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“A patient had explosive diarrhea, and I’m trying to clean up before my next patient,” I say. “They really should disclose the ratio of the days you get shit on versus the days you don’t in medical school.”
“If they did that, there wouldn’t be any pediatricians. Thanks for the reminder about why I’m glad I operate on people’s brains.” Maggie laughs. “We’ll see you tonight. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mags. Text me if you need me to bring anything.”
I step in the shower and groan at the heat on my skin. My muscles relax under the steady stream of water and I sigh, grateful for the brief moment of self-care after six hours of being on my feet. I grab a bar of soap and lather my limbs, cleaning every crevice of my body while trying not to fall asleep standing up.
Ten minutes later with a room full of steam and pruney fingers, I wrap a towel around myself.
“Shit,” I curse, realizing I didn’t bring any clean clothes in with me. I open the door back to my office and shiver at the change in temperature. It’s colder out here, and goosebumps pebble my arms.
“There you are,” someone says, and I scream.
“What the hell, Shawn?” I ask, and I hold my towel tightly in place as I glare across the room.
Shawn Holmes, the youngest head coach in NFL history, current figurehead of the D.C. Titans—the hottest team in the league—and one of my best friends, grins at me from the couch beside my desk.
He’s wearing an outfit that tells me he’s either coming from or going to the stadium. Gray joggers. High top sneakers. A long-sleeved T-shirt with the D.C. Titans logo across his chest and a backwards hat.
He’d live in those clothes, if he could.
“Hey, Lace,” he says.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood. I brought you coffee.” He lifts the cup in his hands, and I spot the logo of my favorite local cafe. My mouth practically waters at the sight of caffeine. “Please tell me you were in the shower alone.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course I was in the shower alone. It’s the middle of the day, and I’m working.”
“Doesn’t mean you have to be alone,” he says, and his grin turns sly and mischievous.
“Gross. I don’t need to know what you do inyouroffice, and I’m never sitting in that chair that overlooks the football field ever again. Which is a shame, because it’s so damn comfortable.”
“Don’t worry, Lace. I don’t kiss and tell.”
My cheeks heat, and I fumble with the stack of clothes I keep in a duffle bag under my desk. I grab two shirts before finding a pair of pants. “Give me two minutes. Let me change,” I say, hurrying back to the bathroom and closing the door.
“Take all the time in the world,” he calls out. “You’re worth the wait.”
“Do you use that line on every girl?”
“You know there aren’t any girls.”
I pull on my clothes and take down my hair, shaking the dark brown waves free. “Remind me why there aren’t any girls?” I ask, and Shawn groans.
“I’m being a Good Samaritan and bringing you coffee. This isn’t supposed to turn into an interrogation about my love life,” he says.
“Non-existent love life,” I say. I open the door and lean against the frame. His eyes soften when he sees me, and he sits up on the couch. “What’s your ulterior motive with the drink?”
“Can’t a guy bring his friend some sustenance, needing nothing in return?” He holds out the cup to me and I walk toward him, gratefully accepting the beverage. “Got a minute to take a breather?”
“Literally a minute. Thank you.” I sit next to him on the couch and drop my head back against the leather. “Today’s been so hectic. I had a nurse call out sick, then someone had to leave early because of a puking emergency at their kid’s school. This pick-me-up is going to get me through the rest of the day.”
“Do you need any help? I’m free this afternoon,” he says.
“Are you qualified to administer shots to children? Immunizations,notalcohol. Can you also help a hospital that’s suffering from a lack of funding? Because we’re hurting as of late.”
Shawn chuckles, a deep, rumbly sound that makes my insides squirm. “I can type on a computer, believe it or not. If you need another body behind the front desk, I’m your guy.”
