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“The kiss doesn’t even matter. What’s relevant was the aftermath. Frankie and I saw how you both reacted. Rowan turned red as one of those Spanish poppies Mama used to grow, and you looked like you could’ve bitten through a brick. It was gloriously awkward. If it were ‘nothing,’ you’d have both laughed it off.”
They were next up in line. Harry took out his wallet, flipped through a few bills, snapped it shut again, and repeated the action three more times. Arden’s scrutiny twisted into the side of his face like a corkscrew. He looked down at his feet.
“I like her,” Arden said.
Harry caught her shrug from the corner of his eye. She pretended to study the chalkboard menu in front of the food truck, but the only thing written on it wasBURGERS: YOU KNOW WHY YOU’RE HERE.
“Really?” he said.
“Why do you sound surprised?” she said. “She’s awesome.”
It was their turn to order, so Harry didn’t have time to respond. The pasty kid working the window looked like a teenageversion of Ichabod Crane. He responded with a big-eyed stare and a squeaky “You sure, mister?” when Harry ordered a burger with every condiment and topping they had available. It was an unfortunate combination of things like over-easy eggs and mango chutney, peanut butter and avocado, plus all the traditional stuff like lettuce, tomatoes, pickles—but he was determined to keep his promise to Arden. He was going to eat the damn thing without a single utensil. Grimacing, Arden gave him a thumbs-up, and ordered a burger for herself with only green toppings: lettuce, pickles, and fresh sliced jalapeño.
They found a picnic table near the bonfire, and put their order number on a clip sticking out of the top of an empty wine bottle. Arden balanced her chin in her hand and gave Harry a sideways look. “I’m not letting you off the hook about Rowan. Why would you be surprised I like her?”
Harry took a long drink of beer. “You never liked Nicola.”
Arden opened her mouth and closed it quickly, then put her palms flat on the table and leaned forward. “Nicola sucked, Harry.”
Harry laughed. “That’s not very feminist of you.”
“Being a feminist doesn’t mean I have to like someone by default just because they’re a woman.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Arden’s dark brows climbed comically high. “Really, bud? You’d have wanted your teen sister’s hot takes on your love life?”
Harry’s relationship with Nicola Baldwin began when they were both fresh-faced residents. The attraction had been immediate, and they worked well together, professionally. Even so, Harry had known from the jump that anything and everyone would always come second to medicine for her, and at the time, he’d expected medicine would eventually become like that for him, too—so it would be okay.
It never did, and it never felt okay.
They only visited his family once a year, and Nicola never figured out how to authentically engage with anyone. One visit, she’d called Arden “Adrienne” for an entire afternoon. Ma and Dad were gracious and kind to her, but they’d always seemed a little nervous, as though interacting with her was a perpetual audition. The only one of his brothers Nicola managed to have a lengthy conversation with was Patrick, and that had only been because Patrick was a pharmacist and could speak the same medical language she did. Duncan had only ever liked her because she’d also refused to eat Ma’s chocolate coconut cookies.
Nicola wasn’t a bad person. But she’d never beenHarry’sperson. She was too sterile, too detached. He’d realized far too late he’d been in love with theideaof her.
“I ever tell you how she ended it?” Harry said.
“Let me guess. Over the phone. No, wait. She did it in a text, didn’t she?”
“Worse. Email.”
“No shit.” Arden slapped her hands down.
Harry smirked. “I swear. One paragraph. Then she signed it, ‘Regards.’”
They laughed, then Arden’s expression grew sensitive and serious, and she reached across the table to touch his arm. “It’s strange she’s a cardiologist, as clueless as she is about the human heart.”
Harry put his hand over hers. “It’s okay. Really. She’d been sleeping at the hospital most nights for the last year. It’s been a long time since it was real.” Harry thought about his conversation with Rowan earlier.“Infatuation fades fast once people truly learn each other.”“It might not have ever been.”
Arden sat back and traced her fingers over where someone had carved their initials into the picnic table. “Honestly, I knew she wasn’t right for you when she refused to play Team Tag that July Fourth at Nate and Maren’s.”
“Ah, to be fair, Nicola’s life is medicine. Asking a cardiologist to risk a broken finger or wrist in a game with a bunch of people she barely knows is—a lot. You know how this family plays. I almost broke my nose in Team Tag the night I came home.”
Arden sat back and groaned. “Hate that I missed it. Duncan told me we finally lost.”
“Yep, the Bradys’ brief winning streak has ended.”
“I heard we have Rowan to thank?”
