Who'd Have Thought

by G. Benson

  And Hayden was definitely having some of those.

  Which was inconvenient.

  A lump was in her throat, swelling with each passing second. She kept her head under the spray. Emotions. That was not something she should have in this situation. They had a deal, one Hayden had agreed to. Willingly. For money.

  Friends was one thing.

  But this? Sleeping together and then Hayden wanting to cry in the shower? That was not part of the deal. It was not what Sam wanted from her.

  And that was okay.

  Sex could just be sex. Hayden could deal with her feelings. Privately.

  A few more months and this deal would be over. She was only—she was pushing emotions into this situation because she had nothing else going on. That was all. They wouldn’t sleep together again and they’d handle this and it would all be fine.

  And Hayden would ignore this weird tightness in her stomach.

  When she was drying off, she simply didn’t look at the small red mark over her breast. Or the purple one on the sensitive skin under her belly button.

  She also in no way thought about the way Sam’s lips had whispered over her hip bone, chasing her fingers over the skin of Hayden’s thigh. Or about the nip of her teeth in places Hayden hadn’t even known she’d liked.

  But she’d definitely liked it all last night.

  She also didn’t think about the vibrant ring of green in Sam’s eyes, barely visible around her blown-wide pupils.

  With her hair towel-dried and put on top of her head, Hayden realized she’d left her glasses upstairs next to Sam’s bed. Sighing, she dug up her old pair, which were scratched on the left lens, and jammed them on her face. She needed a walk. Outside air. Something to clear her mind of last night before she had to work. Throwing on some thick, black leggings, an oversized long-sleeved top, and some boots, she went to the kitchen, switched the coffee machine on, and made herself a cup. The smell wafted into the room, already calming the headache still sitting in the back of her skull. Before letting herself have a sip, she chugged a huge glass of water. Feeling bloated, she took a sip of her coffee.

  It was bliss.

  Bliss was interrupted by a tapping on the front door.

  She ignored it, knowing exactly what would happen. And she was right—the door crept open, and Jon popped his constantly stylishly-disheveled head around it. He grinned when he saw her—though smudges were under his eyes, the same kind Sam got when she was exhausted. With a stab in her gut, Hayden remembered he’d been alone last night.

  “Morning,” he said.

  Hayden stayed in the kitchen, cup still in her hands and warming her fingers. “Morning. Happy holidays.”

  “Happy holidays.” He pushed the door open and walked through with two groaning bags of groceries, which he dumped on the counter. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug that clung more than she had expected. She only just managed to put her mug down. But she returned it in kind. The burst of affection felt good after her whirlpool of thoughts from the shower.

  When he pulled back, his jester face was gone. Seriousness had replaced it, and Hayden saw it, more than ever: the similarity between him and Sam. “How was last night?”

  Hayden felt her heart still in her chest and she went to say something, anything, but came up empty. Right as her heart started again, racing far too quickly, it dawned on her and she could have kicked herself: he was asking about the dinner. “Last—last night? It was…”

  “As expected?”

  He let go of her shoulders and started unpacking the bags, vegetables and packages littering the counter.

  “I guess you could say that. Did you go to the shop so early?”

  “Couldn’t sleep.” He wasn’t looking at her now. There was something purposeful in it. “And how’s Sam?”

  “I, uh, haven’t talked to her this morning.”

  “Yeah but—” He turned, and Hayden could see the concern in his eyes, in the press of his lips. “How was she when you got home?”

  Hayden cleared her throat and reached for her coffee, her excuse to not look at Jon. Heat crawled up her neck, into her cheeks. “She was—quiet.”

  Except at certain moments in her bed.

  Hayden really wanted to kick herself. Not the thought to have when Jon was staring so intently at her. “You should really talk to her about it,” she tacked on somewhat lamely.

  His eyes widened. A grin grew on his face, and Hayden literally wanted to push it down with her hands. An impossible thought, but it didn’t stop her from raising them in panic.

  “Holy shit,” he said. “You two slept together.”

  “What?” Hayden’s voice was too high. “No—no we didn’t.”

  “Wow. You absolutely suck at lying. How have you sold this to people?” His eyes lit up. “Is it because you have a secret crush on her and didn’t have to lie at all?”

  “Jon.” Her gaze flicked to the stairs to make sure there was no sign of Sam descending from upstairs in her post-ill-advised-sex state. “Don’t be stupid. We didn’t have sex.”

  “You so did.” He was whispering now, delight coloring every word.

  “How do you know?”

  “So you don’t deny it?”

  “I did deny it, but clearly it didn’t help much. How did you know?”

  “You read like an open book. Was this the first time?”

  Their heads were ducked together, and they hissed words at each other like teenagers sharing gossip in the school corridors. And all Hayden felt was relief. It felt good to be sharing a small part of this. She clutched her coffee closer. “Yes.”

  “Were you both drunk?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you… Holy shit, Hayden, do you like her?”

  Too much. Too many feelings being revealed. She shook her head quickly. “No, I—I, no. It was, I don’t know. We drank a lot at the dinner, and Sam was sad, and—”

  “Jon, why do you have a turkey big enough to feed a family of ten?”

  They leaped apart at the sound of Sam’s voice.

  “Sam!” The name tumbled from her lips: not at all as it had the night before.

  But Sam barely glanced at her; rather, her focus was on the giant turkey Jon had left on the counter. How had Hayden missed that?

  Jon glanced at Hayden, then back to Sam. “You gave me cash to buy the food for today.”

  “I was thinking a chicken.”

  His shoulders slumped. “Oh. Well, I thought whatever we didn’t eat we could take out to people on the streets like we did other years with Mo—ah, other years?”

  Sam wasn’t even glancing at Hayden. “That’s a good idea.”

  “How was last night?”

  Sam straightened. Her face was washed out, her freckles a prominent smatter over her nose. “As we expected. Exactly so, actually.”

  He stared straight at Sam, and Hayden felt like she was witnessing something private. “I’m sorry,” he told her.

  The smile she offered him was small. Hayden’s gaze was fixated over her collarbone, where a mark like the one on her own breast lay. “It’s me and you now, kiddo,” she replied.

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He clapped his hands together once. “Right. Cooking.” His attention returned to the layout of ingredients scattered over the counter. “Food and stuff.”

  “You still want to be the one to cook?” Sam’s voice clearly showed she didn’t really want him to be.

  “Damn right. I googled. I’m all over how to roast this turkey.”

  “You’re not going to cause an explosion in my kitchen, are you?”

  “Hey, I’ve cooked before.”

  “In the microwave. You know we won’t be eating until tonight? Hayden and I work today.”

  “I wanted to get a head start. A, you know, really early head start.”

  More like he didn’t want to be alone in his apartment anymore, Hayden thought.

  She backed out of the room slowly. “Uh, speaking of work,
I should get there.”

  Jon looked at her, but Sam’s concentration stayed right on the food she was organizing in front of her. “Okay,” he said. “Is everything all right?”

  Hayden’s eyes fixed on Sam. Indifference poured from her, and Hayden’s stomach ached. “Oh, yeah.” She nodded vigorously. “Fine.”

  No way was Hayden going to go collect her coat from the balcony, or wherever it had ended up. She grabbed another one from her closet and dropped a kiss on the fast-asleep Frank’s head. He didn’t even move.

  Ready to leave, Hayden slipped out the door while the two siblings in the kitchen continued to bicker over how to cook a holiday meal.

  ~ ~ ~

  “You look like shit.”

  Hayden turned around as she pulled her gloves off, snapping them into the bin and washing her hands. “Why, thank you, Luce. I appreciate it.”

  Luce put their weight against the cart they were pushing over to restock the emergency carts with. “I noticed it this morning. But seriously, what’s up?”

  It was a day like yesterday before everything went to hell: barely any patients, the ER mostly quiet, the day spent restocking and performing checks. So far there’d been two kids with things stuffed up their noses, another with a huge bump on her head from riding her new bike down some stairs, a few broken bones from climbing ladders, and a scalp laceration on one man who insisted it was an accident despite smelling strongly of sherry.

  Hayden dried her hands. “Nothing’s up.” She glanced around, but no one was in earshot. “I had a few wines and feel a little hungover.”

  Luce smirked. “Meeting the family was stressful?”

  “You could say that.” Hayden tried for casual and to stop thinking about last night. She kept replaying the scene on the balcony over and over, as well as the few hours that followed. Each time she did, her stomach throbbed, and not unpleasantly. She wished it wasn’t such a blur, that she hadn’t drunk anything. But would it have happened if she hadn’t? Would that be a good thing? “How was meeting Clemmie’s parents?”

  “It went really well, actually.” Luce was almost glowing. “They were lovely and we ate until we couldn’t move, and her three brothers told me embarrassing stories about her.”

  “That sounds pretty textbook. And tonight she meets yours?”

  Luce blanched. “Yeah.”

  Hayden chuckled. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. You sound super sincere.”

  “I am.” Everything slowed down as Hayden looked across the ER and saw Sam walk in, a different intern behind her, holding files.

  Luce followed her gaze. “Oh yeah. Someone has a patient they think has an aneurysm. Wow—Sam looks as tired as you. Did you two really drink that much?”

  Hayden gave a small, nervous laugh. “Something like that.”

  Watching Sam was the worst thing she could be doing. Hayden knew that under that shirt were marks she’d left with her fingers and mouth the night before, when Sam had panted in her ear and asked for more.

  “I’m taking my break,” Hayden said. “Can you keep an eye on my one patient? Bay twelve. He’s waiting for a bed upstairs.”

  “Sure.”

  Hayden knew Luce’s gaze followed her out, and Hayden didn’t even care that she was all but fleeing the room.

  ~ ~ ~

  The house smelled delicious.

  “Jon, don’t tell me you pulled off the turkey?” Hayden walked into the kitchen and peered into the oven. Of what she could see, it was golden brown and delicious-looking.

  “I think I totally did.”

  Hayden turned, and he was at the dining table, placing plates around three spots. Wait, no, four.

  “Jon? Why are you setting four places?” His cheeks were a deep red, and Hayden’s mouth dropped open. “Have you got a hot date coming?”

  “What? No. No. Just a friend.”

  Hayden snorted.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Keep that up, and I’ll make you continue that conversation from this morning.” Hayden’s mouth snapped shut. “That’s what I thought.”

  Holding a glass under a tap, Hayden called over her shoulder, “Is Sam here?”

  “Nice try at nonchalance.”

  Hayden was not stealthy, so she took a sip, turning back around.

  Jon winked. “She’s upstairs.”

  That would explain why he was at least keeping his voice low while he tortured her.

  “Do you need a hand?” she asked.

  “No. I’m sorting it out. I got this.”

  The table was set simply. A candle in the center with some strange Christmas holly decoration. Other than that, there were knives and forks and a glass each.

  “It looks great.”

  “Thanks.” He paused at the table. “You miss your family at this time of year?”

  “Yeah. Especially Javi. He gets so excited. I called them on the way to work and again on my lunch break. I’ll go home next Christmas.”

  “Your family sounds pretty cool.”

  Hayden slumped against the counter and watched him fuss over the table some more. “They are. I mean, they can drive me crazy. But I’m pretty lucky.”

  “How were they when you came out?”

  “They were…fine, mostly. I mean, I came out in different stages. I had a boyfriend first. And I hadn’t really thought much about it all. But then I met this girl—”

  Jon gave a wolf whistle, and Hayden laughed. It died off when she saw Sam had padded down the stairs and was standing with a hand on the banister, watching them. But she plowed on, ignoring the way her heart stuttered. It had nothing to do with the tailored pants Sam was wearing, nor the low-cut top. “And I told them I thought I was a lesbian. They had a lot of questions, and Abuela especially—I think she thought I was going to have a really sad life? But they told me to bring her around for dinner and got to know her…”

  Jon was watching her, as if thirsty for this story that didn’t end sadly. “But you’re not a lesbian?”

  Hayden shook her head. “No. It was the year after high school I kind of figured it out. I used bisexual at first, and then discovered pansexual. Which took some explaining, but by that point, they just wanted me to be happy.” She cocked her head and tried to ignore the way Sam’s eyes were boring into her. “I’m really sorry that isn’t how your family feels.”

  He gave an awkward shrug, but no anger reddened his cheeks. “I’ve spent the last year accepting it all. I have Sam, which means more to me than it should, considering she’s a boring old lady.” He grinned at the last sentence, and his eyes lit up.

  It was apparently what got Sam to push off the banister and walk into the kitchen, her arms crossed. “I can hear you.”

  Jon turned around and covered his mouth. “Sam! I mean, of course it means a lot since you’re just so utterly fantastic.”

  Hayden snickered and tried to ignore the warmth in her chest as Sam walked over. For the first time that day, she met Hayden’s eye, and Hayden couldn’t see anything there about last night. She held her hand out over the counter, Hayden’s glasses in it. Hayden glanced down and swallowed hard.

  Sam didn’t say a word as Hayden took them. “Thanks.”

  Their fingers brushed past each other, and the feeling crawled up Hayden’s arm. Her body utterly sucked. It was getting goose bumps at a mere brush of their skin. Sam barely reacted.

  “How was your day?” Sam asked.

  Sam was fine. So completely fine. And Hayden thought she was going to vibrate apart on the floor. “Slow. No one used the curse word today.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered if they did.”

  “You say that, but let’s consider this: it was used yesterday, and the shift went to hell. It wasn’t used today, and I had the laziest shift I think I’ve ever had.”

  Sam shook her head, but that smile she used when she thought Hayden was being funny but didn’t want to admit it was there. It was small and cute, and damn it, Hayden had it bad. “The two are not relat
ed.”

  Hayden’s chest felt all breathless, the surprise of it leaving her with the wind knocked out of her. “You don’t know that.”

  And Sam shrugged and turned away, the curve of her neck meeting her shoulder at a place where Hayden wanted to trail a kiss, her breath hot over the skin just like last night, and leave a mark, faint like the one Hayden could see now. Sam picked up a thin scarf from the counter and wrapped it around her neck.

  Hayden drank the rest of her water.

  CHAPTER 24

  Sam was avoiding Hayden.

  Or Hayden was avoiding Sam.

  Maybe they were avoiding each other?

  Either way, there was avoidance.

  Hayden was on night shift over New Year—something she’d volunteered for—so it had been easy to hide. Or so she’d thought. It turned out that Sam was on call and she was consulting on a patient who’d coded, and Hayden spent over an hour brushing elbows with her as they saved the patient’s life.

  It was the stuff made of romance novels, and Hayden was left with her stomach in knots, her skin on fire, and her brain imprinted with the memory of Sam issuing orders in a cool and calm voice, her eyes flashing over the scene.

  They kept up the charade in public the few times it was an issue. Stood close and gave each other wifely looks, and all the time, Hayden’s heart was racing in her chest. They left together some days from the hospital. Their rings stayed on their fingers. From the outside, nothing changed.

  But at home, they managed to rarely be in each other’s space. It were as if they’d both taken a huge step back and had a radar for how to avoid each other.

  And that went great for a few weeks. With lots of snide comments from Jon.

  Who Hayden mostly managed to avoid too.

  Then Luce managed to get her alone, their eyes all lit up. “So, you’re still coming, right?”

  Hayden’s hand stopped, coffee halfway to her lips in the cafeteria where she knew Sam rarely went. “Uh…”

  Luce slid into a chair opposite Hayden, raising that one judgmental eyebrow perfectly as they did so. “You forgot.”

  “No…”