Tay weighed me for a second, then seemed to decide I hadn’t intended to imply he’d fucked his supervisor. Well, one of us had. “Thought you might be,” he said, relaxing a little. “But my gaydar is hit or miss.”
“No, yeah. Definitely a hit, in this case.” Awkward, Jesus. If I kept it up, he’d start wondering if I had a crush on him.
“Nice to get it right for once.” He leaned his shoulder against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles. “And yeah, we did—Dean and I. Spring last year. He wasn’t my primary attending or anything, so limited interactions, you know? I just followed him on a few rounds, thought he was intimidating and kinda hot. Didn’t talk to him again until a mutual friend brought us back together.”
“And then he suddenly wasn’t so intimidating?” I asked.
“Oh, he was.” Tay smiled at some kind of private joke. “But also much…kinder.” A small laugh. “Which, you know. He’d totally object to being called that.”
The affection in his voice was thick, obvious, and I was happy for him, really—he deserved good things. It just… God. It sucked how Tay had made it a point to casually mention that Dr. Hollis hadn’t been his supervisor, how it drove home that yes, it mattered.
“You sound happy.” I smiled against the swish of dizziness. “It’s, you know. It’s nice. Feels rare to see people making it work with…well,work. Like, our work. Shifts and all. Long hours.”
“Yeah.” Something thoughtful crossed Tay’s face, watching me for a beat too long. Then he smiled back. “Takes planning and organization. Understanding that sometimes, even just a quick chat before one’s off for a shift and the other falls into bed—it’s worth it.”
“Might be easier if it’s someone who’s, you know—also a doctor.” I needed to stop talking. Like, yesterday. Before I gave away something I couldn’t take back. “Anyway, what’syourinteresting thing?”
Tay considered it for a moment. “Must be that HR reminder about hospital dating policies that went to everyone just half an hour ago. Hard not to take it personally.”
“There was?” I asked.
“Yeah.” His lips twitched up at the corners. “Check your emails. No naming names, just something generic about power dynamics and mandatory conflict of interest disclosure.”
The words swam a little in my brain, foggy around the edges.Conflict of interest. Power dynamics.“Right.”
“You okay?” Tay asked, and honestly, I was getting a little tired of that question. Even if they all meant well—I could handle myself. I wasn’t going to be the intern who needed a nap and a juice box to last through the day.
“I’m fine,” I said, perhaps a shade harsher than I’d meant to, headache throbbing like the steady beat of a drum.
Another one of those searching looks, then he nodded. “All right. Then just…keep doing what you’re doing.”
“Paperwork?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said brightly. “That.”
“You’re secretly smug that you can delegate some of it to me, right?”
“We’ve all paid our dues.” He rapped his knuckles against the wall before he pushed off, then stopped to meet my eyes. “It’s been a good start, right? You’d tell me if something wasn’t working for you?”
I’d heard rumors before coming here—about a cutthroat environment and sink-or-swim expectations. Maybe it was pediatric surgery or maybe I’d been lucky, but it sure wasn’t my experience.
“It’s been a great start,” I told him. “Seriously.”
“Good.” He grinned, repeated it. “Good. See you on Monday, Finn.”
“See you, Tay,” I echoed.
As soon as he was gone, I sat down, hard. Reality felt a little hazy, tilting like the slow spin of a globe. Deep breath, the taste of metal sharp on my tongue.
Okay. Back at it.
FOURTEEN
JESSE
I should have been done two hours ago—off the clock, out the door. Too bad reality hadn’t received the memo.
Past nine, the hospital was thinning to its bones, down to a low hum of lights and cleaning crews shuffling about. I’d peeled out of scrubs an hour ago, bag slung over my shoulder and coat draped over my arm for one last lap through the pediatric surgery wing. Just habit. Professional diligence. Not at all to catch a glimpse of Finn.
