Upon seeing me pull up, Macey came running toward me, dressed in a cute pair of shorts, hiking boots, and an outdoorsy vest. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she was grinning, nearly bubbling over with excitement.
“Are you ready to go zip-lining?”
I gave her a weak smile and gestured to my scrubs. “Um, so… I totally forgot.”
“Oh gosh, I knew I should’ve texted in the chat,” Macey said, putting her hands over her mouth and letting out a laugh. “Oof. We can fix this. Don’t worry. Come on.”
Macey tugged me over to the group that was gathering outside the van. Everyone was in outdoor clothes except for me.
“Hey, Hope,” Tyler greeted me with a big smile, and I did my best to smile back.
“Hey, Ty.”
“So, Hope forgot about our office outing,” Macey blurted out to everyone, and I barely contained my cringe. “Does anyone have a pair of clothes she can borrow?”
My entire face heated.
“I have some sweatpants in my trunk!” Erica said.
“Thank you, Erica,” Macey said, beaming and nudging me. “See? We got this.”
“You can borrow my shirt,” Jay said as he came around the front of the van from behind us. “I have one in the back.”
I couldn’t help but notice how ridiculously gorgeous he looked that morning, in a pair of olive-green sweatpants and a thin, long-sleeved black shirt, topped off with a matching black beanie. I was so used to seeing him in scrubs that the real clothes really threw me.
“Oh, thanks,” I said, flushing even deeper.
Erica retrieved her sweatpants from her car and handed them to me. I then followed Jay to the back of the van.
“I’m sorry, I totally spaced,” I said more quietly now that it was just the two of us. The group was chatting andlaughing by the office's front doors, not really paying attention to us.
“I was going to remind you this morning, but you didn’t come down for a while.” He glanced at me, his navy eyes seeming to see right through me. I’d purposely avoided him so he wouldn’t ask to drive together, and I flushed even deeper. He totally knew I was avoiding him.
“Sorry, I woke up late.”
He found his shirt and handed it to me, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
“This should work,” he said. “And don’t worry—I’ll turn around this time.”
I blinked. “This time?”
A low laugh rumbled out of him as he pivoted to face the parking lot.
“Well, I’ve technically seen you in a sports bra before, remember?”
He was talking about the time I answered the door after having a panic attack. “That was not on purpose—I was having a—ugh, never mind.”
He lifted his hands in mock surrender but didn’t look back. “Don’t worry. I’ve been gentlemanly enough to pretend it never happened.”
I ducked into the van, my cheeks heating, and tugged the sliding door mostly closed.
“Okay, well—pretend harder.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I changed quickly, pulling the borrowed shirt over my head. It was soft and oversized, smelling like his detergent, with a bit of pine and that faint fireplace smell again.
“You can turn around now,” I said.
