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What if she’s blowing someone else at this exact moment?
What if I never know who she ran out to meet tonight?
“You’re so fucked?” I whisper as I pace the hallway in my apartment. “So fucked, Gaines. You can’t do this.”
I can’t fall for a woman.
I can’t want a woman to this degree.
A knock at my apartment door sends me in that direction in record time.
It’s not until I’m opening the door that I realize Eloise has no fucking clue where I live.
Berk does, though, and it’s him standing there.
“You forgot this.” He shoves a pink envelope at me. “That’s the thank you card Stevie wrote in front of you for the flowers you gave her last week.”
A light blue envelope appears from behind his back. “This is a new one. She wrote this after you left to thank you for the buttercups you brought her tonight.”
I take both and step aside to let him in. “Tell her thanks.”
“You could write a card and thank her yourself,” he jokes. “Sure, I’d love a beer.”
I laugh. “Who the fuck offered you a beer?”
“You were about to.” He pats my shoulder. “You’re not expecting anyone, are you?”
I scratch my head. “No.”
“I know you need to sleep.” He takes off toward my kitchen. “Doctors always need more sleep, so I won’t stay long.”
Since I could use the distraction, I shake my head. “You can stick around for awhile.”
He appears again with two open bottles in his hand. He hands me the water, keeping the beer for himself. “I noticed you didn’t have any wine at dinner, so I assume you’re on call.”
I’m not, which is why I pounded back the whiskey at the bar less than an hour ago. “Thanks.”
“I wanted to check in.” He makes himself comfortable in one of the gray armchairs in my living room. “I know that question about why you became a doctor isn’t as cut and dry as everyone thinks it is.”
I don’t want to wander down memory lane tonight, so I shut him down. “I think Stevie got what she needed for the assignment.”
He takes the hint. “She did.”
We sit in silence as he takes a pull from the bottle.
“Anything new going on with you?” He glances around my apartment, which hasn’t changed in years.
I don’t spend enough time here to have plants or a pet. My fridge has the bare minimum in it and I’d be right in assuming that every box of crackers or cereal in my cupboard has surpassed its best by date by months, if not years.
I live at the hospital and vacation at my office because my work there is a dream compared to the shit I see in the ED and the cardiac care unit.
That’s my life. It will always be my life.
“You know that drill.” I chuckle. “Work, sleep, repeat.”
He takes another sip of beer. “How long do you think you can sustain that?”
I arch a brow. “Forever?”
