“Okay,” I said. “First off, what a dick. Good riddance. Secondly…” I shouldn’t. But—fuck it. “Anything sloppy must’ve been him, not you. I can personally attest to that.”
No, I shouldn’t have. But the surprised, pleased tilt to Finn’s mouth made it worth it. “Yeah?”
“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” I told him.
“See, but that’s kind of what I was doing—that night.” He raised one hand, fingers spread. “New city, a little lonely, maybe. And I wanted proof I wasn’t as boring as he thought. You were…” He paused, flush decidedly more pronounced now. “Evidence.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Because, yeah: recently dumped, liquid self-esteem, taking an accidental misunderstanding just a shade too far. Achingly human.
“I didn’tmeanto trick you,” he pushed on. “Not as such. I almost told you a few times, but you were just…really hot. And I thought you might leave, so I thought, you know, what’s the harm, I’ll just tell you after and we’ll laugh about it.” He shook his head, the corners of his lips lifting into a wry smile that hinted at dimples. “Only then we fell asleep. And when I woke up, you were gone, and there was money on the nightstand. I panicked. Figured texting would make it worse, so I didn’t.”
Right. God, how fuckingabsurd.
“Because you didn’t think you’d see me again.” I chuckled, pretending it didn’t hurt my ego just the tiniest bit, and waved a lazy hand at the skyline. “Except, surprise. New York: eight million people and still a village.”
A laugh slipped out of him, mostly humor with a side of uncertainty. Sunlight cut across his face, and I tracked a bead of sweat that trailed down the side of his neck—then remembered why I shouldn’t. I looked away.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a beat, softer now. “For…lying, I guess. This is awkward. And I know it puts you in a shitty spot.”
It did, kind of. Teaching surgery boot camp—literally scoring the incoming surgery residents—was meant to bolster my attending application come winter. Fucking one of said residents would do the opposite.
“Not just me,” I said. Which I was sure had already occurred to him if the way he held himself was any indication. “Doubt you’d want a reputation for…that.” How had he put it that night, all teasing smile? If you can’t say it, you probably shouldn’t do it—something along those lines. “For hooking up with fellows in the program.”
“Yeah. Really not the kind of reputation I want.” He ducked his head. “So what do we do?”
I took him in—cheeks flushed and hair curling even more with the heat, eyes a forget-me-not shade of blue under the afternoon sun’s stark glare. He seemed misplaced here on this tarred roof, among vent pipes, with traffic humming far below. If any place could keep a secret, this was it.
“We erase it,” I said. “It was just one night. No witnesses, no paper trail—other than my note and a hundred bucks, I guess.”
“I’ll give it back.”
It made sense. Probably. But somehow, it didn’t sit right with me—as if wanting it back would make thingsmoretransactional,reinforce some imbalance between us and turn the night into a sordid mistake rather than a choice I’d made.
“Keep it,” I said.
Finn’s eyes flicked up to me, surprise flashing across his face. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. It’s… I didn’t regret you when I woke up that morning. So, I don’t know. It’s the past, right? Let’s call it a relocation grant and move along. Clean slate.” Did that make sense outside my head? I wasn’t sure, but the way Finn watched me suggested he got it, maybe.
“Thank you,” he said, voice low. I didn’t think he meant the money.
A brief stretch of silence shimmered between us. I drew a slow, controlled breath, reaching for the kind of calm I knew from the OR, and broke the moment.
“Okay,” I said. “Ground rules. We keep our distance where we can—no solo mentoring, and I’ll stay out of evaluations where possible. I won’t sabotage you, but I won’t favor you either.”
He straightened, shoulders squaring just enough for me to notice. “Fair.”
Yeah. But God, did I really think I could be neutral when it came to him? I’d have to try my damned hardest—because otherwise, chances were that I’d judge him too harshly in my effort to overcorrect any bias, and that wasn’t right either. Good thing the first part of the end-of-week competition was scored blind.
“Secondly.” I cleared my throat, then wished I hadn’t. “No repeats. Obviously.”
“Obviously, yeah.” He nodded quickly, a little rushed and eager. No skin off my back, nope.
“And,” I continued, “we don’t tell anyone. HR would have a field day with this, even if it was…unplanned. And crazy odds.Don’t think either of us wants to be a headline in the next compliance slideshow, though.”
He twisted his mouth into an apprehensive grin. “Definitely not on my to-do list, no. So, yeah. Mutual silence. Omertà.”
I snorted, a breathy sound that eased the tension. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to full mafia protocol. No need for code names or burner phones. Just, you know. Professional distance.”
