I try to concentrate on the road.
“I took a chance and listened to my gut. It told me you take your coffee with cream and two sugars, but real sugar, not that fake crap.”
“Xander! You remembered! That’s great!”
He throws his arm in the air for a victory pump. “There’s hope for me yet.”
“There’s always hope. I learned that as a kid.” I focus on the road.
“You mean because of the orphanage?” Xander says quietly.
I jerk my head at him. “You remember that?”
“No. I read it in our text messages.”
My heart falls in disappointment. “Thanks for the coffee,” I say quickly, not wanting to talk anymore about my childhood.
Xander blessedly changes the subject. “So, how often do you get to pick the music in the OR?”
I glance over at him. “Not a fan of Club Hip Hop Radio?”
He laughs. “I am. I was hoping we could listen to it again today, or something else besides Dr. Croy’s fifties channel. The last week, before you were back, I thought I would go crazy.”
Rolling my eyes, I tell him, “One week is nothing. I had to endure two years before I won a bet, and now he has to play rock, paper, scissors with me.”
Xander groans. “I would transfer units if I had to endure two years.”
“It was torture for sure.”
“So, what was the bet?”
“That green pus instead of yellow would come out of the patient’s knee.”
Xander laughs. “That’s awesome.”
“Yep, it was,” I agree. “He also had to buy me blueberry muffins from the lobby every day for a month.”
“Blueberry muffins?”
“Yep. They make these mini ones, and they’re beyond delicious.”
“Well, I hope you win rock, paper, scissors today.”
“I hope so, too.”
“Did you get any sleep?” Xander asks.
“A little. You?”
“Same.”
“Did you dream about me?” I tease, then realize what I said. “Shit. I’m sorry.” Heat blazes across my face.
“As a matter of fact, I did.”
My face flushes further.
“At least you weren’t faceless this time.”
