Page 70

I turned toward her. “I have a hotel room.”

“Okay.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “I said that, hoping you’d come with me.”

“Matthew, I’m sorry, but I’m tired. I have to study. I have so much going on.” She paused. “I wish you had told me your plans.”

I barked a laugh. “So you could have told me not to come?”

“It’s a bad weekend,” she admitted, her eyes tearing up.

Immediately, I felt awful. I took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I know and I’m sorry. But any time I can see you, I’ll take.”

She smiled, her lips trembling. She rose up on her toes and kissed me, the same way she did the night of our first date. Her lips were warm and soft. I pulled her close and returned her kiss, feeling the same wave of emotion I always did when we were close.

I pulled back and dropped a kiss on her nose. “Come on, Maddy. Let’s get you home and back to the books.”

The walk felt more like us. She pointed out her little coffee shop she liked. The diner that made the “best poached eggs in the city,” the little grocery store she stopped at on occasion.

“We do a big shop once every few weeks. Jill has a car, so we take turns going with her and we stock up at Costco. We all take turns cooking, and on Sundays, we batch cook whenever we can. It really helps.”

“Makes sense.”

She yawned as we turned down her street. In front of her house, I stopped and looked at her. “Please don’t study too late.”

“I won’t,” she fibbed. I knew she’d be at it for hours. I recalled those days in med school.

I bent and kissed her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against my mouth.

“I know,” I replied, refusing to upset her further.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, once I figure out my schedule.”

“Okay. I look forward to it.” I waved my hand. “In you go.”

She headed up the stairs, and I tamped down my disappointment. If she’d asked, I would have come in, sat nearby, and caught up on emails while she worked. Made her tea. Anything to be close to her.

But she didn’t.

And that hurt more than I wanted to admit.

Sleep didn’t come easily—in fact, not at all. I paced the room, watched stupid late-night reruns, and stared at my phone, forcing myself not to send Maddy any messages, while desperately wanting to.

As dawn broke, I fell into a restless sleep, startling awake at the sound of my phone ringing. It was barely past six. Maddy’s name flashed on the screen, and I answered quickly.

“Hey, early bird,” I rasped, my voice sounding as if I had gargled sand.

“Hi, I woke you up.”

“It’s fine. I would rather hear your voice.”

“We’re having breakfast shortly before we all start hitting the books. I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”

“I’d love that.”

“Okay, come whenever. We’re rustling up food in the kitchen.”