unnecessarily close attention as Will explained the warm up—a simple kick box combo that we’d switch back and forth. She fiddled with her hair and tied her shoe. Frowned down at her gloves as she pulled them on. Anything to avoid looking at me.
Finally, when she took a test punch at the bag, I stepped forward to stabilize it. My face was only a few inches from her fist. She couldn’t avoid me now.
“You’re mad.”
Punch, punch, kick.“No.”
I sighed, watching her execute a near-perfect combo again. “You’re upset about the EVLP.”
“I’d prefer”—kick—“not to speak about work things”—punch—“while I’m not at work.”Punch.
“Switch!” Will called. Lainey shook her hands out and took her spot behind the bag. I lobbed a few punches at it.
“It might help if you didn’t consider me your attending right now,” I offered. She laughed out loud.Yeah, right.I threw a few more combinations at the bag as she watched my feet in silence.
“Switch!”
She moved to the front and paused, swiping a small curl off her forehead. Some hairs had gotten stuck in her long, brown eyelashes. I held my breath, but she threw another punch without saying a word. Again, and again, and again. After a few rounds of that quiet, focused repetition, she started laying down a real beating. The next kick to the bag would have sent me staggering to the side if I hadn’t readjusted my hold.
“Aim a little higher. You can pretend it’s my head.”
A huff of laughter burst out of her lips even as she scowled. I wanted to make her angry-laugh until the day I died.
“I don’t…want to kick you…” she panted, throwing more combinations and mixing in a few new kicks, too. Sweat shone on her forehead, her cheeks glowing from the exertion.
“Arguable,” I muttered when her sneaker landed mere centimeters from my nose. Another huff, then more silence.
“Switch!”
Something about making her laugh made me bold. “Take my turn. You have more aggression to work out.”
“Reese…” she hissed, pacing away with her hands on her hips. She grimaced before throwing a few more punches.
“I’m sorry about the EVLP. And Jones,” I started once she got back into a rhythm. She cut me off before I could get any momentum going on a real apology.
“Jones is a buttface.”
I wasn’t going to touch that one. Jones was an entitled brat, but it didn’t mean he was a bad doctor. “I just went through this same thing with him a few months ago. Surgery isn’t always the answer. Check out his notes and you’ll see for yourself.”
I stumbled when she slammed a kick into the side of the bag. Her roundhouse made me want to fall to my knees and weep.Gorgeous.
“You could have”—punch—“just told me”—punch—“that.”Kick.
“You’d just have gone to Cooper.”
