by Penny Wylder
There's something too real in his voice. "Are you okay?"
"Of course," he says, but there's a flash of pain in his eyes that he doesn't entirely hide, and I don't dare ask what it is. I can't push him for that. I don't have that right, yet.
"So," I say, changing the subject, putting on a smile. "You like me. I like you. You're not using me for sex. So what are we doing?"
"I want to know you," Adam says. "I want to date you. And, if after a few dates you decide you still like me, I have every intention of asking you to be my girlfriend. After that, who knows?"
My breath catches in my chest. In high school, there's almost nothing that I wouldn't have done to hear Adam say something like that. And it feels just as good, if not more, now. He wants me. He likes me.
"I like that plan," I say, yawning. I'm suddenly tired. "When do you have to leave?"
"Not for a while."
I shake myself a little. "I don't want to fall asleep. Not while you're here."
"Why not?" This smile is real and more like what I already recognize as the real Adam.
"Because you're here, and it still feels new and like we're on borrowed time."
He brushes the hair back from my face. "We're not on borrowed time. And if you're tired, you should sleep. I'll hold you for as long as I can."
The butterflies in my stomach are totally out of control right now, but the sudden burst of exhaustion is pulling me down, and Adam tucks me closer to his body. His warmth is so good, and I fade into what feels like total and complete safety and comfort.
I don't know how long it is when I surface, Adam tucking a blanket around my body. He's crouched down by me and I reach out for his hand. "Don't go."
"Believe me, I don't want to." He kisses me softly. "But I have to. I'll see you soon."
"Promise?"
"Promise." He finishes arranging the blanket around me, and I hear his footsteps leaving as I fade back to sleep.
15
Ollie
Adam doesn't text the next day. Or the next. I start to get nervous because even though he said all those nice things, that was right after we'd had sex and he was happy. Who knows, maybe he didn't mean it? My gut tells me he wasn't lying but I can't make ten years of anxiety just evaporate.
I text Lorraine and all she texts back is an eye roll emoji. Then,
Girl, that boy is so hooked on you, I can't believe you'd even think that.
He isn't hooked on me.
Yes he fucking is. And don't argue with me.
It's my turn to roll my eyes, and I put my phone down only to hear it buzz again.
If you're worried, why don't you bring him lunch or something? Medical students eat like shit while they’re on these kinds of shifts. Plus, you'd get to see him?
I mean...that could work?
What if he doesn't want me showing up at work?
If he doesn't, then that's not exactly a good sign. Like he wants you to keep you a secret. If you're really worried, then this is a good solution. It will tell you what he's thinking.
I don't really like the idea of testing him when he doesn't know what's happening.
I mean, you're not doing it as a test, you want to see him right?
Yeah, of course.
Well, then go see him. It's just a side effect that his reaction to you will show you a lot about where you stand.
I suppose that's true.
It is. Go get him.
It's almost the end of the workday, and I'm basically killing time anyway. My boss knows that I do my work and get it done, so he doesn't care when I come and go. He trusts that whatever I need to do is in good hands.
I double-check that everything is taken care of before packing up. I honestly have no idea what Adam likes to eat, but I'm going to take a chance and pick up some pasta from one of my favorite places. Pasta seems like a safe choice. Most people like pasta, right? Besides, it has to be better than hospital food either way.
For a second I debate going home to change out of my really boring work clothes, but I'm way closer to the hospital here at work. Going all the way back to Astoria and coming back to Manhattan would easily take more than an hour, and I don't want to waste that kind of time.
I place the order for the food before I head out the door. This is one of my go-tos for lunch when I forget to pack one. They're fast and delicious without being overly expensive. When you find those qualities in a restaurant in New York, it’s kind of like spotting a unicorn.
When I walk in the door ten minutes later, my food is already packed and waiting, and it takes me less than five minutes to pay and get out. Now that I'm committing, I feel a buzz of excitement in my stomach. There's a small part of me that thinks I should text him first, but fuck it, I want to surprise him. And I definitely want to see how hot he looks in scrubs.
I take a cab to the Upper East Side, not wanting to deal with rush-hour delays on the subway. There's still a bit of traffic, but I think it's faster. I have the cab drop me off at the main entrance to the hospital. Now I just have to figure out where exactly the pediatrics department is.
A friendly woman at the front desk gives me directions, and I follow them as best I can through a maze of hallways and a couple of elevators. I know that I've found the right place when the elevator doors open and there's a giant bulletin board filled with children's drawings right in front of the door.
It's still very maze-like, but I find my way to a nurse’s station. "Hi," I say to the woman dressed in pale pink scrubs. "I'm looking for Dr. Carlisle."
"Are you the mother of a patient?" she asks.
"No," I say, blushing despite the fact that I have no reason. "I'm...uhhh...I brought him dinner."
She smiles then. "Oh you must be the girlfriend. I'll page him for you."
The girlfriend. He's already told people about me? Something about that gives me a little twinge of happiness. She speaks into the phone, paging him to the nurse’s station and I wait, biting my lip with nervousness.
He comes around the corner, and damn, scrubs are a good look for him. He could be a doctor from a TV medical drama with how hot he looks. The dark blue sets off his tan skin and blue eyes. It takes him a second to see me, but when he does, he breaks into a huge smile. "What are you doing here?"
"I brought you food," I say.
Adams eyes go wide. "Seriously?"
"Seriously."
He laughs, pulling me in for a quick kiss. "You're a lifesaver. Now I don't have to eat from the vending machine."
"You guys don't have a cafeteria?" I ask as he takes my hand and guides us away from the nursing station.
"We do, but trust me, you don't want to eat there. I do it as little as possible. But we'll go there now, cause it's the easiest place to eat."
I squeeze his hand. "I'm not interrupting anything?"
"You actually came at a really good time. Visiting hours are almost over and I have to do my rounds in a little while. But I can play hooky for a while."
"I'm glad," I say. "I was nervous you wouldn't be happy with me just showing up. But I wanted to see you."
Adam lets go of my hand, instead wrapping his arm around my hips as we walk. "This was an amazing surprise. I haven't been able to get you out of my head, and I'm sorry I haven't been able to text."
We take a set of stairs down one floor and through a set of double doors to a sterile white room filled with tables and chairs and a really depressing looking food line. "So what are we having?" he asks as we grab a table off to the side.
I hand him the bag. "I didn't know what you liked, so I thought that pasta was a safe bet."
He sticks his face in the bag and groans. "It's an amazing bet. I love Italian and this smells fucking amazing. Thank you."
I help him get the take-out containers out of the bag and he steps away from the table to grab some plates and silverware. "Where on earth did you get this?" he asks. "It's really good."
I tell him about my unicorn Italian place and I think I may hav
e a new convert on my hands.
"I wonder if I tip them really well if they'll deliver up here," he says.
"Never know unless you try. And if they don't, I can sometimes be your delivery service."
Adam smiles. "I'd like that."
"How are things here?"
His face falls a bit. "They've been a bit crazy. We had some transfer cases that have all hands on deck. Just some really sick kids. We're doing everything we can, but it's touch and go at the moment."
I reach across the table and take his hand. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's not your fault. But we've all been running around a little more than normal. Which is why I haven't texted. I wanted to."
I shake my head. "Don't worry, I get it."
"As soon as I get out of here on Thursday I want to take you out."
"You're done with your shifts then?"
He nods, taking another bite of spaghetti and sauce. "Yes, and if you're not sick of it, I have an Italian restaurant of my own that I'd love to take you to."
"Which one?"
"Del Posto."
I try to keep my mouth from falling open. Del Posto is an amazing restaurant in lower Manhattan near the river. I've know it's amazing because it's expensive and exclusive.
Adam smiles when he sees my face. "What?"
"You can get into Del Posto?"
"Sure."
I shake my head. "That's...insane."
"But you want to go?"
"Yes, of course I want to go!" I say it a little too loudly and suddenly I'm looking around to make sure I didn't startle any sick people. "I can't believe that's where you want to take me. It's going to be way better than this," I gesture to our food.
"Seriously, Ollie," he says, "this is amazing. You saved me from having Cheez-Its for dinner."
I smile. "Okay."
"Come visit me whenever you want. I can't promise that I'll be free, but I'll always try to come say hi." He lowers his voice, "And if I have time, there's more than that I'll do."
"Oh?" I ask. "Do tell."
16
Adam
I can't believe she's here. The past two days I've barely had a chance to breathe, and every time I run into Dr. Pratt, he smiles at me like an idiot and I sink a little lower. I've wanted to talk to Ollie, to hold her, anything, but I've barely been able to eat. The fact that she brought me food without even asking, it makes my chest ache. This is what I've been missing.
Sasha has never done anything like this in our entire time being "together." If she really cared, you might think that she would show it. Or at least pretend. And that's why we're not together. And why Ollie is sitting across from me with that coy little smile on her face. I like the way her hair is falling into her eyes and the way the buttons on her shirt are a little too tight. I shift in my chair because I'm getting hard and I can't actually take her on top of a table in the cafeteria even if I desperately want to.
Her eyes are sparkling with mischief, and suddenly I'm not hungry for more food. I glance on my watch. I still have a little time. "I could show you, if you wanted."
She clears away what little is left of the food into the nearest trashcan and I take her back upstairs and to one of the on-call rooms. I glance both ways just to make sure that Dr. Pratt isn't around before we slip inside and I lock the door.
"I swore this only happened on TV," she says.
"You'd be surprised at the amount of drama from those shows that's pretty close to reality," I say, loving the way her face lights up like she's just won a prize.
"I like you in scrubs," she says, voice suddenly low and intense. And I'm frozen in place because Ollie's on her knees and has my pants down and her mouth on me before I can blink. I sink back against the door, overwhelmed by the heat of her mouth oh my cock. "Shit, Ollie."
She hums, and god, the way that feels makes me want to lose it. But I'm not going to. Not yet.
She teases me with her tongue, swirling around the tip of my cock and licking downward and back up. I can't breathe because damn it feels good.
My whole body is tense. Just the fact that Ollie is here and willing to do this is enough to make me come, and the only way I'm going to last is gritting my teeth and hanging on as long as I can.
Ollie rises up on her knees, and dives down onto my cock. The sound that comes from my throat is barely human, but I can't help it. I'm sheathed in soft, perfect heat, and she's sucking me like it's the one thing she was made to do. I hit her throat and I clench my jaw. I'm not small, and she has almost all of me inside. Holy fuck.
I look down and see her lips wrapped around me, and my cock jerks. It's one of the hottest things I've ever seen. Then she looks up, and Ollie’s green eyes on mine, mouth stretched on my cock. Oh my god.
She sucks back up my shaft and dives down again and I can't hold on. "Ollie," I manage, just a second before pleasure shoots from my balls into my cock and up into my spine. Waves of warmth and pleasure rocket through me, so intense I lose my vision. And through it I can still feel Ollie sucking.
"Jesus, Ollie," I say, bracing myself on the door. She grins at me, giving my cock a saucy lick before I pull her off her knees and onto the bed. "Food and you," I say. "This really was the best surprise I could have asked for."
She giggles and the happiness in that sound gets under my skin, and for a second I don't feel like everything is hopeless. Like maybe we can actually have this.
I undo the buttons on her shirt one at a time, kissing every inch of skin that I reveal. I like the way I can hear her little gasps as I kiss her, like every touch is a shock.
The bra she's wearing is simple and black, and that's just as sexy as wearing lingerie because I know this was spur of the moment for her. She decided to come see me and she came as she was, she didn't think she needed to dress up or do anything different, and I love that.
Ollie moans softly as I play with her breasts. I've never known a woman who gets so turned on by this and it makes me hard again. I've never done this in an on-call room before, though I know plenty of others who have.
Dipping down, I trace her belly button with my tongue, and my hand is on the zipper of her pants when there's a knock on the door, and the handle rattles. "Dr. Carlisle?"
It's Darcy, the nurse on duty. Shit. "Yes?"
"You're needed in the PICU."
"I'll be right there." I rest my head on Ollie's stomach. "I'm sorry, I have to go."
She sits up, quickly buttoning her shirt, and there's a blush on her face. She's embarrassed. "It's okay."
I tilt her face up to mine and kiss her, deep as I can for the moment I can spare. "I owe you several orgasms and one amazing Italian dinner."
"Yes, you do," she says, grinning.
"I'll text you tonight, okay?"
"Okay."
I press my lips to hers one final time before adjusting my clothes and jogging out of the room. A PICU call is one that I can't ignore. I didn't hear them page me on the overhead and they didn't actually page me—probably because Darcy already knew where I was. I'm hoping it’s something that I can help, and that I'm not too late.
* * *
Thankfully the call wasn't an emergency, even though all PICU calls are treated that way as a matter of course. One of our kids had thrown up. He's already too small and the vomit could be a sign of something worse, but I think it's just an upset stomach. None of his other vitals are in bad shape. I'm doing tests just to be safe.
I told the parents and now I'm heading to the locker room to get my phone. I'm keeping my word that I'm going to text Ollie tonight. Who knows, maybe I can convince her to send me some pictures. I wasn't finished with her, and that unfinished business is now rising in my pants.
"Adam!"
A chill goes down my spine, and I turn to find Sasha and her father walking down the hallway toward me. She waves enthusiastically. I wait for them to catch up to me. "Hello," I say, letting her kiss my cheek. It's the one thing I'll let her do.
Dr. Pratt's
hand lands on my shoulder. "Sasha came by to say hello and tell me that your first sonogram is next week."
I look at Sasha. "I didn't know that."
"Yep!" she says. "All scheduled."
"I'll let you two have a moment alone," Dr. Pratt says. "Adam, meet me for rounds when you're finished."
"Yes, sir."
I wait until he's around the corner before I turn on Sasha. "A sonogram? How exactly are you going to explain to the technician that you are completely not with child?"
She waves a hand. "It will be fine. I'll have a tragic miscarriage before then."
"Do you know anything about pregnancy or did you just read the cover of a magazine? You're barely at the stage where you can tell you’re pregnant. How exactly are you going to pull off knowing that you had a miscarriage? Not to mention the fact that you're treating something very painful for a lot of people like it doesn't mean anything."
She looks at me, and her eyes narrow. "The only thing that means anything is that you and I are together, and we're going to stay that way. I know you don't see it that way, but trust me, it's for your own good. You may not see it now, but you will."
"Fuck off, Sasha."
Slipping closer to me, her face softens, and I've seen that face before when she's going to try to get what she wants. "I see you're having a little bit of a problem," she says, glancing down at my pants. "I can help you with that."
She reaches for me, and I catch her by the wrist. "Don't ever touch me. You're blackmailing me into being with you. What makes you think I would ever let you touch me?"
Sasha pouts. "Come on, Adam. What can you possibly see in that slut that I don't have?"
"Maybe the fact that even though you've tried to ruin her life multiple times, she would never call you a slut." I turn and walk away from her, not looking back. Jesus, I need to get out of this mess, but I still don't know how.
I make it to the locker room without another interruption, and grab my phone. It's time for me to get a few hours of sleep, and for me to text Ollie.