I closed my eyes and let myself remember the way she sighed when I kissed her neck. The way her skin felt under my fingers. The way she looked at me like I was someone worth fighting for.
ELEVEN
LUCY
I stand behindthe front desk folding the same intake form for the third time. My fingers keep moving even though the paper is already neat. I can’t stop thinking about last night in Tiny’s truck. The way he kissed me like he couldn’t get close enough. The way he pulled back every time I tensed, checking my face before he kept going. My cheeks heat up just remembering it. I glance around the waiting room to make sure no one is looking at me.
Scarlett walks up to the counter carrying a stack of charts. She sets them down and leans her hip against the desk. Her eyes narrow a little as she studies me. “You’ve got that look again,” she says.
I smooth the form one more time and set it in the correct pile. “What look?”
“The same one you’ve had all morning where you’re smiling at nothing and your face is pink.” She lowers her voice. “Tiny?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. I can’t help the small smile that breaks through. “Maybe.”
Scarlett laughs quietly. “Good. You deserve it.” She glances toward the hallway to make sure no patients are close. “You doing okay after the fight with your dad?”
I nod, but my stomach twists at the memory of his raised voice. “It was bad.”
Scarlett’s expression softens. She reaches across the counter and squeezes my arm. “I’m proud of you, Lucy. That took a lot. If you need anything, somewhere to crash, someone to talk to, whatever, just say the word. We’ve got you.”
Her words sit warm in my chest. I swallow hard. “Thank you. Really.”
She gives my arm one more squeeze before she picks up the charts again. “Anytime. Now stop folding that poor form to death and go help Mrs. Langley with her insurance stuff. She’s been staring at the clipboard like it’s written in another language.”
I laugh a little and head over to the waiting area. The rest of the morning passes in a blur of phone calls and patient check-ins. Every time my phone vibrates in my pocket I feel a small jolt. Most of them are just Tiny checking in with silly messages. One says he’s thinking about me. Another asks if I’ve eaten. I answer between tasks, my fingers quick on the screen, and each reply makes the day feel lighter.
Sophie comes out of an exam room around eleven. She spots me at the desk and walks over, wiping her hands on a paper towel. Her reading glasses are pushed up on top of her head. She looks tired but her eyes are kind when they land on me. “You’re glowing today,” she says, keeping her voice low. “Anything you want to share?”
I feel my face warm again. “It’s nothing big. Just… Tiny and I talked last night.”
Sophie nods like she already knew. “That boy’s been texting Cole nonstop, asking how you’re doing, who in turn is texting me because he has no idea.” She laughs. “He’s worried about you.” She rests her elbow on the counter. “You know you can talk to me too, right? Not just as your boss. As someone who’s known Tiny since he was a scrawny kid stealing extra grilled cheese sandwiches from my kitchen.”
I smile at the image. “He mentioned something about that.”
“He ate four that first time and still asked what was for dinner.” Sophie chuckles. “Point is, he’s a good one. Loud and dramatic sometimes, but his heart’s in the right place. If he makes you happy, you hold onto that. Life’s too short to let other people decide who you get to care about.”
Her words settle over me. I nod, throat tight. “I’m trying.”
She gives me a gentle pat on the hand. “That’s all any of us can do. Now go take your lunch break when it’s slow. You look like you could use a minute to breathe.”
I finish up a few more tasks and clock out for lunch a little after one. My phone buzzes as I’m grabbing my bag.
Tiny: You free after your shift? I can pick you up somewhere quiet. I miss your face.
I smile down at the screen and type back.
Me: I get off at four today. Can we go to the clubhouse? I liked it there last time.
Tiny: Yeah. I’ll make sure it’s low key. See you soon, sweetheart.
The rest of my shift drags, but every time I check my phone there’s another message from him. Nothing big. Just little things that make me feel seen. When six finally comes I text my mom that I’m going to the library to study. She doesn’t question it. I slip out the back door and walk the two blocks to where Tiny said he’d be waiting.
His bike is parked at the curb. He’s sitting on it in his cut and jeans, helmet in his lap. The second he sees me his face changes. His shoulders relax. His eyes soften.
He stands up and holds out the extra helmet. “Hey.”
“Hi.” I take the helmet. My hands shake a little as I put it on. This will only be my second time on the bike.
