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"Well, thanks for bringing them by,” I replied, holding her gaze with a raised eyebrow wondering when she’d break away. She didn’t. “Speaking of, what are you doing still hanging around if you’re off duty? You just had to see me one more time before leaving for the night, huh?"

Gemma rolled her eyes. "A decision I'm starting to regret."

“Now, now. That's cold, baby," I tossed back, grinning wider. "In all seriousness though, I appreciate you taking such good care of me."

Gemma nodded, and I waited, expecting her to call our time to a close. "Actually, there was something I wanted to tell you.”

“Shoot.”

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for before."

My eyebrows raised, not understanding what she was talking about. I’d only seen her once that morning when we’d shared the coffee. After that, the other nurses had been the ones to check in on me.

"For what I said about you flying again. I shouldn't have pushed you so hard.” She dropped her eyes to stare at her hands, twisting a silver ring on her middle finger. “Everyone processes traumatic events at their own pace and it's not my place to force my opinions on you like some kind of therapist. I was out of line and I want you to know I'm sorry. You've gone through something I can't even imagine and instead of letting you work through it, I tried to shove you ahead.”

Her words left me dumbfounded. I was so used to people subjecting their opinions on me—and immediately disregarding them—that what Gemma had said hadn’t even phased me. It had obviously weighed on her a lot heavier than it had on me.

I shrugged. "Don't worry about it. You were just trying to help."

"Thank you."

"And, hey, for what it's worth, I hope you're right. Flying is my life. It’s like therapy, and I'm not sure what I’d do without it. Before the crash, giving up flying wasn’t something I would've even considered. I always imagined I'd be this kick-ass, ninety-nine-year-old clinging to my pilot's license with everything I had," I said, smiling up at her.

Gemma's eyes sparkled as she laughed at my colorful depiction, the gray lifting like fog. "Well I hope you will. I’d like to learn to fly and it seems you’d be a hell of a teacher."

I gave a hollow laugh.

“Like I was telling you this morning, I used to be a nurse with the Army. I did a lot of in-flight stuff, and sometimes, I wondered if I’d missed my real calling. There was something about being a pilot that…I don’t know…it kinda spoke to me.”

“Not enough excitement in the back, huh?” I’d never personally flown a medical chopper, but I’d heard enough horror stories from a few guys who had to know I hadn’t missed out on anything I wanted to be a part of.

Between going into the worst of the worst to retrieve injured soldiers, there was also a heightened amount of stress to not only get out safely—but do it as fast as humanly possible or else you’d be flying a hearse instead of an ambulance.

There was pressure, and then there was insanity.

I’d never been much for choppers anyway. Jets were my passion. Old, new, rusty, whatever. I loved them all the same.

“Plenty of excitement. Sometimes—most of the time—more than I really wanted. But I loved it. I was never the type of girl to sit behind a desk.”

“I can see that,” I said, letting my eyes wander toward the hospital corridor outside my room. “Why haven’t you taken lessons? If you’re seriously interested?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t had the time. I got out of the Army, took a position as a triage nurse in Chicago, and after a year of that, got the offer to come out here.”

“Got it.” I nodded, processing what I’d learned about Gemma so far. She had so many layers it was hard to know where I wanted to start unwrapping. She was a beautiful woman, no doubt about it, but there was something else that had me hooked. A depth and history that intrigued me. "So, I know you worked your ass off with the Army, you’re a crackerjack doctor, and you obviously put in your time in the gym," I paused, a flicker of amusement at her subtle blush. "But what else? What else does Dr. Gemma like to do?"

"Well technically, I'm not a doctor, but that aside, I’m not sure yet."

"You're not sure you know what you like to do?" I raised an eyebrow at her.

"No, no. Not necessarily. I just mean that I'm new in town and I'm still figuring out my routine. I just moved here from Chicago about a month ago so I don't really know anybody. I haven’t even finished unpacking. All the stuff from my apartment in Chicago is still boxed up, and I kinda open boxes as I need stuff. It’s a little pathetic.”

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