Nate’s expression falters, and annoyance flashes across his face, quick but unmistakable. “Tessa,” he says, voice flat but controlled, “wh-what are you doing here?”
She still can’t seem to tear her eyes off him. It’s not subtle. I stand, and the room feels smaller, my body heavier.
Nate’s words seem to register, and her smile wavers. “Oh. Well, your receptionist said you were feeling under the weather and—” She shakes the takeout bag. “I just thought you’d want?—”
“Well, that was sweet of you, Tessa. But you shouldn’t have.”
She laughs softly, nervous. “Well, since I’m here…” Her line of sight lingers too low to be looking at his face. “Maybe we could eat together?—”
“Tessa”—his tone’s not short, but he leaves no room to argue—“Robyn’s here. Some other time, maybe. Not tonight.”
She finally looks past him and sees me. I smooth my hands down my legs before walking to the door. I stop beside Nate but don’t touch him.
“Hey, Tessa.”
“Hey,” she says, blinking once before fixing her face. “It’s been a while.” Her smile wavers, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I’m glad you were here for him. Maybe you can join us for our daily lunches soon. Nate said you don’t work far from us.”
My pulse skips.Daily lunches?I shouldn’t care. And I don’t. Except that defiant cock of her hip tells meshethinks I should.
Nate exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Tessa, I’m sorry you made the trip for nothing.” He doesn’t soundmalicious, but his annoyance is comforting. “Robyn and I were about to turn in.”
She hesitates, her grip tightening on the paper bag. “Sure,” she says, her voice softening into something almost sulky. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, then? We still haven’t tried that falafel place.”
“No,” Nate says, not harsh, but sharp. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll grab something at the office.”
She takes a second too long to smile, to assure Nate it’s not a big deal, and a flash of displeasure crosses her face. Nate’s gaze keeps flicking back to me as Tessa leaves, boots clicking down the hall. The door closes with a solidthunk.
I stand there a second too long, arms folded, the sound echoing between us. I’m not angry about the lunches. Not really. I’m angry about feeling blindsided.
Nate exhales again and scratches the back of his neck—an old tell. His stance shifts—shoulders tighter, jaw set.
“Why does it feel like I should’ve known you’ve been having lunch with her every day?” My voice is steady, but the quiet hum beneath it isn’t.
“Come on, Robyn,” he says, turning toward me. “You have lunch with Julian every day.”
“Yes. And you know about it.”
He arches his brow likeI’mthe one missing the point. “You have a guy friend you spend all your time with. You can’t be pissed I see my friend who happens to be a girl.”
“Nate… I’m only going to say this once. That girl doesn’t look at you the way friends look at each other.”
His brow furrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Figure it out, Nate.”
He shakes his head, exasperated. “No, Robyn. Just give it to me straight.”
“Fine.” My voice tightens. “The resident lounge is where we change. Julian’s half-naked half the time in there.Neveronce have I looked at him the way she looked at you tonight.”
His eyes narrow and tension settles in his shoulders. There’s something raw beneath the disbelief. He looks away, then back, restless energy in his hands. I gather my things—scrubs, sweater draped over the chair, my phone, my bag, and the movement fills the silence we aren’t ready to break.
“Where are you going?” he asks, voice low.
“I have an early day. I’m going home.”
“Youarehome,” he counters. Quiet but pointed.
The buzzer hums again, slicing through the air. Nate pulls his phone out of his sweats. “It’s the food. For real this time.”
