They all share bewildered looks. “That’s what Skylar thought,” Erica continues. “She didn’t believe his intentions were honorable, and she pushed him off for more than half a year, but he wore her down. They started dating and got serious quickly. They were adorable as a couple. Always together and smiling. Then six weeks ago, out of nowhere, Skylar reportedly broke up with him and moved out.”
I blink, a little taken aback by that.
“No one knows why or what happened, and neither of them talked about it,” Marion explains. “This was the first time he’s mentioned it, though we all know he puts notes in her locker and makes it so his patients are her patients.”
Interesting. And he brought her up to me, so either he’s threatened by me or thinks I have insider information that I was willing to share.
“Clearly he’s not over her,” Marion says with a light giggle in her voice.
“Or he’s still after the money and fame,” Erica states. “I mean, no offense to Skylar. I think she’s amazing, but they don’t quite… match up, if you know what I mean.”
My jaw clenches. “No. I don’t know what you mean.”
She instantly backtracks at my harsh tone. “Nothing. Just that, I don’t know. Never mind. That came out wrong.”
Yeah. I bet it fucking did. How does anyone look at Skylar and not see what I see? I don’t get it. But women are different, Iguess. Josh clearly sees more. Or he saw a broken-down woman who would build up his ego and worship him.
“All I’m saying is that it doesn’t seem like he’s ready to give up,” she finishes.
No. It doesn’t seem like he is, and they’re feeding on it. Drama makes the hospital go round.
But if I didn’t like him before, I like him even less now. And I sure as hell don’t want him anywhere near Skylar.
I leave the OR to speak to the parents despite Josh doing it and observe from slightly across the MSICU as Skylar tends to him and his parents. Pediatrics isn’t just about the child you’re treating. It’s about the parents, too, and Skylar seems to get that. She’s in the room as much as she’s out of it, laughing and chatting and answering questions.
So, here’s my dilemma. My moral quandary, I guess you could say.
I’m severely attracted to my best friend’s little sister.
She’s everything I was never interested in until I kissed her, and now she’s everything I don’t know how to escape.
I want to see her in a towel. In an oversized T-shirt. In only my hands. In nothing at all. I want to hear her chatting with my daughter like they’re besties, and I want to open bathroom doors that should be locked and find her soaking wet and biting my head off. I want her fiery and angry and tender and sweet. I want her as the nurse for all of my patients, and I want her nowhere near any of Josh’s or even him.
But I can’t have her like that. Not like any of that.
So, what do I do? I’m honestly not sure. I’ve known loneliness for so long it’s become the only color I wear. I’m tired of it. This is my fresh start, and the woman who I can’t evict from my thoughts is the one I need to evict from my life.
11
ASTON
“How are things at the hospital with your new position there?” Dr. Tudor, Zoey’s new therapist, asks in the serious yet soft way she has when she asks questions. She wanted a one-on-one with me after her second meeting with Zoey yesterday, though we’ve talked on the phone several times already. I lean forward, my elbows dig into my thighs, and my hands rub together. I hate answering personal questions.
“It’s good. Challenging. The cases are tough, and I like the overall flow and system they have going.” My hands rub a little harder. “I work with Skylar Davenport, who is Micha’s younger sister.”
“The woman temporarily living in your new home?”
I nod, my gaze on the foot of her chair. “Yes.”
“Is she part of what’s making your new role challenging?”
I nearly laugh at that, but as it is, I don’t even allow a smile to escape. Still, I answer honestly. “Partially, yes. We… clash. I don’t know. Maybe hot and cold is a better description.”
“In what way?”
I glance up, hating how she’s scribbling down notes on me.A cold sweat breaks out across the back of my neck as I think back to when social services came and interviewed me about what kind of parent I was with Zoey. What kind of person I was. And if I were fit to care for my child.
“We just butt heads and don’t get along well.”
