“I... is Dr. Lyon here?” I managed, pulling my hand back before Fitz could do something weird, like kiss it. He looked like the type who might kiss hands.
“Gabriel? Oh, he’s upstairs. Emergency call from the hospital.” Fitz’s grin somehow widened, which I hadn’t thought was physically possible. “He asked me to let you in. Said something about Megan needing breakfast.”
Right. Megan. My actual job. The reason I was here.
Not to have a mental breakdown about towels.
Not to be visually devoured by a man who looked like he’d stepped out of a CW show about attractive doctors who were also secretly vampires.
“Oh. Okay. Great. I’ll just—” I gestured vaguely toward the interior of the house.
Fitz stepped aside, but not very far aside. I had to squeeze past him, and I swear he angled himself so I’d have to brush against him. The man had the spatial awareness of a golden retriever who wanted attention, except golden retrievers were cute and this was just... uncomfortable.
“You know,” Fitz said as I entered, “Gabriel didn’t mention how pretty you were.”
My brain made a sound like a record scratch.
Pretty? Me? The woman who’d shown up to her job interview late, sweaty, and covered in skateboard-related guilt? The woman who’d fled from a man in a towel while babbling about “towel situations”? The woman who’d just spent the entire drive here having an anxiety spiral about ABBA and butter knives?
“I... thank you?” It came out like a question, because honestly, I wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or the opening line of a horror movie.
Fitz closed the door behind me, still grinning. “He said you were good with Megan. Didn’t mention the rest.”
The rest? What rest? What was happening? Why was this man talking to me like we were in a rom-com and he was the charming love interest, when I was very clearly the disaster protagonist who was supposed to be pining after the grumpy main character who’d answered the door in a towel?
This wasn’t in the script. This wasn’t part of the plan.
I’d prepared for Gabriel’s awkwardness, not... whatever this was.
“I should—” I pointed toward the stairs. “Megan. Breakfast. Job.”
Wow. Eloquent, Cate. Really selling that college education.
“Of course.” Fitz’s eyes sparkled with amusement, as if he could see every single chaotic thought ricocheting around my skull and found it entertaining. “Don’t let me keep you. Though if you ever want to grab coffee sometime.”
“CATE!”
Megan’s voice echoed from upstairs, and I’d never been so grateful to hear a child yelling in my entire life.
“Coming!” I called back, already moving toward the stairs like they were a life raft and I was drowning in a sea of unwanted flirtation.
Fitz chuckled behind me. “See you around, Cate.”
I practically ran up the stairs.
What... the hell... just happened?
I’d spent an hour preparing to face Gabriel. Gabriel, who I’d seen in a towel. Gabriel, who I’d dreamed about naked and dancing. Gabriel, who made my brain short-circuit just by existing, and instead I’d been ambushed by his colleague who looked like he’d walked off the set of a medical drama and decided to audition for the role of “Guy Who Makes Everything Weird.”
I reached the top of the stairs, my heart pounding, my thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and residual panic.
Megan poked her head out of her room. “You’re here!”
“What? Why wouldn’t I—” I stopped myself.
Focus. Professional.
“I work here, remember?”
