Page 69 of One Reckless Night

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JARED

Ispent another night awake, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. Sleep was impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Amelia’s face—her hurt, her disappointment, her resolve as she walked out of my house.

I knew I messed things up. I wasn’t even sure why. I told myself it was for the best, that keeping her at arm’s length was the right thing to do. But maybe I was just scared. Scared of letting her in, scared of getting hurt, scared of being vulnerable.

Gemma did a number on me. I hated that. Hated that I allowed myself to be vulnerable. It made me feel weak. The thought of ever letting myself get involved with someone else terrified me.

Did that make me even more of a coward?

Probably.

I wasn’t a complete fool. I knew I was making my life difficult. I could choose to put down the walls and take a chance. That wasn’t me. I had important work to focus on, and trying to navigate a romantic relationship was just a distraction.

I dragged myself out of bed, headed for the kitchen, and started the coffee maker.

I leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching the drip of coffee like it might give me answers. I kept thinking distance would heal things, make things clearer, but it was just the opposite.

She was different.

The words echoed in my mind. Why did I have to say it that way? It was true. She wasn’t like anyone else. Amelia didn’t just accept the walls I put up. She challenged them, demanded more from me than anyone else ever had. She could see what I refused to show—what I hardly admitted to myself.

The sky outside was a flat gray, threatening rain or maybe just an endless overcast day. It suited my mood perfectly. There was no hiding from this tight, painful knot in my chest. I didn’t know if it was real pain or if it was lack of use. My heart had been frozen for a long time. This whole feelings thing was very unpleasant. I wanted to turn it off again. But something told me not to. I had to hold on. To what, I didn’t know.

I poured the coffee and took it to the window. I should find her. Apologize again. Tell her… what? That she deserved better? That she should wait for me to figure myself out? That last thought made me grit my teeth.

She wouldn’t wait forever. Nor should she.

I had been going out of my way to avoid her the last couple of days. I didn’t walk past her lab, didn’t drop in to check on her research, didn’t even glance in the direction of her lab. It was easier that way. Or at least, that was what I told myself. But the truth was, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. About the way she’d looked at me, the way she’d said, I want more. And the way I’d let her walk away.

I finished my coffee and got dressed for the day. Once again, I found myself going in the side door to avoid her. It was early, long before most of the researchers were even in the lab. I was doing a surgery today and wanted to take a few minutes to review the case and my plan to remove the tumor that was going to be a real bitch to get to.

The OR was cold, sterile, just the way I liked it. I thought being here would clear my head, help me focus and forget for a little while.

My assistant, Taylor, was already scrubbing in. “Good morning.”

I nodded, trying to lose myself in the routine, the familiarity. “You ready for this one?”

“It’s gonna be a challenge,” she said, sounding excited.

That was what I usually lived for—the challenges. But today, my mind wasn’t letting go of Amelia as easily as I’d hoped. Focus had always been my strong suit. Not today.

“Let’s move,” I said, more to myself than to her.

We prepped quickly. I checked the scans again, tracing the position of the tumor with my finger on the image. Deep and tricky but not impossible.

The patient was wheeled in, prepped and draped. I took a deep breath and steadied myself at her side.

“Alright,” I said. “Let’s get started.”

The hum of machines and soft beeps were familiar sounds that usually calmed me but today just reminded me of how little control I had everywhere else.

Taylor handed me the scalpel. I made the incision slowly, carefully. This part was delicate; one wrong move could change everything. It felt like an unfortunate metaphor for everything happening outside of this room.

My hand hesitated for the briefest moment as I navigated through the intricate web of blood vessels surrounding the tumor. My focus was razor sharp, but something felt off. I had a gut feeling about things and I never ignored my gut.

“Suction,” I said quietly.