Page 58 of Hearts on the Table
I blinked at him. This was a dream. I’d left my car to sit cold and alone overnight in the R3parking lot. “What?”
Sam went sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind. I gave Will your keys. He’s driving it back here in a minute, and I’ll take him over to the gym on my way to work.”
“Whoareyou?” I should start calling him Super Sam. We shouldallstart calling him Super Sam. He was amazing. For some unknown reason, he chose to spend all his selfless, amazing energy on me.
That soft smile made another appearance. He pressed a few kisses across my cheeks. “I’m Sam. Nice to meet you.” Then he handed me my fully charged phone. I swooned.
After locking up with the code he’d given me (a code to someone’s house wasn’t equivalent to a key. Right? Maybe it was a temporary code that expired after a day, like one you could give to a house sitter.), I flicked through missed texts from last night.
A screenshot of a picture Tiago had sent him accompanied the last message. I was leaning over the table, grasping Jas’s arm and laughing. We were all smiling. My phone pinged, and I scrolled to a new message.
Days later, the texts still made me blush. Aside from sitting down to plan out our upcoming ablation, Sam and I had barely gotten to see each other since that morning. We did a good job of acting professional, giving each other the same distant courtesy that we used to. Though, admittedly, it was hard for me to remember what we used to be like.
Even though it was only a few weeks ago, pre-Sam times seemed foggy to me, like he’d walked into my world and turned on a light.
“Doctor Carmichael? A moment?”
I refrained from grinning like an idiot when I saw him coming down the hall, instead dismissing the residents I’d just finished leading through rounds before I turned to face him.
“What can I do for you, Doctor Reese?”
His gaze flicked to mine. He continued to both love and hate when I called him Doctor.
“I wanted to check something with your calendar.”
“Ah!” He smirked as I fumbled my laptop, ducking into the physician’s lounge to grab a table. Next month’s schedules came out today. As a senior fellow, I usually got my requests, but there were probably a few instances where Sam and my days wouldn’t completely match. He looked over my shoulder as I pulled up my calendar. Our eyes flicked between his screen and mine, comparing.
I couldn’t help smiling over my shoulder at him. All our off days lined up, as did most of our on-call and admin time. His gaze roamed my face, the corner of his mouth quirking.
“Sam,” I whispered, checking to make sure no one was around. Two doctors sat at a table in the corner, too far away to hear us. “What are we going to do with all this time? I mean, look at that!”
Next Friday, our calendars were identical, color-coded blocks. My next attending interview in the morning, our ablation surgery in the afternoon, then an entire night and the next day off. After only snatching a few hours together here and there, the concept of a whole two days together—nearly thirty-six hours of free time, at that—seemed like an embarrassment of riches.
“I have some ideas,” he murmured, pulling out his phone. I glanced through the rest of the month. My last as a fellow. My surgery schedule was packed, which was a good sign. Between standard procedures like stents, and more complicated ones like Sam’s ablation and a few others with Cooper, I was fully booked.All the rest of the time…I’d probably be somewhere in Sam’s vicinity. It felt too good to be true.
My phone chimed, and I glanced at the screen.Samuel Reese has shared a calendar invite with you!
A blue time block that simply said, “dinner”, nestled into the blank space of my personal calendar next Saturday night.
“Oh my God, did you just ask me on a date via calendar invite?” I hissed, grinning as I hit “Accept.”
“We’re not dating.” We shared a secret smile before I forced my attention back to my computer screen. There was only so much time we could spend smiling into each other’s eyes before people took notice. I glanced at the following month and its appointment-free days. By that point, it wouldn’t matter, would it? I’d be an attending and the trial period would be over. We’d be free to do this officially.
Honestly, if I could have slapped a title on him then and there, I would have. Despite a few bumps like my post-Katie freak out, I felt good about all of this. All those text exchanges and late-night phone calls and stolen, rushed lunches over the last few weeks had eased me into the concept of being with him, for real.
“Another surgery off the books.” I jumped as Cooper slammed his bag down on the table. “This is getting out of control. Someone needs to talk to Caplan.” He aimed a cutting look at Sam, who casually closed his laptop while he slid into a chair.
“Don’t look at me.”
“He listens to you. You’re the most level-headed one out of all of us. If you say something, he’ll do something.”
Sam shrugged, sitting back. “He hasn’t done anything yet.”
“Damn, that’s right. You almost blew a gasket when they switched Jones into that EVLP. Never seen you so worked up.”
I nearly strained my neck to stare at him. “Is that right?”
Sam’s eyebrows lifted. “It was bullshit.”
