Carter stood and stretched out a little before he leaned against the counter, the sleeves of his scrub top pushed up to the elbows. He looked at home here.
“It’s not a slight,” he told me gently. “Maddox handing you over, I mean. In fact, consider it a compliment.”
Shit, I must have been too transparent. But then, it would be normal to seem a little hurt, right? As if I’d been pawned off on someone else.
“A compliment?” I asked.
“The reason he did it is because, in his words, you’re hard to evaluate right now.” Carter let it sit for a beat, a smile playing around his mouth. “Said he’s at risk of seeing you through rose-colored glasses after your blackout performance.”
It felt like a warm bath. “He really said that?”
“Yeah. That’s not easy to earn from a guy like Maddox—he’s not easy to impress.”
“Thanks.” I cleared my throat. “That’s… I’m flattered.”
Carter gave me a long look, then sat down on the other end of the couch, facing me. “Great. Now that that’s settled and we established you’re with me for all the right reasons…”
“Like so that you can call me minion?”
His mouth curved up. He seemed to do that a lot—smile. God, if only I could develop a fun, simple crush on him instead of this…thisthingthat was Jesse and me, burning bright behind my ribs.
“Among other things, yep. Now.” Carter set his elbows on his thighs. “First things first. I’d like to drop last names—there’s research that says it’s better for open communication. If you’re comfortable with that?”
“Of course, yeah.” I nodded. “I’m Finn.”
“Tay,” Carter—Taysaid. “So, this’ll be a bit of a learning curve for both of us, all right? I want this to be an open loop. If I mess something up, you tell me. I’ll do the same. Deal?”
He made it sound so easy—not just the work, but everything. Like the invisible barriers between our respective roles barely even mattered.If only.
“Deal,” I said, even though I didn’t exactly see myself handing him a list of complaints.
“Good. Anything you need, you come to me. Also…” He shot me a little grin. “Here’s your first task—each day, I want you to give me one thing you learned.But. Make it interesting. Something unexpected. Don’t just give me textbook knowledge.”
It startled another laugh out of me. “Like what? That the coffee machine in the break room might have been a torture device in a previous life?”
“No, that’s just common sense.” He chuckled. “Whatever you want. Dealer’s choice.”
Something inside me clicked halfway back into place. It was different from the carefully measured, necessary professional distance Jesse and I had tried for, at least until it collapsed so spectacularly—but it wasn’t worse than that. In fact, it was simpler, no complicated history that made every public interaction a potential minefield.
Maybe Jesse had been right to push this change.
“Then I’ll do my very best,” I said, and Tay’s expression shifted into something kind and understanding.
“I know you will. Let’s just make sure you don’t run yourself into the ground while you’re at it.”
“Thank you.” I inhaled and managed a smile that felt real, even with my head still a little heavy.
I’d be fine. This was not an exile.
Tay was a good teacher. He didn’t treat me like an idiot, but he also didn’t speak in shorthand and abbreviations the way Dr. Novak sometimes did, in sentences that only loosely resembled English, and the best I could hope for was catching at least the gist of what she said.
So why, then, did it feel like there was water sloshing through my brain three hours into my first shift with him? Must be weekend dregs latching onto the ends of my thoughts, the extra weight turning them sluggish.
I blinked a couple of times, then shook my head to clear the fog. It mostly worked.
“Want to grab the printouts for 6B?” Tay glanced up from the chart he was reviewing. “They hadn’t updated on the system last I checked, but there’s a fresh set at the nurses’ station.”
“On it,” I said with what I hoped was a normal, totally-not-tired smile. “Be right back.”
