by Melinda Minx
I turn to the left and then to the right and look at myself in the mirror. I guess they actually look kind of good? I like how they accentuate the curve of my ass into my waist. The bit of extra fat on my waist is just squeezed up by the thick, high waist of the jeans.
I dig through the bag and look at my options for a top. I half expect to see some kind of neon pink halter top, or maybe a shirt with one loose shoulder hanging off—or any number of weird late 80s and early 90s fashions. Something straight out of Dirty Dancing. If mom jeans are back, why not all that other stuff?
I laugh, thinking about Kaden wearing short shorts like Tom Cruise and Val Kilmer in the volleyball scene from Top Gun.
I’m pretty relieved when I see that the tops are not too crazy. I settle on a subdued, maroon colored t-shirt with a slight V-neck. I get it on and am flabbergasted by how big my boobs look in what I would have considered a conservative t-shirt.
I guess that’s what my body looks like now, so I should get used to it. I can’t exactly complain about getting giant boobs seemingly overnight.
I neatly fold the clothes I didn’t choose to wear and put them back into the bag, and then I exit the bathroom and head back down the hall toward my room.
Walking still feels slightly off, but the more I walk, the more normal it feels. Kaden said I can probably be out of the hospital in a week or less.
I come back into the room and see Kaden leaning against the wall, his tattooed forearms crossed against his wide chest. His dark eyes widen when he sees me, almost imperceptibly, and he glances down at my body. I notice his lips part slightly, and he looks back up at me with the hint of a smirk.
“Do I look okay?” I ask.
“You look great,” he says. “I’ve never seen you without the hospital gown. You’re awake, Rose.”
“Of course I’m awake,” I say.
“It’s really hitting me, though, right now, that you’re going to get to live a normal life.”
“Mostly normal,” I say, looking down at my feet. “I’m still not sure what I’m going to do.”
“You’ll figure it out,” he says. “No matter how you look at it, it’s better than sleeping forever.”
I smile. “I was never an early riser, but I don’t think I’ll ever want to sleep in again after this. I’ll wake up every morning at the crack of dawn.”
“Good attitude,” he says, grinning. “So where do you want to go for your night out?”
It’s supposed to be a supervised few hours out of the hospital with my doctor babysitting me. But when the doctor is as hot as Kaden Prince, it’s hard to not think of it like a date. It’s silly to let myself dream like that, but it feels too good not to. I went too long without dreaming.
“Uh,” I say. “I’d like to eat some real food. I’ve been craving…”
I trail off. I don’t want to tell my doctor that I’ve been craving a hamburger and fries. It sounds so unsophisticated. Kaden is a rich doctor with a lot of experience, and I’m basically just a 25-year-old virgin who has fresh memories of high school.
“What?” he says. “Whatever you have a craving for, we’ll get it.”
“Uh,” I stammer. “I was going to say hamburgers and—”
“Perfect,” he says. “There’s a new place I can take you to. It’s amazing. Hamburger technology has advanced a lot in the past seven years.”
I smile, feeling relieved that he didn’t look down his nose at me.
We leave the building and enter the hospital gardens. I’ve been outside here a few times before, but it didn’t really feel like being outside. There were a lot of other sick people around me, and I wasn’t allowed to go far or do anything on my own.
We walk further out, and eventually we enter the parking garage.
“It would take a while to walk there,” Kaden says. “You don’t mind driving, do you?”
“Uh,” I say. “As long as you drive.”
“Of course,” he says, laughing.
We get to his car, and I don’t know two things about cars, but one thing I can figure out is that his car looks expensive.
“Woah,” I say.
“Oh,” Kaden says, grinning. “I should have shown you this car instead of Siri if I wanted to impress you. It’s a Tesla, and it’s fully electric. No gas at all.”
“So it’s slow?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “It’s fast. I can show you, just promise me that you won’t throw up in my car.” He winks at me.
“Not too fast then,” I say.
“Check this out,” he says, handing me the key.
I look at it, but I realize it’s not actually a key. It looks like a plastic beetle. “What’s this?”
“It’s the key,” he says. “Just walk up near the car.”
I clutch the key and walk toward the car. When I get about five feet away from it, I see the door begin to open automatically. “Woah!”
He laughs. “Get in.”
I slide into the car on the passenger’s side, and Kaden slides into the driver’s seat. I hand the keys to him.
“Are all cars like this now?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, not exactly.”
I feel a little embarrassed asking. I remember he’s a brain surgeon—and that he had made millions of dollars before he even picked up a scalpel—and he probably has a much nicer car than everyone else does.
We drive out of the garage, and I feel a thrill blossoming in my chest. It feels so intimate, being alone in the car with him. Even though he’s just driving me around as his patient, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something else there between us.
We get out of the immediate area of the hospital, and I see the U.S. Steel Tower on the skyline, and all of Pittsburgh’s bridges, some disappearing into tunnels. It’s a familiar sight, and it hasn’t changed at all.
We soon come to a parking lot, and Kaden drives up to a weird machine.
“It’s right across the street from here,” he says.
“The parking lot said it’s $8 to park, do—?”
He points to the machine. “Not for electric cars. This car pays for itself eight dollars at a time. After I park 25,000 times, the car is basically free.”
He pulls the cord off the machine, then presses a button on the little beetle thing. The gas tank pops open—but I remember it’s not actually a gas tank. The...charging flap? He plugs the car in, and gestures for me to start walking.
We walk side by side, arms almost brushing together as we walk. I remember when he kind-of-sort-of held my hand, but now that I can walk fine on my own, there’s no pretense for that.
I walk out into the street after looking to the left, but then I feel his protective hand grab hold of my forearm. I’m yanked back toward the sidewalk, and his other hand finds the small of my back.
A car zooms past us from the right.
“Oh,” I stammer. “How did I not—?”
“It’s normal,” he says. “Even though it doesn’t feel like it to you, it’s been a long time since you were out. Your reactions and awareness are going to be weaker for a while. That’s one reason I’m out with you. I’m supervising you.”
And what’s the other reason? It’s almost tempting to ask him, but if he gave another dry, clinical answer, it would dash my hopes.
“I’ll look both ways,” I say. I check carefully, and only when no cars are coming, do we both cross the street.
Kaden holds the door of the restaurant open for me, and we step inside. It’s bustling and full of people, and the delicious smell of burgers frying on the grill hits my nose. I feel my mouth watering.
I see a long line, and I realize it’s the kind of place you have to order first. No waiters.
“I’m not trying to cheap out on you,” he says, pointing at the line, “but this place simply has the best burgers. I don’t discriminate based on price or service. The best food is the best food.”
I smile. “I agree.”
We join the line-up
, and I realize that the big menus are actually giant LCD screens. I’ve never seen that before. I study the menu, trying to decide what to get.
“For my money,” Kaden says, “it’s the blue cheese burger.”
Blue cheese? The stuff that smells like feet? I feel like that would ruin a burger. I realize that my favorite burger has only ketchup and mustard, and no vegetables. A little kid’s burger.
“Sounds good,” I say, forcing a nervous smile.
“You don’t like blue cheese, do you?” he asks.
“Uhh—”
“It’s an acquired taste,” he says. “You can acquire tastes later, order what you want to eat. You can’t go wrong here.”
He puts a hand on the small of my back again, and nudges me in front of him. I hold my breath as his strong hand touches me. I wish he’d never let go.
He points into the kitchen, which is in plain view from the line, as there’s no wall separating it. “See that?”
I nod, not knowing what he’s focusing on.
“Fresh potatoes,” he says. “No frozen stuff. They have the best fries this side of Belgium.”
Kaden orders his blue cheese burger, and I order the basic burger, asking them to hold the lettuce, tomato, and onion.
We grab our cups to fill our drinks while we wait for them to call out our order number. We approach a giant touchscreen with our cups.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Oh,” he says. “Yeah, these are kind of new. Check it out. Ever wanted some weird-ass flavor of drink that they never have anywhere? Like blackberry-flavored Barq’s root beer?”
He presses the Barq’s button, then fifteen other variants of Barq’s pop up. He selects blackberry and fills up his cup. “I always get some crazy new thing every time I see one of these.”
“Cool…” I whisper. It almost reminds me of when I was younger at a fountain drink machine with a bunch of kids, and we’d mix like six different drinks together. Though this is definitely less gross, since Hi-C, Kool-Aid, Dr. Pepper, and orange soda was never really a tasty combo.
“I’ll get…” I say, pressing the button for Diet Coke. “Orange-flavored Diet Coke...with vanilla twist.”
“Cool,” he says. “Never tried that one.”
I fill my cup and hand it to him. “Want to try a taste?”
I immediately regret it, feeling nervous and gross. I’m his patient, and I doubt he wants to share a drink with me—
“Sure,” he says, grabbing the cup and taking a swig. “Hmmm, not bad. Try mine.”
He hands his cup to me. I guess he’s not nervous about getting my germs. It’s almost like...almost like he actually did kiss me. Like I didn’t dream it.
We find a table, and when they call our number, Kaden pulls a chair out for me to sit down. “Be right back.”
He grabs our food and brings it to the table. I eat a fry immediately, and it tastes so good. It’s got the perfect crunch on the outside, and inside it’s a perfectly cooked potato.
I notice that Kaden’s fries are covered in ketchup, mayo, and diced onion.
“That looks gross,” I say, pointing.
“It’s amazing,” he says, stabbing into it with a fork. “You gotta eat it with a fork, though, too messy otherwise.”
He holds the fork out to me. “Want to try a bite?”
I nod reluctantly. I don’t really want to, but I don’t want him to think that I have no sense of adventure.
I bite into the forkful of fries, and the same delicious crispy crunch is there, but then the onion crunch and the strong flavor of the ketchup and mayo hits me. As gross as it looked, I can’t deny that it tastes great.
I swallow and smile.
“Yeah?” Kaden says. “Pretty awesome, right?”
I nod, and he scoops some of the sauce and onions onto his fork and plops it down beside my fries. “Help yourself to mine if you want more.”
I bite into my burger, and it’s really good, too. I take a few bites of burger and fries, then I wash it down with my orange-vanilla Diet Coke. It feels like I’m in heaven after eating the horrible hospital food for the last several days.
Kaden cuts off a piece of his burger with his knife and fork, and puts it down on my plate. “If you want to try it, but no pressure, though.”
I pick it up between my fingers and look at it. It’s got some kind of balsamic vinegar sauce on it, and the blue cheese is melted and splashed with the vinegar. I put the piece into my mouth and chew. The blue cheese hits me, but it’s binded in with the juicy fat from the burger, and then the acid of balsamic vinegar hits me, tempering the bite of the cheese just before it would get overpowering.
“Woah,” I say, once I’ve swallowed it down. “This makes my burger taste...uh...basic.”
Kaden laughs, and cuts his burger in half.
“Trade with me,” he says. “Half of yours for half of mine.”
We swap burger halves.
“It’s like,” I say, “…it’s like my tastes actually changed while I was sleeping. I know I’m actually twenty-five now, but I keep thinking I’m still eighteen. It’s like my subconscious and my body both realize they missed out on seven years, and they are racing to catch up.”
Kaden nods. “Yeah, it’s a natural reaction. You’ll want to make up for lost time, all the things you normally would have done from eighteen to twenty-five, you’ll feel a serious urge to experience them.”
I find myself looking down at his strong hands as he speaks. I imagine those manly, protective hands cupping my breasts, and his fingers stroking lightly against my chin, pulling me in for a kiss.
I feel my face burning red. The experience I most want to have and make up for is definitely sex. How can I tell him that?
“Yeah,” I say, laughing nervously. “I’ll have to try to eat all kinds of new stuff.”
We finish eating and go back to Kaden’s car. He unplugs the charger, and we get inside.
“I should take you back now,” he says.
I frown. “It feels like I just left. I still haven’t seen how fast the car can go…”
He laughs. “All right, I’ll show you.”
He drives through a lot of city roads until we hit the highway exit. He takes us onto the highway.
“Oh,” he says. “I forgot to tell you, the car can autopilot.”
He hits a button, and lets go of the wheel.
“You’re joking!” I shout, but then I watch as the wheel moves on its own.
I look to make sure his knee isn’t moving the wheel from the bottom, but he’s not touching it at all. The LCD screen in the middle of the dash shows a map of the road ahead.
“It’s almost as cool as Back to the Future,” I say.
He puts the left turn signal on, and the car drives itself into the left lane.
“Hold onto something,” he says, taking the wheel. The autopilot disengages.
I look around for something to hold onto. I squeeze the right door with my right hand, and—without thinking—I grab onto Kaden’s arm with my left.
He shoots me a look, hesitates, and then grabs my hand. “Hold tight.”
Yes, sir.
He hits the gas, and it suddenly feels as if my stomach has dropped out of my body. I’m pinned against the seat, and the car accelerates forward like a roller coaster on its first big drop. I squeeze his hand as hard as I can. It feels so solid, and he squeezes mine back, making me feel safe even as we accelerate well past 140 miles per hour—if I'm reading the screen correctly.
We hit 150, and finally he kills the gas. My adrenaline is surging through my veins, and I hear Kaden laughing as he squeezes my hand.
“That never gets old,” he says.
We coast back down to a mere 80 miles per hour, and I finally breathe normally again. “You never get caught?”
“I don’t do it often,” he says, grinning. “Only when I want to impress someone.”
He wants to impress me? I realize we’re still holding hands, but neither
of us makes a move to let go.
“I’m impressed,” I say, breathing heavy.
7
Kaden
I’m holding my patient’s hand. Rose’s hand. I should let go. We’re not even driving fast anymore. She’s not loosening her grip at all, though, and I realize she is feeling the same thing I am. The thing I shouldn’t feel for her.
It feels too good to fight, though, and I don’t let go of her hand.
“Do we have to go back now?” she asks.
I look at the upcoming exit, and realize it will take us to the dock on the Allegheny. It’s a place I like to go to think.
“We should,” I say.
She squeezes my hand. “Really?”
“Should,” I emphasize. “But a while longer won’t hurt.”
We reach the dock, and I have to let go of her hand to get out of the car. We reluctantly part, and I go around the front of the car to open the door for her, forgetting that the door actually opens itself. So much for chivalry.
I reach down and take her hand instead, and I don’t let go of it once she’s on her feet. A line has been crossed already, but there would still be a way back from here.
I could stop right now, tell her how inappropriate this was getting. I could make her understand that even though I do have feelings for her, and realize she does for me as well, that’s she’s vulnerable now, and—
No...I can’t let go of her hand. I want to stay near her, and I don’t care how bad an idea it might be. It’s what feels right, despite what anyone else might think, and despite how bad it might be for my career.
We reach the end of the dock, and some stone benches. It looks like it was set up as a public place for people to walk out onto the water, but I never see anyone else here, especially at night.
The sound of jazz playing in the distance reflects off the water. I point toward the amphitheater. “They always have live music going there, and you can hear it clearly from here since the water amplifies the sound.”
“So you come here to avoid paying?” she asks, giggling.