Page 55 of Clinically Awkward

“Nobody.”

“Liar.”

I opened my mouth to respond, then stopped. Because walking through the clinic doors, looking slightly disheveled and avoiding eye contact with literally everyone, was Vivian.

My brain short-circuited. She was wearing scrubs. The dark green ones that somehow made her eyes look even more incredible, and her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. She had her bag slung over one shoulder and a to-go coffee cup in her hand, and she looked tired.

And beautiful.

And like she was actively trying to pretend I didn’t exist.

Our eyes met for exactly half a second before she looked away, her cheeks flushing pink, and headed straight for the nurses’ station without so much as a hello.

What the hell?

“Quinton?” Fitz was staring at me. “You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re staring at Vivian.”

“I’m not⁠—”

“You’re absolutely staring at Vivian.”

I forced myself to look away. “I was just—she looked—I was making sure she was okay.”

“Why wouldn’t she be okay?”

“I don’t know. She just looked tired.”

“She always looks tired. She works with us. OH MY GOD!” Fitz gasped, eyes wide.

Oh no.

Oh no! I watched in horror as the realization dawned across Fitz’s face like the goddamn sunrise—slow, inevitable, and absolutely catastrophic for me. “You didn’t,” he breathed.

“I have no idea what you’re⁠—”

“YOU SHAGGED⁠—”

I lunged. I actually lunged across the hallway and clamped my hand over Fitz’s mouth, practically tackling him as he tried to dodge me. He was laughing. The bastard was laughing. His eyes danced with absolute delight as I wrestled him toward the nearest conference room. “Shut up,” I hissed. “Shut up, shut up, shut UP!”

“MMPH MMMPH!” Fitz’s muffled shouts were way too gleeful for someone being manhandled as I shoved him through the conference room door and slammed it behind us, my hand still firmly planted over his mouth. “If you say one word. ONE WORD! I will tell Winnie about the thing with her stapler.”

Fitz’s eyes widened. Then narrowed right before he bit my hand.

“OW! You British bastard!”

I yanked my hand back, and Fitz immediately exploded with laughter, doubling over and clutching his stomach. “Oh my GOD!” he wheezed. “Oh my God, you actually did it! You shagged Julien’s sister!”

“I didn’t—we didn’t—it’s not⁠—”

“Your face!” Fitz was practically crying now. “Your face right now is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen! You look like you’re about to have a panic attack!”

“I’m not having a panic attack.”

“You’re absolutely having a panic attack.”