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“When are you coming back to Houston?”
“We’ll see. It’s wedding season. It’s a busy season.”
“Kind of like motorcycle weekend here?”
“Huh?”
The ER gets flooded on motorcycle weekends, but… “Yeah, just… You’re not going to give up, are you? This is…”
“No. I’m just allowing myself an hour to feel sad. Then in the infamous words of Taylor Swift, I’ll shake it off.”
“I think it would be okay to be sad for more than an hour.”
“Nope.” Her tone is bright and perky. “One hour. That’s it.”
ChapterTwenty-One
Ian
Last September
The familiar symptoms of exhaustion envelop me as I open my refrigerator door.
“Did you eat?” I call out to Sunny.
It’s been almost two months since she came to visit. Two months of infrequent texts and touching base. Two months of wedding season and completing applications for spinal fellowships and surgeries. Although it occurred to me we both might have been finding excuses. Harrison is actually the one who pointed it out. Or what he really said was something along the lines of, “If you want to spend time with someone, you find the time.”
Harrison’s insightful statement simply underscored the point that Sunny and I aren’t in a relationship. We’re friends, and the benefits component is strictly to serve a purpose. A purpose I suspect she’s been scared to pursue after…well, the error. She was pregnant for all of twenty-four hours, so I hesitate to call it miscarriage. Although, if you believe the accuracy of the tests, that’s what it was.
“I’ve eaten.” Sunny enters the kitchen and grips the top of the refrigerator door, widening the gap so she can see in. “But I packed some food for you.”
A few of the takeout containers I stacked on shelves are missing, and in their place are sealed plastic containers of food.
“Some things are in the freezer. But I know how much you like your mom’s chicken and rice soup, so I made you a batch. And also, there’s barbecue from Willy’s. Oh, and I made some of the cucumber and tomato salad you like. It’s all fresh from the garden. This year, I managed to keep the bugs out of the tomatoes.”
Without thinking, I weave my fingers through her wet hair until the back of her head fits snugly in my palm and pull her to me, kissing her soundly on the lips. Her eyes widen and she doesn’t push me away, but she doesn’t open for me either.
Probably shouldn’t have done that. Great. This isn’t awkward at all.
I bend down and feign fascination with the contents of my fridge.
“There are two frozen casseroles in your freezer, but they’ll take too long to thaw. Plus, there’s a frozen chocolate cake.”
“You froze a cake?”
“Well, I made it Monday, you know, my day off, and I wanted it to stay fresh. I was worried about how it would do in the cooler, but it did fine.”
“Which one is the chicken and rice?”
Her hip bumps me on the side, and her arm curls around my back. Her touch sends tingles coursing along my spine. Her touch is over my shirt, but I want those fingers on my skin. The semi-wood I was sporting hardens. I call on all my self-control to refrain from grabbing her and sliding my hand down those loose pajama bottoms to squeeze her fine, delectable ass.
I back up to the kitchen counter, giving us both space. She scoops out congealed soup into a bowl and places it in the microwave.
This evening at the hospital, I focused on the unexpected surgery. Sunny waited for me back here, at my apartment, while I spent extra time with the parents post-surgery, going over expected recovery times and the physical therapy their son would need and explaining that no, he probably wouldn’t be able to play football for the rest of this season. And I drew upon all my patience when the father argued that it was his son’s junior year of high school and really important he play. Obviously, none of those factors changed the medical diagnosis. The kid went over the handlebars mountain bike riding. Broke his collarbone and suffered a radius compound fracture. He could get a second opinion, but no doctor would recommend he get tackled for sport.
The moment I broke away, I prepared myself for Sunny, waiting back at my apartment. The second I saw her, I felt at peace. Like I’d been on a tight cord for months and hadn’t realized it, and having her in my home set everything to rights. And I wanted her. A visceral need coursed through me like I’ve never felt before. There’s fantasizing, and then there’s need. And watching her move around my narrow kitchen stirs an unfamiliar level of warmth and desire.
Harrison has been after me to join him at his ridiculously expensive club. I’ve met him for drinks there more than once. But…I haven’t done anything. I’ve blamed it on not wanting to bring any risk to Sunny, but as the weeks ticked by, I began to wonder if she’d ever come visit again.
