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Gavin lifts his chin toward me. “How did you two meet?”
“We live across the hall from each other,” Faith handles the question, answering it with ease. “One of Dr. Hawthorne’s friends is a professor of mine.”
Gavin contemplates that with a narrowing of his eyes. “Let me guess. The professor is Erin Stein.”
Faith’s hand leaps to cover his forearm. The material of his lab coat separates their skin but still…it’s sending my pulse in the wrong direction.
I lean back in the uncomfortable plastic chair I’m sitting in and cross my arms. I’m not a jealous guy, yet here I am, wishing she were as enthralled with me in this moment as she is with him.
“It is Professor Stein.” Faith’s gaze volleys from Gavin’s face to mine. “You wouldn’t happen to know Dr. Sadie Reynolds too, would you?”
It’s fucking adorable that she thinks every medical professional in a city as vast as New York knows each other.
I look to Gavin to let her down easy, but his eyes are glued to her.
“I do,” he says with a million dollar smile. “I met Sadie years ago. She’s one of the best.”
That’s another point for the guy I challenged at every turn in college. Gavin and I met during freshmen year. Although work has kept our contact to a minimum the past few years, we’ve always kept in touch.
“She really is,” Faith agrees with a bob of her head. “Maybe one day, I’ll end up working here with you.”
Gavin cocks one dark brow. “You never know what life has in store for you.”
I catch his eye again and send him a look that I hope to hell screams, back the hell off.
He pushes back from the table, even though his coffee cup is still half full. “I need to get back. It was good to meet you, Faith. Matthew, a word.”
Matthew, a word?
What the fuck is that?
I slide to my feet, offering a soft brush of my hand over Faith’s shoulder. “Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”
She glances up at me. “Will do.”
I follow Gavin out of the crowded cafeteria to a corridor that is teeming with people. He ignores them all to turn his attention squarely on me. “What’s going on?”
I pat his jaw. “You need a shave.”
He pats my cheek but harder. “I see you’re still helping out anyone and everyone.”
I’m no martyr, but if someone needs a helping hand, I’ve got two.
I don’t steer him away from his assumption that I’m acting as a guidance counselor of sorts to Faith. I want to guide her, but that’s down to her knees before I feed my cock to her.
I’ll let Gavin believe I’m only invested in her career because anything else is none of his fucking business.
“I do what I can.” I wink. “Thanks for making time to talk to her.”
He glances back in the direction of the cafeteria, but there’s a wall separating us from Faith now. “She’s got the drive. I hope she understands how much sacrifice it takes to land a job as shitty as this.”
“Good of you to hold that in until now, Gav.” I laugh. “I think she has a clear idea of what’s ahead of her.”
He pats my shoulder. “How’s the family?”
“They’re great,” I offer. “Bianca’s feeling good. Roman’s anxious to meet his son. Callum is work-obsessed as usual, and…”
“Delia,” he interrupts. “I saw her the other day as I was getting on the subway. She grew up.”
I laugh. “It’s been how long since you’ve seen her?”
“Years.” He glances at his watch.
“Did you talk to her?”
“I was already on the train when I saw her on the platform.” He scrubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Maybe fate will step in and put us in the same place at the same time again.”
“Maybe,” I say absentmindedly because I want to get back to Faith. “Thanks again for meeting with us.”
“Anytime.” He gestures behind me. “I need to run. Take care of yourself.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Faith
Having that time with Dr. Fuller was a gift, and I told Matthew that as we were leaving the hospital.
After he came back from talking to Gavin, he asked if I wanted to eat dinner in the hospital cafeteria. I declined. I need to get home to study, and besides, I’m still planning on making pancakes.
“What’s on the agenda for the rest of the night?” Matthew asks as we exit the elevator on our floor.
“Take a guess,” I answer playfully.
“What do I win if I guess correctly?”
The question sparks something inside of me. Is he flirting, or am I so infatuated with him that I’m reading something into nothing?
I glance at him. “What do you want to win?”
He jingles his keys in his hand. “We’re playing that game, are we?”
I jingle mine too. “What game?”
He rakes me from head to toe. “You’re trying to gauge how confident I am in my guess. I know with one hundred percent certainty that you’re going to study until the clock strikes midnight or beyond.”
