Jay’s smile twitched into something a little more amused as he took me in.
“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “I did say you could wear whatever scrubs you wanted, but… maybe I should’ve prefaced that meant scrub pants and a scrub top.”
I shot him a glare. “Very funny.”
He gestured to the muffin in my hand. “Also, no need to worry about the muffin. I won’t be drug-testing you today.”
The muffin immediately brought to mind the text he sent last night around midnight. A little addicting, he’d said. What was that supposed to mean? He hadn’t elaborated, and I wondered if he regretted saying it, and that’s why he’d quickly changed the subject.
I shook my head, a reluctant laugh slipping out. “You’re ridiculous.”
“So I’ve been told,” he said easily. “Anyway, since we live so close, I thought maybe we could carpool? Save on gas and all that.”
Carpool.Great. Refuse, and I’d look like I hated the planet.
“Did you know I was gonna bail?” I blurted, setting my muffin and coffee down long enough to tug my scrub top back over my head.
“Should I have?”
I exhaled, half-laughing, half-groaning. “Probably.”
“I may have had an inkling you might try to run,” Jay said, fighting a smirk.
I slid past him through the doorway, clutching the muffin and coffee he’d gifted me. “Well, I was just about to lock the door when you showed up,” I muttered, trying not to sound defensive.
When I reached his truck and tugged the handle, it didn’t budge. Then he was suddenly behind me, reaching around to unlock it, and for one disorienting second, my brain stopped working.
His arm brushed mine, and I breathed in the scent of him again—faint firewood and pine trees mixed with the crisp scent of clean mountain air. I blinked hard, forcing myself to stop lingering on his smell, and ducked into the passenger seat before I could embarrass myself further.
Jay opened his own door and climbed in, his grin doing that maddening half-curve thing. “Good thing I followed my gut, then,” he said, clicking his seatbelt.
As soon as he started the car, music began playing through the speakers. The lyrics were in Spanish, and the dashboard screen displayed the band name "LAGOS". The little keychain on his rearview mirror jangled as he backed out of my bumpy gravel driveway. It was a mini ball of yarn hanging from a thin gold chain. I hadn’t noticed it last night because it had been too dark then, and I’d still been in shock from the bear incident.
“So… is that, like, an aesthetic, or are you really in a knitting club?” I gestured to the keychain.
Jay’s smile widened. “You overheard that at the store, huh?”
“Maybe,” I said, taking a bite of my muffin to hide my smile.
He chuckled. “It’s true. I knit with a few ladies at thesenior home in town. But I have to say—it’s actually pretty intense.”
I stifled a snort. “Right. Because nothing says ‘hardcore’ like a guy who knits.”
“Exactly,” he said with mock intensity. “We’re a dangerous group. Last week, we used glitter yarn.”
I couldn’t hold back my laugh this time.
“You’ll appreciate it when I start making custom beanies for the staff,” he assured me.
“Do they come with dental-floss tassels?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Now that’s actually a good idea.”
Still smiling, I stared out the window, watching the morning sun flicker through the trees. After a few minutes, though, my smile faded, and that familiar weight of anxiety started to bloom in my stomach again.
“So,” Jay said after a moment, “you weren’t exactly excited for your first day?”
“Not exactly.” I pressed my lips together.
