Then, finally, she nodded. “That would be lovely.”
The weight in Brooks’s shoulders loosened just slightly, his tense posture easing as the hard set of his jaw softened by a fraction.
I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t look at him. I didn’t dare. I never met his mom before, despite him asking me to. I always found an excuse, and now here I was, helping her.
I just offered a quick, small smile, then turned on my heels and strode toward the emergency room wing.
The hustle of the ER was a stark contrast to the moment I’d just left—doctors moving swiftly, nurses following orders, the murmur of patients mixing with the rhythmic beeping of monitors.
I reached the triage nurse and explained the situation quickly, then within seconds, a nurse wheeled a chair toward me.
“Here you go,” she said, eyeing my scrubs curiously. “You a student?”
I nodded, gripping the handles of the wheelchair. “Yeah, I just finished todays clinicals.”
“Well, you handled that like a pro.”
Something in my chest warmed, but I didn’t let myself dwell on it.
“Thanks,” I said instead, already turning back toward the hallway, pushing faster than necessary—not because I was in a hurry, but because I needed something to do with my hands, something to focus on that wasn’t Brooks Madsen.
When I rounded the corner, I found them exactly where I left them.
Brooks was still standing close to his mom, one hand on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing small, absentminded circles against the fabric of her cardigan.
It was an instinctive touch, one that spoke of years of being a protector, of someone who had spent so much of his life looking out for others.
And, damn it, something about that unraveled me a little.
I cleared my throat. “Here we are.”
His mom smiled gratefully, and Brooks turned, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity I wasn’t ready for.
And just like that, the air between us shifted.
I felt it in the way his gaze lingered, in the way his lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something but was holding it back. I focused on the task at hand, ignoring the way my heart knocked against my ribs, and positioned the chair in front of his mom.
“Let’s get you sitting,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady.
Brooks watched me too closely, his brows pulling together, but he didn’t say a word.
I knelt beside his mom again, helping guide her into the chair, keeping my touch careful and precise.
She exhaled a soft sigh of relief once she was settled, her smile genuine. “Thank you, dear.”
“Of course.” I squeezed the armrest gently, offering her one last reassuring touch before stepping back.
But Brooks?
Brooks didn’t move.
His gaze stayed locked on me, his expression unreadable, his lips pressed into a line.
And I had a feeling that whatever had been brewing in his mind, whatever words he hadn’t said yet, I wouldn’t be able to avoid them for much longer.
“Thank you,” he said to me before repeating it to his mom. She smiled with a bit of sadness and relaxed. I started wheeling her down the hall, and Brooks matched pace with me. “Are you interning here or…working?”
“I’m doing my clinicals here.”
