Page 58 of Cluelessly Yours

“That’s what I thought you meant to say.” She purses her lips. “And don’t forget Noah.”

“Right.AndNoah,” he agrees with a chuckle and rubs an affectionate palm over a wagging-tail Chanandler’s back.

“I hope that coffee cup is an optical illusion, Dr. Hopkins,” I say chidingly. “Because I know you didn’t keep us waiting on you while you stopped to caffeinate.”

“I got it from the hospital cafeteria…six hours ago. So, you can relax. Some of us didn’t have the luxury of sleeping in our own beds for the last twelve hours.”

“That’s because you chose to work in the ED,” Kendall teases. “Chump move.”

“Excuse me?” I question with narrowed eyes. “I didn’t sleep either because your ass called me in.”

“Oh yeah,” he answers with a nod. “I almost forgot about that.”

“That’s convenient because I sure as shit didn’t forget about you ruining my night.”

“Ruin your night?” Dale scoffs. “I called you at four this morning, Philips. What else were you doing besides sleeping?”

Sleeping with a soft, warm, perfect, very naked Sammy wrapped around my body like ivy, my mind silently corrects him.

“And how bad could it have been?” he questions with a real dickish smile. “It’s not like sitting on a little stool and monitoring O2 sats is hard labor.”

“The guy who spends most of his night playing stand-up comedian in the nurses station is talking to me about hard labor? Ha.” My fake laugh is the definition of mockery. “That’s cute.”

“Oh, boys, boys, boys.” Kendall steps in between us. “Could you save your pissing match for another day? Chanandler and I are ready to run, and by the looks of Dolly, she is too.”

Dolly wags her tail, and Chanandler barks his approval.

“All right,” I agree and reach down to give Dolly’s head a rub. “Let’s do it.”

Dale tosses his cup in the nearby garbage can. “Start us off, babe.”

Kendall takes the lead, jogging in front of our group, and only turns back to look at Dale and me to make a final point we’re both entirely familiar with after ten years of friendship. “Plus, both of you know if we’re going to get into a dick-measuring match about our jobs, I’d win any day!” she calls over her shoulder, her smile snide enough to match her words.

Since she’s a fucking neurosurgeon—the top one in the country, actually—Dale and I don’t even bother with a response.

We also don’t try to keep up with Kendall and Chanandler’s swift pace. It’s not long before they’ve left us in the dust. In no time at all, Dale, Dolly, and I are almost startingly alone on the path of the park that skirts Columbus Circle.

“How’d that bypass go, by the way?” Dale asks.

“Took nearly six hours,” I answer and guide Dolly to my left side to give a guy on a bike a little more space to pass. “His heart was a mess, but Weller managed.”

“I knew that surgery was going to be complicated. It’s why I called you to come in, even though you were second call.”

“Wait…I wasn’t the only anesthesiologist on call?”

“Blake Houston was first call.”

“You bastard.” I purposefully shove him with my free hand.

“Hey,” he says with a chuckle as he finds his balance again. “You and I both know Blakey boy would’ve only caused Weller more stress. He’s too new. Too young. He still needs time to get his feet wet before he can handle the big-boy surgeries.”

All I can do is sigh and keep jogging.

“Wait…are you pissed at me for calling you in?” Dale asks, a smile firmly intact on his face. I’ve known this man for years, and unless he has a gunshot victim bleeding out on his ER table, taking anything seriously isn’t his forte.

Which is why I don’t even dignify him with a response. Instead, I focus on running.And mentally thinking about what it would’ve been like if I’d actually gotten to wake upwithSammy.

“All right,” Dale announces about a mile into our six-mile run. “What’s your deal today, Philips?”

---