The accuracy of his assessment makes my stomach clench. "I'm her supervisor. There are ethical considerations—"
"Save the HR handbook recitation for someone who hasn't known you for half your life." Arjun leans back, watching me with that infuriating mix of amusement and understanding. "You're not treating her like this because of professional boundaries. You're treating her like this because she scares the shit out of you."
"That's ridiculous," I scoff, but it sounds weak even to my own ears.
"Is it? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you've met someone who challenges you, who doesn't back down, who makes you feel something. And your response is to try to crush her spirit rather than admit you might actually like her."
I stare at him, speechless in the face of his brutal honesty. This is why Arjun and I have remained friends despite my best efforts to push everyone away. He sees through my defenses and calls me on my bullshit.
"What do you suggest?" I finally ask.
"Start by not being an asshole," he tells me matter-of-factly. "That would be a refreshing change of pace."
Despite everything, a reluctant laugh escapes me. "Fair point."
"And then," he continues, leaning forward again. "If you’re hell-bent on not pursuing her, you need to get laid."
I blink at the abrupt shift. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You need a warm, willing body to work off all that tension has you wound tighter than sutures on a vascular repair." He checks his watch again. "And as luck would have it, I know just the place."
"If you're about to suggest some kind of escort service—"
"Please. Give me some credit." He rolls his eyes. "I'm talking about Pulse. Best club in the city, excellent music, and attractive people looking for no-strings-attached fun." He spreads his hands. "The perfect antidote to that sexual frustration has you acting like more of a dick than usual."
"A club?" I repeat, incredulous. "Have you lost your fucking mind? I'm not going to a club. I'm forty, not twenty-five."
"Thirty-nine," he corrects. "And age is irrelevant. The point is to get you out of your head and preferably into someone else's bed."
I run a hand through my hair, grasping for reasons this is a terrible idea. "What if someone from the hospital sees me?"
"Then they'll see a doctor having a social life, not committing a felony." Arjun's eyes sparkle with amusement. "Besides, most of the staff are too terrified of you to say anything even if they did see you."
"I don't have club clothes," I try, growing desperate.
"You're wearing seven hundred dollar shoes and a tailored shirt that costs more than some people's rent. You'll be fine." He stands, clearly considering the matter settled. "I'll pick you up at ten."
"I'm not going to a club, Arjun."
"Yes, you are." He heads for the door, his tone brooking no argument. "Because the alternative is another night alone withyour hand and whatever thoughts are making you torture that poor woman and everyone around you."
The arrow hits dead center, leaving me momentarily winded. The thought of another night in my empty apartment, another session of getting myself off to fantasies of Mia, another morning of waking up hating myself… suddenly a crowded club doesn't sound like the worst option.
"Fine," I concede, my voice gruff with reluctance. "But I'm leaving by midnight, regardless of whether you've found your... entertainment for the evening."
My asshole friend’s smile is triumphant. "Deal."
I grab my coat and keys from the hook behind the door and shut down my computer. "I still think this is ridiculous."
"Noted. And yet, you're coming anyway." He holds the door open, gesturing for me to precede him. "Progress."
I flick off the lights as we leave, casting one last glance at the stacks of unread journals and case files. For the first time in a week, my shoulders feel marginally lighter. Not because I believe Arjun's asinine club plan will solve anything, but because for a few hours, at least, I might escape the endless loop of guilt and desire that's been consuming me.
As we head toward the elevator, Arjun chatting about his latest patient, I allow myself to hope that tonight might provide enough distraction to reset whatever's broken in me. Enough distance to return on Monday with my professional mask firmly in place, ready to treat Mia with the respect she deserves rather than the cruelty my fear has been driving.
It's a small hope, but right now, it's all I have.
Chapter 13
