I smiled, scribbling a note on his chart, hands moving automatically. “All in a day’s work, sir. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
As I moved to the next bed, my mind tugged back to Missouri, to Landon sliding the puck between the legs of that defenseman and twirling around to finish the goal. I shook my head, losing the grin that formed. Patient care first, daydreaming second. Though I had to admit, even during rounds, those thoughts sneaked in: the curl of his smile, the cocky tilt of his chin, how he made everything—every pass, every play—look effortless.
By the time I made it to lunch, I’d realized two things: first, I’d never be able to unsee Landon topless in that kitchen; second, Rosemary was probably right.
We snagged a quiet corner in the garden to be away from everyone while we trash-talked, trays balanced in our hands like a couple of seasoned pros. Bananas, yogurt, and the special of the day which just so happened to be my ultimate favorite game day food—hot dogs.
“Ferris made an intern cry again,” Rosemary said, pulling the tab off her yogurt. She always went for that one first, while I went straight for the main.
“She’s too dramatic for her own good,” I replied through a mouthful of hot dog. “She’d lecture a paperclip into oblivion if you gave her time. The interns are basically free entertainment for her.”
Rosemary laughed. “Poor things. Makes me happy to be on this side of the line.”
“Hear, hear.” I nudged my hot dog into her tub of yogurt in a kind of weird, savory-sweet salute. “And speaking of poor things— My guy in 4C is allergic to everything, including the hospital sheets.”
“I heard.” She popped a heaped spoon of strawberry yogurt into her mouth, wincing a little at the instant rush of tartness. “I also heard you managed to quiet him down better than anyone.”
I shrugged. “All in a day’s work.”
We laughed, easy and familiar, the kind of laughter that was earned after several shared shifts working side by side.
But then Rosemary’s tone shifted into something more serious, and for a second I was sure she’d bring up Landon again.
“I meant what I said about the special rotation in surgical.”
I didn’t know why her voice was lowered, or why she kept glancing around. It was normal for second-years to put forward an area of special interest to the Mission Valley board. She wasn’t the only one vying for a spot in the operating room. It wasn’t a big deal.
“Just fill out your application then,” I said in a harsh whisper, teasing her.
She pursed her lips. “This isn’t funny. I’ve been asking around, and there are at least seven other nurses going up for the same spot. They’re only choosing three.”
“You’re amazing. They’d be fools not to pick you.”
Rosemary nodded, picking at her hot dog while she considered my words. When she looked back up, her eyes were bright with a new idea.
“You should do it too.”
“What? No,” I scoffed. “Do you honestly want more competition? And besides, I’d never survive being cooped up in the OR for hours on end. I definitely don’t think any surgeon would want to look into my unimpressed face for hours either.”
Before I could even finish my next thought, a voice cut over our table.
“I can think of one surgeon who wouldn’t mind looking at your face at all.”
My eyes snapped up to find James Perot, all dark, slicked back hair and neat beard that made women swoon. He’d appeared out of nowhere, and now he had his determined gaze locked on me.
“I mean,” he continued, “it’s a nice face.”
My brain did a brief, unhelpful lurch, and my cheeks immediately flamed.
6
Landon
The streetlights were doing that half-hearted glow over the sidewalk when I got back from practice, bag slung over one shoulder, muscles humming from the oppressive drills. My phone pinged the second I walked into my apartment building.
Mason: Thought you’re meeting us here?
I sighed and shoved my phone back into my pocket. No offense, but I’d much rather leave him on ‘read’ than subject myself to an intervention from the team. They thought I didn’t notice them whispering in the locker room. Or that I was totally oblivious to—as Grayson liked to call it—friction within the team dynamic.
