I clenched my teeth. The demand that he release me was on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t force it out to save my life.
“Jacob,” I finally said instead. It was only then that his hand loosened until it fell completely away from my wrist. The coldness I felt at his release was startling. But I wasn’t going to stand there and ponder it with his gaze still trained on me.
Free to move, I did so, carrying my tray over to the garbage to discard my half-eaten plate, and then I hightailed it out of the cafeteria, doing my best not to look back to see ifJacob’seyes were following me.
****
All throughout my swim and up until the moment I crawled into bed and passed out the night before, I’d thought of him. Luckily, I was so tired my sleep was dreamless, but I’d be damned if he wasn’t the first thought on my mind when I woke up that morning.
I did everything I could to dissuade my obviously broken brain from going back to the feeling of his hand covering my wrist. Surgeons had strong hands, they had to. While all physicians needed to have an obvious level of intelligence and mental acumen, surgeons depended on their physical bodies as well to be able to perform the delicate cuts, stitches, and movements required to perform their jobs. Jacob was no different. However, there was something very different about the feel of his skin on mine that I hadn’t anticipated, nor wanted, but couldn’t ignore.
I did everything I could to stop thinking about that moment in the cafeteria as I showered, washed, and then conditioned my hair. I sung songs, tried to think of a new outfit to perform in. Reminded myself of the patients that I saw the day before and what it was I needed to be cognizant of when I went into work that day. But of course, thoughts of work immediately went to thoughts ofhim.I couldn’t win.
I finally gave up on even trying anymore when a loud banging came from my door, as soon as I stepped out of the shower.
“Just a minute!” I called while tying my black, fuzzy robe around my body, before tightening the belt and slipping my feet into a pair of slippers to head to the door.
“I’m coming!” I called to the impatient knocker. It couldn’t be a delivery man this damn insistent. Glancing through the peephole, a smile touched my lips. I couldn’t get my door opened fast enough.
“Journey!” I flung the door wide, arms outstretched, excited to see my sister standing there on the other side of my threshold.
“What took you so damn long?” she questioned loudly as she pulled me into a tight hug.
“First of all, watch your tone when talking to me, little girl,” I warned just after ushering her in and closing the door. In spite of my not wanting or intending to, I couldn’t help but treat my younger sister as if she was my child instead of my sibling.
“And second of all, I was in the shower. Had you told me you were coming, I would’ve known to be expecting you.”
“Never mind that. Do you have anything to eat?”
Before I could even answer her question, Journey zigzagged through the furniture of my living room and made a beeline for my kitchen, dropping the lime green backpack she wore onto one of my grey and white stools at the bar in the center of the kitchen.
Since my home had an open floor plan, I could easily see her from my position in the living room. First, she raided the cabinets, frowning until she found a jar of peanut butter and the large box of animal crackers, which were her favorite.
“See! You knew I was coming.” She grinned, holding up the box and shaking it.
I didn’t need to admit that wherever I lived I kept a box of her favorite treat on hand just because.
“When’s the last time you’ve eaten?” I questioned, moving to the kitchen and staring as she voraciously scooped what looked like a full tablespoon of peanut butter onto one of the crackers before shoving it into her mouth. My sister still ate like a teenager, but by looking at her you would never know. Her five-foot-six frame appeared as if she barely weighed more than a hundred twenty pounds.
“Uh, what’s today?” The question was muffled due to the food in her mouth. “Anyway, I’ve been traveling all day.”
“All day? It’s barely eight o’clock in the morning.” I frowned, a funny feeling rising in my belly.
Journey’s dark-hazel eyes couldn’t seem to focus on one thing for too long. “All night, I guess.”
“Why all night?” I asked as I took in the tie-dye T-shirt she wore with the ripped jeans. The outfit looked to be in style for someone her age, but her appearance seemed as if she’d been wearing the clothing for more than a night. “The flight here from home is only about two hours.”
Journey lived in the next state over, and there were frequent flights to and from Williamsport and the hometown we grew up in.
“Oh, I didn’t come from home. I took the bus from Chicago.”
My eyes bulged. “Chicago? The bus? Why?”
Shrugging, she placed the still open box of animal crackers on my marble countertop, spilling crumbs onto the shiny black counter.
“I need some water.” She hurriedly moved to my double door refrigerator, yanking the doors open and taking it all in.
“You only have vegetables in here.” Her voice was disgusted as she slammed both doors closed.
