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I sit up, throw my head back on the headrest, and let out a long, humiliated sigh. “So Graham and I were talking yesterday.”
“The hot doctor? Dr. Shack-me-up-well?” Morgan asks.
“Yes, that one.” Morgan and I have been friends since college, so she’s never met Graham, but I explained the whole backstory when he started working at the hospital. She was there when Kyle warned me about him.
“And anyway, we ended up in the supply room.”
“SHUT YOUR DIRTY MOUTH,” she yells into the phone, and I think it’s definitely going to contribute to hearing loss in my old age. It was so loud. I hope for her sake no one was around her to hear her outburst.
“What happened? Did you kiss? Tell me you kissed. You were in the supply room? Wait, how did you get him to go in the supply room? I thought you said that didn’t happen in real life?”
“Oh my gosh, please take a breath,” I say, genuinely worried about the amount of oxygen she’s taking in. I didn’t think she’d really need to be sitting down for this, but now I feel like I should have said something.
I hear her take a big inhale and exhale. “Okay. Now tell me.”
“We took our lunch break together.”
“Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. I’m loving this already.”
“It was just lunch,” I say. “We were catching up. It’s been a while.”
“Got it.”
“So, on the way back, Graham needed to get something from the supply room, so I helped him find it.”
“It’s like something from a movie,” she says, her voice wistful.
“Yes, a horror one,” I say.
“So what happened?”
I stall because this is the part I don’t want to say out loud, feeling my cheeks heat up as I recall what happened. I think back to yesterday, how I put my hands on his chest, how forward I was, and then Evie showed up, and I sort of would like to ... I don’t know ... drive to a new town and assume a different identity. I just want to run away.
I can’t, though, because as soon as I finish this call, I have to walk into the hospital and see him again. Why do we have to work the same shift again today? It’s like adding insult to injury. The thought feels about as enjoyable as attempting to start an IV on someone with tiny veins.
I thought about calling in sick. I’ve never once done it and today felt like a good day to start. But I talked myself out of it.
“Tell me!” Morgan says, impatient as always.
“So,” I reluctantly continue. “Then I remembered your challenge and I thought maybe I could get him to kiss me.”
“You did not,” she says, sounding like a woman possessed. Like she might explode at any moment. “So did he?”
“No,” I say. “We nearly got caught.”
“What?”
“By Evie.”
“That flat root beer!” she exclaims.
“That was a good one,” I say, my voice sad and expressionless even though I liked the insult and will probably use it later.
“How did you get out of it?”
I slump down in my seat. “I pretended like I was crying.”
“And she bought it?” Morgan knows my acting skills are subpar.
