by J. Saman
“Thirty-eight.”
His eyes bulge for a moment until he realizes I’m joking and then he reaches out and tickles my side. I’m not particularly ticklish, but he hit a sensitive spot and I jump with a yelp and a giggle.
It’s the first time he’s actually touched me, touched me. In an intimate way. More than just on my arm or any other area considered socially neutral. The near miss doesn’t count. That was driven by instinct. So maybe I was right about the whole hands-in-the-pockets thing?
God, I hope so.
“I’m kidding,” I laugh, swatting back at his hand that’s trying to get at me again. “I bet you’re thirty.”
“Twenty-nine. I won’t be the big three-o until October thirty-first.”
“You’re a Halloween baby?” My eyes widen as does my smile. For some reason, I like that. It makes no sense other than it’s a holiday, but it seems to humanize him a bit. Lightens him up. “That must have always been a lot of fun.”
He shrugs as we start to walk again. I realize time is ticking by and he’s got to get back to the hospital so I quicken my pace, my building only another block up. “I guess. I never really celebrated my birthday much, growing up, so it never felt like the big deal everyone else thinks it is.”
I want to ask him why that was. Why he never celebrated his birthday much growing up. But it feels too personal. Maybe it was his expression when he said it. Or maybe it was the way his tone shut down. I don’t know. But there is something about him which seems…dark. Sad. Lost.
“How old are you, since we’re sharing ages.”
“I’m twenty-seven.” I glance up at him. “October baby as well, but my birthday is a few weeks before yours.”
“Are you seeing anyone, Gia?” He asks so suddenly that I pause for a beat, only to start walking again as my mind begins to race. It’s the first time he’s said my name. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if he remembered it or not. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he didn’t. After all, I only met him that one day. But he did and that fills me with so many butterflies I could take off flying around the city.
But my answer grounds me in a matter of seconds. “Sort of,” I say, and hate that answer. It’s true, but right now, I think I’m wishing my response was no. “This is my building,” I tell him and I step off to the side of the glass front doors.
“Sort of?” he questions, his eyes bouncing back and forth between mine and the front of my building, taking it in while trying to observe my reaction.
“Yes. I’ve been dating someone for a few weeks, but we’re not exclusive and we’re definitely not serious.” And normally, I wouldn’t bother to mention that, but he asked directly and I don’t want to lie to him. I’ve been seeing Colin pretty consistently, but it’s not quite a relationship and not quite casual dating. It’s at the in-between stage.
He nods his head, his posture turning strained and uncomfortable. His eyes flash away, back out into the street before his gaze turns back to me. I know he’s about to say goodbye and I’ll probably go another year without seeing him. The thought of that makes my stomach drop.
But I can’t think of anything to say to him to make it better. To make him stay or ask me out.
“I should get going,” he says. “I have to be on soon.” He steps into me, towering over me and making me crane my neck so I can see him better.
Shit. I blew it. A guy hasn’t made me feel like this in a very long time. I want more of that. More of him.
“If I had the time, I’d walk you up,” he says and I can’t stop my smile. “But it’s probably better that I don’t.” That smile that was just lighting up my face falls. That sentence just exterminated all the life from it. His blue eyes bounce around my face for a moment, like they’re caught in indecision. “See you around, Gia.”
Then he turns and briskly walks off, leaving me standing here on my doorstep stunned. He didn’t even give me a chance to say thanks for saving my life or even for walking me home. Or that I’d rather be sort of dating him than Colin. Or that I’m so glad I ran into him again because it’s like I got the silent wish I made that awful day outside that emergency department.
“Way to go, Gia,” I mutter to myself as I unlock the front door of my building, and step inside.
Chapter 2
Gia
Pulling the door open to the yoga studio, I let Chloe go in first. But only because she needs the prompting. “Explain to me why I need to get out of bed on a Sunday morning to stretch and breathe?”
“It’s good for you.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “But why do we have to do hot yoga? It’s freaking ninety degrees and humid outside already and you’re taking me into a room that is freaking 104 degrees and humid?”
I shrug, walking us into the back room and pushing her a little as we go. I get her point. It is hot as hell outside. Bikram yoga isn’t my favorite either, but it’s the only class they had available at this time on a Sunday. But now that I’m entering the room, I’m sort of regretting this.
“Oh, hell no,” Chloe says, wrapping her arms around her waist and turning on me. “It’s not even up to temperature yet and I’m already sweating. We’re just standing here, Gia, and I’m sweating. It’s freaking gross. I’m going to turn into a raisin and when I’m good and dehydrated, instead of getting breakfast and coffee, you’ll need to start an IV.”
I laugh, nudging past her and spreading my mat out on the floor. But to be honest, I don’t really want to do this either. It is gross in here. “Come on, Chlo. Just stretch out with me. If you want to leave after that, we can.”
Chloe growls something under her breath which sounds like a slew of curse words and then she’s joining me on the floor. “Five minutes, Gia Bianchi. I’m giving you five minutes.”
“Fine. Five minutes.” Sitting on my mat, I stretch my legs out straight in front of me and then lower my body, wrapping my hands around feet and bring chin to my knees. “Did I tell you that I was almost killed on Friday night?”
“No. You forgot to mention that when you woke me up this morning and yanked me out of bed,” she deadpans. “Were you mugged at gunpoint? Forced into an underground world of sex slavery? I know it’s wrong, but that shit sort of turns me on. I mean, not in real life, obviously. That would be terrifying and fucked up. But in a book I read recently, it totally sounded hot.”
Twisting my head, I look over at her with furrowed eyebrows. She’s sitting on her mat and picking at her nail polish. “I don’t have words for you Chloe Daniels.” She shrugs and I sit up, watching the instructor talk to a few girls at the front of the room. “I was nearly hit by a car. There were no guns or people forcing me into a life of sexual servitude.”
“For real?”
She looks a little startled as I move into a downward-facing dog. “Yeah, it was close. Like really freaking close.”
“Damn. What happened? But before you answer that, you need to get a new sports bra, because the one you’re wearing clearly isn’t doing the job. You’re about to suffocate in your cleavage.”
I snicker.
“Shhhh,” someone snaps at us from behind.
“Oh come on,” Chloe says in an exasperated cadence. “The class hasn’t even started yet.”
“I’m trying to find my center and I can’t do that with you two talking like that,” the girl snaps, and now I’m trying really hard to stifle my laughter.
“Aaaand, I’m done here.” Chloe stands up, popping a hip and waiting on me to right my body and join her. I do, because even from my upside-down position, I can see this girl means business and clearly, Chloe and I don’t. I have no idea what a center is, let alone how to find it.
“Okay, let’s go.” I’m trying to appear putout, but I doubt I accomplish it.
Less than five minutes later, we’re stepping back out into the hot Sunday morning.
“Good workout,” I say, dropping my shades over my eyes. “I think we deserve a breakfast sandwi
ch and a coffee.”
“Now you’re speaking my language.” Chloe points across the street at the coffee place we like to go to. It’s annoyingly close to the hospital, but the food and coffee are good so we ignore that small fact. “Tell me what happened with the car.”
“Actually, I’m blaming you.”
“Me?” she squeals.
“Yeah. You. Because you sent me that picture of Dr. Fernandez with that nurse and I was looking at it when I twisted my ankle on the sidewalk.”
“I’m not taking the blame for your klutziness. This is not a new phenomenon. You topple over all the time. Especially in those fucking clogs you’re so fond of wearing.”
“Fine,” I concede. “I’ll give you the falling-a-lot-in-my-clogs thing. But, I was falling into the street this time and a car was literally bearing down on me.”
“Ha,” she laughs, opening the door to our coffee shop and walking inside. “Is that midwife humor? Bearing down?” I roll my eyes. “God, I love that smell.” She breathes in a deep breath. “So you were falling in the street and a car was bearing down on you and then what happened? Obviously, you didn’t die as you’re standing next to me.”
“Obviously,” I say dryly. “But honestly, I don’t think that would be the situation if I hadn’t been pulled back at the last minute.”
“Whoa.” She stops, spinning around on me. “You’re serious? You actually almost died?” I nod. “I thought you were just being dramatic.”
“No. It was really close.”
“Damn. Sorry, I was being a sarcastic bitch.” Chloe gives me a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay. Who saved you?”
“I’ll have a large coffee and an egg and cheese on a bagel, please.”
“Same for me, please,” Chloe says and then she waits on me to answer. I was stalling. I won’t even lie and say I wasn’t. I don’t know what to say about Dr. Banner. Not just to her, but to myself. I spent a lot of time thinking about him after he left me on my doorstep. Wondering if I misinterpreted the signs I thought I was reading clearly.
I came up empty.
I have no idea who Finn Banner is or what he’s really like.
I only know how he makes me feel.
I can’t even claim temporary insanity or PTSD following the near miss, because I felt all of that the first time I met him. Only now it’s stronger. I wouldn’t call it a crush yet, but we’re certainly creeping up on that territory.
But I have no intention of telling Chloe that. Her big mouth will not be able to hold back.
“An ED doc.”
“Was he cute?” she asks absentmindedly as we accept our coffees and go over to add cream and sweetener.
“Who said he was a he? Women can be doctors too.”
Chloe gives me a look and I wish I had kept my mouth shut. “He was cute. Wasn’t he?”
“Stop,” I laugh, doing my best to play it off as I over-stir the cream into my coffee.
“Gia, you’re a shit liar and you might in fact be blushing, so I’m going with gorgeous.” I am blushing. I can feel it. I’ve never blushed so much in my life since I met this man.
And here’s the thing about Dr. Banner. He was my father’s doctor. So if by some miracle, he does ever ask me out and Chloe finds out he was not only the doctor who saved me, but also my father’s doctor, she’ll know I held out on her and get pissed. Women react like that. Chloe reacts like that.
“He was my dad’s doctor, Chlo,” I say and then leave her to digest that for a moment as I snag our sandwiches off the counter and find us a table.
“Explain,” she says with a somber expression.
Taking a bite of my food, I chew slowly as I ruminate on how I want to tell her. Swallowing, I take a sip of my coffee and then shift in my seat so I’m facing her better. “The day my dad had his MI?” She nods. “The doctor who saved me last night was his admitting doctor.”
Her eyes bulge. “Holy meatballs and spaghetti. That’s just…wow. That must have been rough.”
I shrug, because it actually wasn’t. That was the weird part. You’d think the sight of Dr. Banner would make me sad or angry or something. You’d think he’d be the last person I’d want to see. But he wasn’t. In fact, I don’t think I thought about my father once the entire time I was with him.
“So what? He just saved your life and the two of said holy shit this is a crazy coincidence and that was it?”
Another shrug. “Sort of.”
“But you think he’s hot.” She says this like it’s a statement. Like she knows it for a fact and that’s one of the annoying things about trying to hide something from your best friend. It never works. They know everything anyway. “You should totally find him. Seek his gorgeous ass out and offer him something like a date or a blowjob as a thank you. Something memorable.”
“Right,” I deadpan with an eye roll so she believes I’m all attitude and not the least bit interested in doing either of those things with him. “I’ll get right on that.”
Chapter 3
Finn
It’s been nearly two days since I saw Gia, but I still can’t get that image of her falling toward that car out of my mind. I can’t get her out of my mind. I walked her home and the entire walk back to the hospital, from her apartment, all I could think was stupid. Stupid for walking her home. Stupid for tickling her side. Stupid for asking her if she was seeing anyone. That last one most of all because the moment I asked it, I saw the look in her eyes.
That beautiful hopeful smile.
And when she said she was sort of seeing someone–but it wasn’t exclusive or serious–I saw the window she was trying to leave open. I hated that I had to shut it all down. Hated the way her smile faded into a frown because I couldn’t keep my fucking mouth shut in the first place. Yet at the same time, I was relieved. I don’t know what I would have done or said if she wasn’t sort of seeing someone.
Gia is the farthest thing from a backroom forgettable fuck I can imagine. But that’s the only thing I’m interested in. She’s far better served with her sort of, non-exclusive boy who will no doubt realize how inane that is with a woman like her, and in no time, they’ll be serious, and I’ll be forgotten.
Ignoring the irritating discomfort that thought provokes, I page cardiology to come and admit my patient after diagnosing their new onset atrial fibrillation.
This is what I love about doing emergency medicine.
The constant busy work. The required concentration. The challenge of a mystifying diagnosis, even if this one wasn’t so obscure or complex. Of course, like anything else, you get your standard crap. Stuff that isn’t emergent and would be better cared for in an outpatient setting. But I don’t mind those cases the way many of my colleagues do.
Sure, the hours can suck. The work is taxing, but at least I don’t have to remind someone to get their colonoscopy or mammogram. I don’t have to manage someone’s hypertension or diabetes. I get them in, fix them up and get them out.
There is nothing more gratifying that that.
“Hi, Finn,” Felicia, one of the nurses says with that flirtatious intonation and smile. I glance briefly in her direction, but I don’t respond. I don’t fuck the women I work with. That formulates expectations I have no intention of filling, and generates gossip I have no desire to be a part of.
The night continues on, filled with patient after patient and when the night turns into dawn and the patients thin out and reinforcements arrive, I leave. My condo is only six blocks from here. An odd coincidence considering I purchased it long before I got this position.
A woman walks past me, heading into the ED panting for her life. She’s nine months pregnant and looks like she’s about to deliver any second. Typically, that’s a sight that would make my chest clench, but right now, it makes me think of Gia.
Gia.
What is it about her that draws me in? I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s more than her gorgeous face or alluring body.
It’s more than her long, thick raven hair or her magnificent blue-green eyes. It’s more than her smile which makes my heart beat in a way it hasn’t dared to before. It isn’t her quick wit or sarcasm.
It’s her, I realize. Just her. The entire death-of-me package.
I lied when I said I didn’t know she worked in the hospital. On my very first day as an attending in this hospital, I saw her walking through the hospital cafeteria with some blonde girl. They were smiling and laughing and I found myself captivated.
She sat down at a table across the room from where I was and I spent the entire half an hour she was there just…watching her. It was impossible not to. She appeared happy and I felt satisfied that she had managed to rebound after the loss of her father. As I watched her, I instinctively knew that I should stay away from her. I would not engage her the way I did outside the ED that first time.
And I vowed that if I ever did run into her, I’d be polite but nothing more.
But the moment I pulled her away from that oncoming car and realized it was her whom I had just rescued, all rational thought and common sense immediate fled. All I could think about was she almost died in front of me, but I saved her. And out of that realization, an unfathomable need arose.
A need for her.
The door to my regular coffee shop chimes out with one of those annoying bells overhead and I walk up to the counter. “May I help you?” the woman says with a smile. I see her a lot. Every time I come in here, she seems to be working. I open my mouth to speak when she says, “Dark roast?”
“That would be perfect, but can you make it decaf?”
“Sure. Whatever you want Doctor…” she trails off, hoping I’ll fill in the end of her sentence with my name.
“Banner,” I say with a tone that shuts everything else down.
She takes my curt response for what it is, a brush-off, and then goes about making my coffee. When she hands it to me, I give her fifteen and tell her to keep the change. She grins at the tip and I feel just a little better about being a dick.