Chapter seventeen
Yosh
Istab my fork into the stew a couple of times, then switch to the rice.
No. I don’t want that either. I don’t want to eat at all, but I have to. Otherwise it will look off.
I don’t want to look off.
Oh my God. how did we even get here? And now I can’t forget how good he’d felt on top of me. Daring me, his knee moving inbetween my legs. I hope he didn’t notice how hard I got. That would’ve been catastrophic.
This can’t happen. We can’t happen.
Is there even a we?
He’s one hundred percent straight, so it’s all in my head. It has to be.
Luckily, the resort’s generator kicked in just in time, or I would’ve made the biggest mistake of my professional career.
I take a bite of carrot, the crunch echoing in my ear.
Actually, no. Nothing beats the affair I had with a colleague, a senior surgeon, and a nurse who just happened to be his husband. They had no idea about each other.
Until they did.
And then the whole hospital escalated.
Scratch that, the entire Upper East Side escalated.
Tiffy was right. Deep Diver too. I’m the problem. I’m a walking red flag.
“Where’re you from?”
Tom’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
Wait. Is he talking to me? Yes, idiot. Who else?
“United States.”
“Nope. Doesn’t work like that. I need a bit more than that.”
“I…”
Shit. This isn’t the conversation I want to have.
I don’t talk about myself. Ever. It’s something I avoid at all costs. Do I give him a sliver of truth? Build a façade like I usually do?
Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to let someone see me for once. Even if that feels terrifying.
I want him to see me.
“I was born in Seattle, moved to San Francisco when I was seven. Lived in New York too.”
“Cool. Any siblings?”
I look down, scraping the last grains of rice onto my fork while I search for an answer I don’t want to give.
He grins.
