I stared at him, his dark-of-night eyes wide and wild, his broad chest heaving with his breath. “Because you run headfirst into challenges. The harder, the better. Isn’t that how it goes?”
“That is not what you are and you damn well know it, Whitney.”
“Then tell me why I’m wrong,” I said.
He held up his hands. “You’ve had a really rough night, honey. Let’s just?—”
“Why do you want this? Answer me that, Henry. One reason to believe I’m not your newest obstacle course. That’s all I’m asking.”
He dropped his gaze to the stairs and his shoulders sagged. “You know how I feel about you.”
“Do I? Because it sounds to me like I’m telling you that I need some reassurance, some proof, and instead of giving me any of that, you’re saying I should simply know your feelings. What is it you want me to know, Henry?”
He blinked at me. Silence stretched between us until it pulled at the seams. Eventually, he said, “I—I don’t know.”
We went on staring at each other. Brie and Mason’s muffled voices filtered through the wall. The building creaked and hummed. City noises rose around us.
Then my phone rang. I knew right away it was the hospital. My brain shifted into autopilot while I took the call, my gaze never breaking from Henry’s.
I’d pushed because I believed he’d give me an answer. Never did I imagine he’d turn up empty. This was Henry, the guy who had a solution for everything. The person who made me promise over and over to let him get us through the tough spots. The one who’d figured out my coffee order and sneaked cupcakes into my office.
And he didn’t know why he wanted a relationship with me.
When the call ended, I said, “I have a heart coming in. I need to go.”
Henry zipped up his jacket. “I’ll go with you.”
“No. You’re not my resident anymore and, in case you weren’t aware, heart transplants are serious business.” I pointed to my door. “Take Mason home and remind him that he has an entire divorce to get through. Oh, and have a talk with him about condoms while you’re at it.”
“Whitney, stop. You have at least an hour before you need to go anywhere and we are not finished here.”
“Yes, we are.” He reached for my wrist, but I shook him off and started down the stairs. “Don’t call me until you figure out why you want to.”
It was still snowing when I stepped outside. Tiny flakes hit my cheeks, burning up on impact. When I arrived at the hospital, it didn’t look like I’d been crying. Just out in the cold.
Twenty-Five
Henry
General Surgery Rotation:
Day 5, Week 2
“You’re scaring me.”
I cut a glance at my best friend as he walked down Myrtle Street toward my apartment. It was dark between the streetlights, the old cobblestone sidewalks slick with a dusting of fine, icy snow. Clouds pressed down into the city like they were trying to touch the ground and I had no idea what the hell had happened in the past hour. “You should be scared.”
“I can admit that mistakes were made,” he said with a laugh. “But I think you’re blowing it out of proportion. It’s not like you flopped around naked in front of a bunch of people. I really do think I messed up a nut. It feels weird.”
I pointed to the right. “ER’s that direction.”
“Come on, Hazlette.” He smacked my shoulder, but I kept my head down. “What’s the point of being a doctor if you can’t tell me if I’m gonna lose a ball? I don’t think I have the personality to be the guy with one ball.”
There was no way in hell I could have this conversation right now. Everything inside me wanted to go to the hospital and wait outside Whit’s OR. I wouldn’t even piss her off by parking myself in the gallery. I’d just wait for her in the hall and then—well, fuck, I didn’t know what I’d do. But I had to do something.
Whit thought she was a challenge of mine. She didn’t even know the half of it. Yeah, she was an obstacle through and through. Maximum difficulty. Triple black diamond. She wasthechallenge.
And somehow that was a problem.
