by Ana Huang
A horrifying tendril of jealousy snaked around my gut and squeezed.
Oh no. Oh no, no, no. I could not be jealous over Josh.
Scratch that. I wasn’t jealous over Josh. I probably ate expired yogurt for breakfast or something. That was the problem with lemon-flavored foods—they tasted tart whether they were supposed to or not.
Clara burst into laughter. “Oh no, I wasn’t his date. Just his coworker. I’m a nurse in the ER.”
“She has a girlfriend.” Josh assembled a hot dog on a plate. “The bartender from The Bronze Gear. Speaking of, where’s Tinsley?”
“She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just dating, and she’s working, so she couldn’t make it.” Clara eyed me with a speculative gleam in her eyes. “If you’re not his date…”
“She’s my fake date,” Josh said before I could answer. “Remember last year’s picnic? I could barely breathe with all the people shoving their daughters in my face. I wanted to avoid a repeat.”
“It must’ve been traumatizing,” Clara said.
I smirked at her dry sarcasm. I liked her already. Any woman who called Josh out earned an A-plus in my book.
“It was. Here.” Josh finished assembling his food and handed it to me before replicating his efforts on a fresh plate.
A hot dog with ketchup, mustard, and relish. A side of salad. A handful of chips and a chocolate chip cookie to top it all off.
“Do you really need two plates?” I gestured at the one in my hand. “That’s excessive, even for you.”
He stared at me like I was dumb. “That plate is for you,” he said. “This is mine.” He added a hamburger and coleslaw to his bounty.
Thank God he didn’t do that for mine. I hated coleslaw. The texture grossed me out.
“Oh.” I shifted my weight and tried to ignore the buzz of warmth beneath my skin. “Thanks.”
Instead of responding, Josh turned his back on me to greet another coworker.
Trust him to do something semi-nice and act like a jerk again immediately after.
I took an annoyed bite out of my hot dog and caught Clara watching us. She turned away when she noticed me staring, but her shoulders shook with what looked suspiciously like laughter.
Since LHAC wasn’t officially part of Thayer Hospital, no one else from the clinic was here, which saved me and Josh from having to explain our fake date to Barbs and company. I also wasn’t worried about my friends finding out. None of them knew anyone who worked at the hospital except Josh.
For the next few hours, I accompanied Josh as we circulated the park and played the dutiful part of his date whenever someone tried to introduce him to their sister, daughter, or granddaughter. He hadn’t been lying when he said everyone wanted to set him up—I counted a dozen matchmaking attempts, even with me by his side, before I gave up.
“I don’t understand the appeal,” I grumbled after a nurse and her daughter walked away, looking disappointed. “You’re not even that great a catch. A trout, at most. Maybe a largemouth bass, emphasis on the largemouth.”
“You liked my mouth just fine in the library.” Josh’s silky response sent flames licking over my skin.
“It was okay.”
I sucked in a gasp when he tugged me to his side, his whisper a dark warning in my ear. “Don’t provoke me, Red, or I’ll spread you out on the picnic table and tongue fuck you until you have to fucking crawl home because your legs don’t work anymore.”
He released me and smiled at the man approaching us. “Hey, Micah,” he said, like he hadn’t just threatened to make me come my brains out in front of a thousand people a mere second ago. “How’s it going?”
After they greeted each other, Josh introduced me to Micah, who offered me a perfunctory smile.
“So, Jules, what do you do? Are you a student?” The other resident was around Josh’s age, but he oozed pretentiousness in a way that was completely at odds with Josh’s easy charm. Josh may be arrogant, but at least he was self-deprecating about it. Micah looked like he believed his own hype a little too much.
“Yes, at Thayer Law. I graduate in a few weeks.”
Micah’s eyebrows popped up. “Law? Really?”
I stiffened at his obvious skepticism.
“Yes, really.” I dropped my polite tone and adopted one so icy I hoped it froze his balls off. Some people might give Micah the benefit of the doubt, but I recognized judgment when I saw it, and I had zero obligation to be nice to someone who didn’t bother hiding his condescension. “Surprised?”
“A little. You don’t look like a law student.” Micah’s eyes dropped to my chest, and tiny prickles of humiliation stabbed at me.
Beside me, Josh stilled, his easygoing manner giving way to a dark, volatile tension that roiled the air around us.
“I didn’t realize law students had a universal look.” I resisted the urge to cross my arms over my chest. I wouldn’t give Micah that satisfaction. “How are they supposed to look?”
He laughed, not even having the decency to look embarrassed by my callout. “You know what I mean.”
“I don’t.” Josh spoke up before I could respond, his tone deceptively light. “What do you mean, Micah?”
Discomfort crossed his coworker’s face for the first time as Micah finally realized the conversation wasn’t heading in the direction he’d intended.
“You know.” He waved a hand in the air, trying to play it off. “It was a joke.”
Josh’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Jokes are supposed to be funny.”
“Lighten up, man.” Micah’s frown of discomfort morphed into annoyance. “Look, all I’m saying is, I was surprised, okay?”
“That’s not what you’re saying. What you’re saying is you made assumptions about her intelligence based on her appearance, which is quite unfair, don’t you think?” A lethal edge ran beneath Josh’s otherwise pleasant voice. “For example, if I were to make an assumption about you, I would think you were a pompous jackass based on the Harvard-branded clothing you wear at any opportunity despite the fact you only got in because your last name is engraved on their newest science building. But I’m sure that’s not true. You did graduate from Harvard Med—near the bottom of the class, but you graduated. That counts for something.”
Micah’s mouth fell open while a ball of emotion curled up in my throat and refused to budge.
I couldn’t think of the last time someone stood up for me. It was a strange feeling—warm and thick, like honey sliding through my veins.
“Regardless, I do not appreciate your rudeness toward my date.” Josh’s voice hardened.
“This is a work event, so apologize, walk away, and we’ll leave it at that. But disrespect Jules again, and I’ll put you in the emergency room myself.”
Micah’s nostrils flared, but he wasn’t dumb enough to argue. Not when Josh looked like he was actively hoping the other man would step out of line so he could deck him.
“I’m sorry.” Micah’s stiff apology contained as much sincerity as a crocodile’s tears. He spun on his heels and stalked away, his reedy body quivering with outrage.
A heavy silence descended in his wake.
Some of the tension drained from Josh’s body, but the line of his jaw remained a hard slash.
I tried and failed to swallow the persistent lump in my throat. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Do what?” He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and took a sip.
“Defend me.”
“I didn’t defend you. I called out an asshole for being an asshole.” He slid a sidelong glance at me. “Besides, I’m the only one who gets to be a jerk to you.”
I huffed out an embarrassingly watery laugh. I was so used to fighting my own battles I wasn’t sure how to handle having someone by my side.
Josh was supposed to be my nemesis, but he turned out to be my ally. In this particular instance, anyway.
“Well, if there’s one thing you excel at, it’s being a jerk.” I rubbed my skirt
between my fingers. The smooth cotton calmed my racing nerves.
“I excel at everything, Red.” Josh’s languid drawl settled over me like a warm blanket.
Our eyes locked and held. An electric charge flared in the air between us and buzzed down my spine.
I’d known Josh for years, but this was the first time I saw him in such bold, painstaking detail.
The sharp curve of his cheekbones tapering down to a strong jaw. The rich, dark eyes like melting chocolate, fringed by lashes so long it should be illegal for men to have them. The arch of his brows and the firm, sensual curve of his lips.
How had I never noticed how incredibly, devastatingly gorgeous Josh Chen was?
I’d known it on an intellectual level, of course, the way I knew the earth was round and the oceans were deep. It was impossible for someone with those features, arranged in that way, to be anything except beautiful.
But this was the first time I’d experienced it. It was like peeling back the transparent sheet cover on a famous art piece and finally seeing it in its full glory.
Josh’s hands curled into loose fists by his side before he unclenched them.
“Last call soon.” The words came out rough and scratchy, like it hurt him to speak. “If you want more food, we should grab it now before the picnic ends.”
The electric charge dissipated, but its effects lingered as a film of tingles on my skin.
“Right. More food.” I cleared my throat. “I’m always down for more food.”
We fixed our plates in silence before settling beneath one of the large oak trees bordering the park. Most of the food had been picked clean, but we’d managed to snag the last of the burgers and a chocolate cupcake to share.
“Your coworkers seem to like you a lot, Micah the Dickhead notwithstanding.” I sliced the cupcake into neat halves with a plastic knife and handed Josh his portion.
He took it, his mouth quirking. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m a likable person, Red.”
“Hmmm.” I snuck a glance at him while we ate. We’d fought, we’d fucked, but there was still so much I didn’t know about him.
How was it possible to know so little about someone after seven years?
“Did you always want to be a doctor? Don’t bother making a joke about playing doctor as a kid,” I added when I noticed the gleam in his eyes. “If I can preempt it before you say it, it’s lame.”
A deep laugh rumbled from Josh’s chest. “Fair enough.” He leaned against the tree trunk and stretched out his legs. A thoughtful expression crossed his face. “I’m not sure when I decided to become a doctor. Part of it was expectations, I guess. Doctor, lawyer, engineer. The stereotypical careers for a Chinese-American kid. But there was another part that…” He hesitated. “This is going to sound cheesy, but I want to help people, you know? I remember waiting in the hospital when Ava almost drowned. It was the first time I realized the people around me wouldn’t live forever. I was fucking terrified. And I kept thinking...what if I’d been with her by the lake that day? Could I have saved her? Would the drowning have even happened? And my mom. What if I’d noticed something was wrong earlier and gotten her help…”
A deep ache spread through me at the tiny crack in his voice.
I placed a tentative hand on his knee, wishing I was better at comforting people. “You were just a kid,” I said gently. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”
“I know.” Josh stared at where my hand rested against the blue denim of his jeans. His throat bobbed with a hard swallow. “But that doesn’t stop me from feeling like it was.”
The ache intensified.
How long had he lived with his guilt and kept it to himself? I doubted he’d told Ava, not when it was guilt over her. Perhaps he’d told Alex when they were friends, but I couldn’t picture stiff, icy Alex being particularly reassuring.
“You’re a good brother, and you’re a good doctor. If you weren’t, I would’ve heard about it. Trust me.” I imbued my smile with mischief. “I’m plugged into all the gossip.”
That earned me a small laugh. “Oh, I know. You and Ava wouldn’t shut up whenever you got into one of your rants.”
My heart jumped into my throat when he covered my hand with his and twined our fingers together. He squeezed, that one action saying more than words ever could.
Three months ago, I would’ve never willingly touched him, and he would’ve never willingly turned to me for comfort.
Yet here we were, existing in the strangest iteration of what our relationship could be. Not quite friends, not quite enemies. Just us.
“And you? Why’d you become a lawyer?” Josh asked.
“I’m not a lawyer yet.” I remained still, afraid any movement would shatter the fragile, therapeutic peace between us. “But, um, Legally Blonde is one of my favorite movies.”
I laughed when his eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “Hear me out, okay? The movie was the jumping-off point. I looked up law schools out of curiosity, and I fell into a rabbit hole. The more I learned about the field, the more I liked the idea of…” I searched for the right word. “Purpose, I guess. Helping people solve their problems. Plus certain types of law pay well.” Warmth suffused my cheeks. “That sounds shallow, but financial security is important to me.”
“That’s not shallow. Money isn’t everything, but we need it to survive. Anyone who says they don’t care about it is lying.”
“I guess.”
We fell into companionable silence again. The golden spring afternoon cast a soft haze over the scene, and I felt like I was living in a dream where the rest of the world didn’t exist. No past, no future, no Max, exams, or money worries.
If only.
“So, what you said earlier.” Josh twisted his head to look at me. “Good brother and doctor, huh?” He removed his hand from mine. I mourned the loss of his touch for a brief moment before he tugged on my braid again, a crooked smile forming on his mouth. “Was that a compliment, Red?”
“My first and last for you, so savor it while you can.”
“Oh, I will. Every morsel.” The velvety suggestion in his voice bypassed my brain and went straight to my core.
“Good,” I managed.
What was happening to me? Maybe someone spiked the food with aphrodisiacs because I shouldn’t be this flustered over Josh.
What started as a fake date was quickly turning into an existential crisis. Hating Josh was one of the core pillars of my lifestyle, along with my love for caramel mochas, my aversion to cardio, and my rainy-day pastime of browsing obscure bookstores. Take my hate for him away, and what was I left with?
My heartbeat quickened. Don’t go there.
Josh’s smile faded, leaving behind an intensity that sent shivers from my head to my toes.
An endless second stretched between us, suspended by the same electric charge from earlier before a shriek of nearby laughter snapped it in half.
Josh and I jerked apart at the same time.
“We should go—”
“I have to leave—”
Our voices tangled in a rush of excuses.
“I have to pack for Eldorra,” I said, even though our flight wasn’t for another five days.
As Bridget’s bridesmaids, Ava, Stella, and I were flying in early for pre-wedding prep, courtesy of Alex’s private jet. Josh wasn’t in the wedding party, but he was joining us because why fly commercial when you could fly private?
“Right. I’m gonna stick around, help clean up.” Josh raked a hand through his hair. “Thanks for coming. We successfully warded off all matchmaking attempts.”
“Thanks for inviting me. Glad I could help.”
An awkward beat passed.
Given our arrangement, we should be heading to his place for sex because that was supposed to be the cornerstone of our relationship, but after our conversation just now, that felt...wrong.
Josh must’ve thought the same, because he didn’t say anything else except, “See you soon, Red.”
“See you.”
I quickened my steps until I reached the park exit, too afraid to look back lest Josh see the confusion scrawled over my face.
He was working all week, so I wouldn’t see him until our Eldorra trip. I could take the time to reset and return to our equilibrium, AKA attracted to but barely tolerating him.
But I had a sinking feeling that whatever knocked our world off its axis had done so irrevocably. Not in one afternoon, but in all the moments that led up to it—our truce at the clinic, our ski lessons, our night in Vermont, our sex-only pact. Hyacinth and the library and the hundreds of small moments in which I thought about Josh and didn’t experience the same visceral irritation I used to when he crossed my mind.
Disrespect Jules again, and I’ll put you in the emergency room myself.
That’s not shallow.
Was that a compliment, Red?
I didn’t know what to make of my strange new feelings toward Josh, but I knew one thing: there was no going back to whatever we used to be.
28
JOSH
In hindsight, taking Jules to the picnic was the worst idea I’d ever had. The short-term gain of outsmarting the hospital’s matchmakers wasn’t worth the long-term pain of replaying the afternoon over and over in my head like a broken record I couldn’t bear to toss.
You were just a kid. What happened wasn’t your fault.
You’re a good brother, and you’re a good doctor.
Every time I thought about our conversation beneath the tree, I wanted to rewind and freeze time so we could stay in that moment forever.
Sun shining, food in our laps, the emptiness in my chest a little less empty with Jules’s presence filling it up.
It was unacceptable.
Wanting to fuck her was fine. Wanting to call her when I had a crappy day was not.
It didn’t matter if she was the only person I could talk to without fearing judgment. There would be no more quasi-dates from now on, not even fake ones. And definitely no more sleepovers or letting her borrow my shirt.
I still hadn’t washed the one I’d lent her after Hyacinth. I’d get around to it eventually, but it didn’t smell bad. It smelled faintly like her—warm and cinnamony with a hint of amber.