Sara:That's a strange way of pronouncing self-destructive.
Alex:You are not self-destructive! You are fierce! You are a fucking badass surgeon and you take zero shit from the shit sellers!
Sara:Except on the occasions when I take all their shit and can't even stop myself from enjoying it.
Alex:I know you and I know you don't do that! What are you even talking about? Heresy, that's what this is.
Sara:Honey, are you in the OR tomorrow? Because this might be the time to switch over to water if you are.
Alex:Nope!
Sara:Carry on, then.
Chapter8
Sara
I wasan expert at pretending nothing was wrong. It was my oldest and most convincing trick. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to see here. Definitely no catastrophic sex mistakes.
Nope. None of that.
After a full—and blessedly distracting—morning of surgery, I finally had a break and wanted to use this time to walk the Thoreau Path in the West End neighborhood that bracketed the hospital complex. I felt better when I went outside and put my face in front of the sun every day. Even better if I burned off some nervous energy in the process. It wouldn't erase any of yesterday's catastrophes but it would help chase away the worst-case scenarios chilling out in the forefront of my mind.
I headed for the stairwell at the far end of the wing, the one no one else used because it dead-ended on the second floor and required a journey past a bunch of offices to reach an actual exit.
Glancing at the notifications on my phone as I descended the stairs, I didn't realize until too late that I wasn't alone.
Sebastian didn't notice me right away, and it was a good thing because I needed a second to fortify myself. He was wearing another set of near-death scrubs and that annoyed me for no good reason. I mean, did he have to be a rain cloud all the time? And again with the forearms. Really. This was becoming flagrant. It was like he wanted me staring.
He probably relished the attention.Look, ladies and gentlemen, look at these arms! They can flip you on your belly and fuck you from behind before you can say yes, please.
We reached the landing at almost the same time and it was hilarious to watch as recognition slackened the permafrost of his scowl.
I had no intention of stopping to chat with him—as if there was anything to chat about.Oh, yes, you're right, you are theonlyperson to give me an orgasm without prolonged and significant attention to my clit. And two of them! So good of you to remind me.
As if Sebastian had exactly that discussion in mind, he reached for the railings on either side of the stairs and trapped me on the landing. I could've retreated up the stairs so I wasn't truly trapped but the gesture made his prerogative plain.
"There you are." He managed to sound exasperated as he said this, as if I'd been avoiding him.
Obviously, that was not the case. I merely left my apartment two hours earlier than usual to take a yoga class in the Back Bay before work and bypassed the attending surgeons' lounge entirely when I arrived at the hospital. No avoidance to be found.
"Here I am." I gestured down the stairs. "There, I am going."
"Wait just a minute." He winced before dragging a glance up from my sneakers to settle on my plain hospital-issued scrub v-neck. "No wordy t-shirt today?"
I shook my head. No t-shirt today because I never went to yoga before work, and I failed to bring the right clothes in my haste to get out the door. "Evidently."
The frown dissolved into his usual scowl, and there was a second where he loomed over me, his thick, roped arms stretched out and his jaw scruffier than ever, where he seemed to be staring at my mouth.
But then he ruined it by speaking.
"Listen, about last night—"
"You don't have to finish that sentence," I said.
"—obviously, it happened and—"
"Really, you don't need to do this," I said.
