“They have office hours, pidge. The only thing Ihaveto go to this week is labs. You’re welcome to come with. You could read in the lobby, catch up with our classmates, or talk to my guidance counselor.” He tried to ‘airplane’ me a bite of breakfast.
But some of this was too hard to swallow.
I eased his hand down. “I’m not ready to go back.”
His intense gaze flitted across my face. “Okay. Do you want to wait at home for me?”
That big house would feel so empty without him. Especially knowing what he was doing. And I’d work myself into a frenzy about sex by the time he came back. After all, half the people in med school would give it to him, and they had a real future ahead of them. They weren’t rummaging through five-dollar thong bins wondering which end went where.
Not that he’d pressure me about it. But my nerves were already fried from the morning fight with my fam.
I drew his free hand to my chest and clasped his fingers with mine. “Why don’t I sleep at Kat’s tonight?”
“What? Why?” He frowned and started to pull away, but I tightened my grip.
“We can spend the rest of the week together,” I said, smothering my voice with more reassurance than lube on a scope. “And a full day before your class. I just need one night to arrange stuff with my sis, and maybe clean up the kitchen. Is that okay?”
He knitted his brows, but nodded.
“Tomorrow, then,” he said, and it sounded like a promise.
I traced the lines of his palm, trying to remember what Kat had told me about reading them. The life line. The heart line. The head line. It was all so unscientific. But they felt nice.
These hands would save lives.
In some ways, it already felt like he’d saved mine: a lifeline amid the chaos.
I wanted to be close to him. Closer, soon. But I wanted to get deeper into his brain before we got too far in each other’s pants.
We cuddled into one chair for breakfast and fed each other bites of pancake. I leaned into his chest and eyed the hearts of various anatomical correctness on the plate. “Hey, Angel? What made you want to become a doctor?”
“Money,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. Typical ego.
“What? It’s true,” he said, lifting his leg to send me off-balance.
I gripped his knee and giggled. “No, it isn’t. Pharmacists are where the big bucks are at.”
“Hmm, thanks for the information. Maybe I should change my major,” he said sarcastically.
“Seriously. How did you know that was what you wanted to do?” I steered my fork toward his mouth in a roundabout manner. “It takes a lot of planning and effort to get into, let alone graduate, those programs.” I would know.
He sighed, staring flatly at the chunk of fruit-flesh. “I wanted to be able to take care of myself.”
Because no one else had?
I held my breath, fighting the urge to fawn over him.
‘Don’t pity me, pidge,’he’d said at the bar. And I didn’t pity him. I cared for him. I hoped he had a wonderful life. I wanted to be part of it.
“You know, doctors aren’t known for being good patients. But I think you’re setting yourself up for success beyond your finances,” I said, caressing his chin.
Angel smirked. “I think so. At least the on-call room would have somewhere we can sleep.” He eased the pancakes off with his tongue first and held me closer as he sucked the rest off the fork.
Uncertainty wriggled inside me. Naps were great.Hewas great. But what about home? What about family? Were cute mornings and sex going to sustain this relationship when neither of us had any sleep?
“You didn’t…wish your life had more meaning?” I asked.
