“I’m assuming it went all right?”
“You would have heard if it didn’t.” Jordan was goading me, I was sure of it. But in any normal circumstance, when it came to a woman other than Maya, I would make a comment. If I didn’t now, my brother would find it suspicious. “By the way, you never fucking told me Maya’s best friend is such a smokeshow.” I set my arms on top of my desk.
He smiled. “That was on purpose.”
“Why?”
“Because Maya would come at you with knives if you ever hurt Emily, and you have the kind of reputation that would make her believe you’d try to sleep with Emily.” He licked his lips. “You and women don’t exactly have the best track record, brother.”
He was preaching the truth, but I still responded, “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, before I found my girl, you and I were the same. Different chicks every weekend—or even sometimes during the week. Forever bachelors, not giving a fuck about anyone’s feelings.” He pulled at the sleeves of his jacket. “Maya changed me. You, well ... you’re still rocking the single life.”
“So you didn’t tell me Emily was hot in fear that I would try to fuck her? That’s deep.”
His smile got even larger. “Did you?”
I blew out a mouthful of air. “Go to hell.”
He laughed and got up from his chair. As he was heading for the door, he looked at me over his shoulder. “Remember, Maya’s a nurse and trained on the human body. If anyone knows how to physically torture you in the worst possible way, it’s her.”
“She can keep her knives in the kitchen.”
He laughed once more before he walked out.
Chapter Fifteen
Emily
“Bettie’s last week here,” Maya said as she approached me in the hallway of the rehab center where I was parked behind the portable computer station, inputting the info for each of my patients’ charts. “Sob.”
“Ugh. Girl, I know. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy she gets to go home. I’m sure she’s dying for some decent food and a bed much larger than the twin she has here, and her bougie bedding and pillows. But selfishly, I’m really going to miss her.”
A braid hung over my shoulder, and Maya pulled at the elastic and reworked each weave to tighten them. “She asked me first thing this morning if we’d finalized the plans for our night out together.”
I snorted. “Of course she did. The woman is a planner.” I put my hands on my hips. “What did you say to her?”
“She mentioned dinner and a hockey game. I told her that sounded perfect. I didn’t think you’d mind.” Every time Maya moved her hands through my hair, I got a strong whiff of antibacterial gel, our signature scent while we were at work.
“I don’t mind at all. I love both ideas.”
She finished the braid and showed me her phone. There was a text from Bettie with a screenshot of the Bears’ schedule. “While we were talking about the plans—or, her plans, I should say—she sentme this and told me to talk with you about which game would work best for us.”
“That lady.” I shook my head. “I can only hope to be as sharp as her at eighty-four.”
“Ditto.” She turned the screen toward her. “I’m forwarding you her text. Check out the games and pick a night you’re off. I don’t care if it’s a weekend or a weekday. I’m sure she doesn’t either. Although, knowing her, her social calendar is probably busier than ours.”
There was a vibration in my pocket that I assumed was Maya’s text. I took out my phone and saw her notification on the screen, but that wasn’t the only one that had come in. There was one from Instagram, too, a message request from an account I didn’t follow with a name that made it impossibly difficult not to smile.
Still holding my phone, I slowly glanced at her. “I’ll check my schedule during lunch, and I’ll let you know.”
She set her elbow on the corner of the computer stand. “What are you doing for lunch?”
I shrugged. “You know, I even went grocery shopping. Who forgets to pack something to eat when they have food in the fridge?”
Someone whose brain is solely focused on Gavin.
That was who.
