"Whoever patched you up. Better than the guy who closed my shoulder at Mount Sinai."
"Yeah."
"A woman?"
"Yeah."
"Christ. Falling in love with a nurse? You hopeless romantic."
"She's not a nurse."
"That makes it worse."
"You get her number?"
"No."
Reyes stares at me.
"You got shot saving a mysterious woman, disappeared for three days, got stitched up in what looks like a private surgical suite?—"
"It was a cabin."
"That somehow makes this worse."
"Reyes."
"Did you sleep with her?"
I look at him.
"No."
He goes quiet for a beat.
"That face says somehow that’s even more embarrassing."
He goes.
Partners are for the times you cannot be honest with yourself, Seanie.
I should be thinkingabout my mother.
About Frank.
About the fact that my entire life may be built on a lie.
Instead, I keep seeing Nadia against that kitchen wall.
Hair wrecked. Mouth swollen from kissing me.
Tell me to stop.
I’m not telling you to stop.
Christ.
I almost died yesterday, and somehow that is still the thing ruining my concentration.
