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“My dad, in his wisdom, decided to set me up on a bit of informal work experience at his hospital, in the break before I started college. Some of it was okay. Mainly I was passed around by a few doctors who all seemed too exhausted to say no to him. But one afternoon he slaps me on the back, introduces one of the coroners, and leaves us to it.”
I am starting to feel terrible. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s hard.”
“No, it’s okay. I guess it was the ultimate baptism of fire. I made it through about five minutes before I threw up. The smell of dead person, and chemicals, it left a taste in my mouth. Probably why I started eating all these mints. Sometimes I can’t get the smell out of my nose and it’s been years.”
He lifts my arm and presses my wrist to his nose.
“Your skin smells like candy. Up until that point, it was a given I’d study medicine. My great-great-grandfather was a doctor and it’s always been the Templeman chosen vocation. But after seeing someone’s rib cage get jacked open, it was the beginning of the end.”
“You managed to stay for the rest of the autopsy?”
“I managed to stay for another year. And then I quit.” He looks distressed by the memory and defaults to defensiveness. “So you came over to grill me on my life choices?”
I catch his fingertips and hold his hand between mine.
“I didn’t want to be anywhere else tonight. I was crawling out of my skin.”
I’m proud I had the courage to say it.
He turns back to me and the expression in his eyes is softer.
“My leg was jiggling like this.” I demonstrate and he grins. “You should have seen me driving here. I was laughing like I’d broken out of prison. I was completely deranged.”
“Do you think you’ve finally cracked your sanity?”
“For sure. The weird need to stare at your pretty face completely overwhelmed me. I had the energy of twenty atom bombs.”
“Why do you think I go to the gym so much?”
A big bubble of happiness fills me. I struggle upright and lean against him, my head falling easily into the perfect cradle of his neck. It’s true; he fits me everywhere.
“You never have to
explain your choices. Not to me, not to anyone.”
He nods slowly, and I cover him in the blanket too.
I could never have imagined one day I’d be sitting on a couch, my mouth tasting like vanilla, with my head on Joshua Templeman’s shoulder. It’s going to end in disaster. I close my eyes and breathe.
“I want to know why you were so sad today, Shortcake.” It’s uncanny how he senses shifts in my mood.
“I just was. I was thinking about everything at stake for me.”
“Tell me.”
“I can’t. You’re my nemesis.”
“You’re awfully snuggly with your nemesis.” It’s true. I’m snuggling.
“I don’t want to talk about me. We never talk about you. I probably don’t know anything about you.”
He laces his fingers into mine and rests our hands on his stomach. I move my fingertips in tiny circles and he sighs indulgently.
“Sure you do. Go on, list everything.”
“I know surface things. The color of your shirts. Your lovely blue eyes. You live on mints and make me look like a pig in comparison. You scare three-quarters of B and G employees absolutely senseless, but only because the other quarter haven’t met you yet.”
He smirks. “Such a bunch of delicate sissies.”
