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With a shake of my head, I decline. “I need to get back to school.”
“Right.” He tilts his chin, the bright overhead lights catching on the faint covering of stubble dotting his chin. “I wanted to ask you something, but fair warning, it’s lame and you don’t have to answer.”
“Ask,” I suggest. “I promise to answer regardless of how lame it is.”
That draws a hearty laugh from him. He winces slightly.
I glance over my shoulder while taking a step closer to him. “Are you all right? Should I get a nurse?”
“I’m good,” he reassures me. “It hurts a bit to move.”
“I bet,” I say, even though I have no clue exactly what procedure he had done.
“Do you think Pen likes me enough to go out with me again?”
The question tugs at my heart in a way I wouldn’t have expected. I can’t stop the small smile that slides over my lips. “I know she does.”
“Truly?” he asks. “Do you think I should do it once I’m back on my feet?”
“Absolutely.” I nod, stressing the point. “I can practically guarantee that if you ask Penny out again, she’ll say yes.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Gaines
“I thoughtyou ran off and moved to some tropical island.” Evan’s hand meets the middle of my back as he steps in place beside me. “But here you are without a tan and with that same ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ look on your face.”
I glance at him. “What?”
He huffs out a laugh. “It’s been what, two or three weeks now since I’ve seen your handsome mug around here.”
Shaking my head, I shrug. “I’ve passed you in the hall at least twice this week.You’ve had your eyes pinned to your phone. I’m not the bastard ignoring you.”
“Are you saying I’m a bastard?” The smile on his face gives away the intention of the question. I admire him and consider him a friend. I know that feeling is mutual.
“I am.” I nod, shooting him a grin. “I’ve been around, Dr. Scott. You haven’t taken time to notice me.”
He pats my back again. “I guess we’ve both been busy.”
That’s an understatement.
I’ve been buried under work for days, hell, it feels like weeks, but I know it’s not.
I’ve been faced with a host of appointments, and consultations over the past week and a half culminating in the heart attack I just attended to down the hall in the ED.
“How did that kid make out?” he questions, genuine concern in his expression. “The one you found on the floor in Atlas 22 a couple of weeks back.”
I glance at him again because that’s typical Evan. He remembers people and the challenges they face. He’s been known to stop by the rooms of the patients of his colleagues to check in on them. The man can be an ass, but he has a heart of gold.
“I discharged him early last week,” I say. “I reached out twice via phone. So far, so good. I’ll see him again tomorrow for a follow-up.”
“His little sister is a hoot.” Evan laughs. “I met her in the cafeteria after her brother’s procedure. She was there with her mom having a donut.”
Without a word, I hold out my hand for him to shake.
He goes for it and as we both raise our hands to complete the Saylor Robinson signature handshake, we laugh.
“You need to have kids.” He glances to his left to where another vascular surgeon seems to be waiting for him at the end of the corridor we’re standing in. “You’d make a great dad.”
