7. Blake
CHAPTER SEVEN
blake
MOM: We’re SO excited for you, honey!!
MOM: I forgot to ask on the phone this morning. Did she like the ring???
DAD: It’s about damn time, son. Happy for you.
She loved it, mom.
A t least, I hoped she did. But my mom didn’t need to know just how much of yesterday felt a little unclear.
And thanks, dad. Appreciate it.
I sighed, ignoring the bad taste in my mouth from telling my parents half-truths. We didn’t always get a chance to talk regularly; they were just as busy as me, my mom running a pet rescue organization in the Twin Cities that kept her going all day long to save as many animals as possible and my dad working as a security guard with long shifts. But still, I’d never purposefully kept things from them. I was their oldest of five, and our relationship had always been really transparent.
But this was just how things had to be. At least for now.
I switched over to a different thread, the one with all my siblings.
Hey guys, I wanted to let you know some news.
NOAH: Oh, I think I know what this is.
NAT: Do I know what this is?
Neither of you know what this is.
Well, Noah kinda knows.
NOAH: Fuck yeah, I do.
NAT: Why does Noah know and I don’t?
SULLY: Oh, thank fucking God you texted us. Otherwise I was about to spill it myself.
Wtf? You don’t even know what I’m going to say.
SULLY: Yes, I do. You called Mom, and then she got lunch with me to gossip about it.
I rolled my eyes at the direction this conversation was going, but I wasn’t surprised. The whole reason I’d pulled my phone out to text my brothers and sister was to tell them before my mom spilled the news. And it looked like I was already too late.
SULLY: Am I mad you’ve deprived me of a reason to party? Absolutely. But am I even happier that you finally got the girl so you can stop depressing everyone with your moping? Hell to the fucking yes.
SULLY: Congrats, bro.
SULLY: How’d you do it?
SULLY: I need details.
NOAH: Sul, no. Just no.
SULLY: What? You don’t want to know how he proposed?
NOAH: PROPOSED?
THEO: Wtf is going on?? You’re blowing up my phone in the middle of a lecture. 120 college kids aren’t learning right now because of you.
NOAH: I told you to pick up her favorite flowers and some coffee, not a RING.
SULLY: Oops, I’m gonna shut up.
SULLY: But first, speaking of rings…you should maybe work on that yourself, Noah.
Delaney and I eloped. Here’s a picture of us yesterday at the courthouse.
I sent the picture in the group chat, wanting to get to the point before the entire conversation unraveled. And save Noah from having to reply to Sully.
NAT: OMG, BLAKE.
NAT: Congratulations! You both look stunning.
I looked at the picture of the two of us, taking in our happy expressions. We’d taken the photo for evidence and had posed to look like newlyweds might right after tying the knot. Delaney had her hand on my chest, ring on display, her chin tipped as she looked up at me, eyes sparkling. And since her smile was the most contagious thing in the world, I had a wide-stretched grin plastered on my face as my eyes cut down, looking over her as she stood beside me in her wedding dress.
The picture was fake, but I liked to think some bits of truth were woven into it.
THEO: Wow. Congrats, man. I think I’m missing some pieces to this story, but I don’t even really care right now. Happy for you.
NOAH: Holy fuck.
NOAH: Okay, I’m with Sully.
NOAH: I want to know the details now.
SULLY: See??
I shook my head, undeniably a little entertained by their reactions. I probably should have called them all separately to tell them about it, but we were a busy crew. It would have taken ages to get each of them on the phone, and then it probably would have resulted in a ridiculous argument that one of them knew before the rest.
I’m at work, but we’ll have to catch up. I can tell you all more about it soon.
NAT: I’m calling an emergency sibling dinner. This weekend. Chloe and I will host. Bring Delaney and Gemma!
NAT: And Delilah of course.
SULLY: Some of us don’t live in Boston, Nat.
NAT: You and Theo can join virtually. 7pm Saturday. See you there!
Christ.
I slid my phone back into my pocket, sighing as the lies I’d just told sunk deep in my gut. They undoubtedly thought this was sudden—any sane person would. But they’d be happy for me anyway. My siblings were well aware of how much Delaney meant to me. They knew that it had wrecked me when she’d gotten engaged to someone else. So as wild of a lie as this was, I’d known my family would believe it.
Which said something about how truly fucked I was.
I tried to pull my attention back to my charts. I’d never had a harder time concentrating at work than I did today. It didn’t even have to do with the fact that my pocket kept buzzing as my siblings continued to plan the family dinner that would be an absolute terror to get through without slipping up.
No, even if my phone was dead silent, I still wouldn’t have been able to concentrate. Because I was fucked in so many ways besides lying to my family. It was entirely my fault, considering I’d been the one to propose to Delaney. And that proposition had led to the events of yesterday, the ones where I’d married my best friend and kissed her in a way that wasn’t the least bit friendly.
I shouldn’t have done that. I should have given her a chaste kiss that wouldn’t have given anything away, like how much I’d been dying for that—dying for her mouth on mine, her taste on my tongue, her breath hitching because of my touch.
Fuck, I’d wanted it, had been wanting it, and the reality of it, of her , was beyond anything I ever could have imagined.
Just thinking about that kiss and what she’d tasted like made me hard to the point of goddamn pain, and I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do about it. I’d never touched myself while thinking about Delaney before because I respected her too fucking much. I put her in a box labeled “ friend, best ” in my head and didn’t go near it or dare to open it with any thoughts in mind except for appropriate ones.
But that was before I knew what her lips felt like. That was before we’d gotten married and kissed—things that didn’t belong in a box labeled “ friend, best .” And now I was going wild, drowning in desire without any relief.
But I’d had to kiss her like that.
For one, it was the only opportunity I’d ever probably get to kiss Delaney Delacroix—scratch that, London.
Delaney London.
Oh my fucking God.
I dropped my head into my hands in the spare exam room and groaned. A goddamn name wasn’t supposed to put me into this much of a spiral. My cock wasn’t supposed to twitch in my fucking pants from just the thought of her name. But it wasn’t just her name anymore; it was our name. Delaney thought it was best to take my name—with the exception of remaining Dr. Delacroix at work—to make this seem as real as possible, and fuck, did it feel real. Too real. And that was what undeniably drove me wild. That and the memory of that kiss.
I shouldn’t have given it to her, but I didn’t want our one and only kiss to be something she wouldn’t remember or something I’d regret. Not to mention, she’d shown up at that courthouse looking so fucking despondent, like she wasn’t sure if she should be making me do this, like this was the best and only wedding she would ever have, and maybe that did make her a little bit sad—even if she didn’t want to admit that to herself.
There’d been a wistfulness in her; I’d seen it when she looked down at her dress, one that she’d worn before and reminded her of an upbringing that she despised. And all I’d wanted to do was kiss those thoughts away. I couldn’t go back in time and make sure she wore the wedding dress of her dreams or had a ceremony that wasn’t rushed through in a courthouse. But I could kiss her like any girl deserved to be kissed on their wedding day. It was the least I could do.
And then, Delaney had done something that I still couldn’t wrap my head around.
She’d responded.
She’d groaned into my mouth, and that little sound was going to reverberate through my entire being for the rest of my fucking life.
I’d known for years that Delaney and I had chemistry—chemistry that she viewed as a compatible friendship. And having proof that maybe that chemistry was a little bit more than she expected was both satisfying and destructive to my sanity.
I dragged a hand down my face and forced myself to stop thinking about it. I needed to get through the rest of the workday without losing my shit, and then I needed to figure out how to spend the evening in the same vicinity as Delaney while pretending I wasn’t simultaneously elated and depressed about being her (fake) husband.
I hadn’t exactly done a great job last night; I’d spent so much time preparing for the wedding—ensuring I had the ring, the license, the balls to kiss her—that I hadn’t thought much about what would happen immediately after the wedding. The result had been to order our favorite combination of pizza that we’d relied on so many times as starving med students—pineapple and pepperoni—while sitting on the couch in our wedding clothes and binging the last season of New Girl . Which was, arguably, the worst one.
Not a stellar first night as a husband, fake or not.
Checking my watch, I stood and took a deep breath. I’d been lingering in here for too long after my last patient and was going to be late for my next one if I didn’t pull it together. So I tucked Delaney deep in the corner of my mind in a box labeled “ wife, fake ” and “ friend, best ” and strode into the hallway, maneuvering around the nurses and other physicians until I found where I was supposed to be next.
This was a new patient, but I’d met her dad on a number of occasions. It was one of those tricky things about being a doctor; you never really wanted to see someone you know end up in one of your exam rooms because that rarely meant something good for them.
But I was providing a second opinion today, and from what I knew, the first opinion was good news for the patient.
I heard the sound of a giggling toddler before the door was even open, and I smiled as I greeted Gracie Elez-Everett first, bending down to say hi before turning to her parents—her very famous, very high-profile parents, who were also some of Noah’s best friends from college.
“Hey, man,” Grayson said first, shaking my hand with a firm grip. “Thank you so much for fitting us into your schedule.”
“Yes, thank you so much,” his wife, Nessa, echoed. “We’re so grateful that you were able to meet with us.”
“It’s my pleasure,” I said honestly. I’d always liked these two. “I’m sure your schedule is a hell of a lot busier than mine.” I paused in thought, cocking my head at Grayson, who played in the NFL like Noah. “Have mini camps started for you yet? I know they haven’t for Noah, but I don’t know enough about it to know if they are all at the same time or how that works.”
“Not yet,” Grayson replied with an easy smile. “I’ve got a few weeks still. Get to spend more time with the kids and be Nessa’s number one fanboy at her upcoming shows.”
He glanced at his wife, his expression so full of adoration that the moment suddenly felt intimate.
Noah had told me that it was always like that with them, and since he’d said that pre-Gemma, when he’d been a cocky playboy, he’d mocked their obsession with each other a little bit. But all I felt when I looked at these two and their daughter bouncing on Nessa’s knee was envy.
But I swallowed that envy and smiled. “Where’s your other little one today?”
“Gabe’s back home with his Uncle Beau and Aunt Collins, getting undoubtedly spoiled,” Grayson replied.
I chuckled, recognizing the names as more of Noah’s college friends. Then I turned to Nessa, also known as the indie pop sensation Wednesday Elevett. Delaney listened to her music sometimes, but I’d never told her I’d met Nessa years before she grew into fame.
“Any of those shows around here?” I asked.
“Sadly, no,” Nessa said. She had a twinkle in her eye like she knew that was probably for the best. Like I wasn’t actually interested in going to one of her performances.
But it would have been fun. I could have brought Delaney. Surprised her.
“Just a few in New York,” Nessa added, which piqued my interest.
That wasn’t that far away.
I nodded before turning my attention to the real reason we were here: their daughter.
I’d been prepped on their history before their appointment today, so I knew that Grayson was born with a congenital heart defect, coarctation of the aorta, which had been passed on to their older son, Gabriel. Only the defect hadn’t been detected at birth, despite Grayson’s perseverance in having him scanned for it. His aortic coarctation wasn’t discovered until Gabriel was four or five when Grayson took his son back to his own childhood physician for a second opinion.
Gracie’s early scans did not show evidence of a heart defect. This was what her doctor back in California had told Grayson and Nessa after her birth, but they were skeptical, understandably. And they wanted a second opinion.
Coarctation of the aorta was manageable and treatable, as evidenced by the existence of Grayson, a star athlete in the NFL. I had my own slight concerns about that, especially as Grayson pushed toward thirty, but that was beside the point of why we were here today.
If aortic coarctation was left undetected, there was a high level of risk, which was also evidenced by Grayson, who suffered a stroke and fell into a coma when he’d been in college with Noah. Such as in Grayson’s case, it was possible that even after corrective surgery, re-coarctation could occur, resulting in constricted blood flow and forcing the heart into overdrive. But in most circumstances, correcting the defect when patients were young provided good outcomes for a healthy childhood and adulthood.
“So I took a look at Gracie’s scans,” I said, settling into the desk space in the exam room and swiping my badge on the computer to pull up her file. “And I have good news.”
I could practically hear how both Nessa and Grayson held their breath at my words, and I looked over at them with a reassuring smile before Gracie drew my attention with a gurgling giggle. She was an adorable mix of her parents. Her dark brown hair, matching Nessa’s, sprouted from her head in ringlets, reminding me of a hobbit child. And her piercing grayish-blue eyes were the same ones boring into the side of my head, coming from the chair where Grayson sat.
I looked over at him, meeting his concerned gaze.
“I didn’t see anything that’s a cause for worry,” I said before pulling up the scan to show them myself. I wasn’t sure if their previous doctor had done this, but I liked my patients to know my reasoning and feel confident in what I shared with them. When Grayson and Nessa seemed convinced with that, I added, “But we can absolutely run another set of tests for me to take a closer look. I could also, with your permission, pull in my wife to review the results of the new scans. She’s a cardiologist at SCMC who I know has had experience with cases such as yours, and I’m sure she’d be happy to consult with me on it.”
I’d expected it to be hard to remember to refer to Delaney as someone more than a friend or a colleague, but the words came out with so much ease.
My wife.
She was my wife.
Even if it was just a legality, I didn’t fucking care.
Grayson’s expression shifted at the mention of Delaney, like he couldn’t decide if he should have known that I had a wife. I could tell he was wondering if it was something Noah had told him, and he’d forgotten, or if congratulations were in order. Ultimately, he decided not to say anything, staying focused on Gracie.
I was fine with that—less faking for today.
“I would like that,” Grayson said, and why wouldn’t he? Money wasn’t an object for them, and he came with baggage that I could tell weighed on him. There was guilt in his eyes, guilt that he could pass on something that could possibly harm his children. “Anything we can do to make sure nothing is missed.”
“Sure,” I said with a nod, “let’s see what we can get scheduled for today. And then after I consult with Dr. Delacroix on the results, I’ll reach out to you to discuss.”
Grayson gave me a grateful look before I turned back to the computer to get everything set up so I could put his mind at ease.
Delaney didn’t hear me walk into the apartment when I got home from work, even though she was sitting on the couch, well within earshot. Her attention stayed trained on the puzzle spread across the coffee table, a wineglass dangling between her fingers. She stared without touching it or moving the pieces.
She did this sometimes, zoned out. She got lost deep in that beautiful brain of hers, and I couldn’t even blame her because I’d spend my days there, too, if I could.
But this evening, I took the opportunity to study her profile, the graceful curve of her nose, her long, windswept bangs framing her heart-shaped face, and the slight rosiness of her cheeks—likely from the wine.
My eyes dropped to the ring on her finger, and my stomach twisted into knots.
Would I ever get over that?
I hadn’t been sure if she would wear it all the time or just when the occasion called for it, and to see that it was on her finger now, when there was no one else around, made a smile creep onto my face.
I took a careful step forward, not wanting to startle her. It was probably inevitable at this point, but I’d still try.
“Lane,” I said softly, dropping my keys on the kitchen counter.
She jolted a little, as I knew she would, but recovered quickly, turning to face me with a friendly smile.
“Oh, hi.” She sounded breathless. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Thinking about work?” I asked. “Long day?”
That was usually what it meant when she brought the puzzle out. She was doing her favorite one, too—the one with the tulip fields.
“Thinking about…” she repeated like she was processing the question. Her cheeks flamed brighter, and she quickly sipped her wine before nodding. “Yeah, just some work stuff on my mind.” She sat up straighter, folding herself onto the couch and tucking her bare feet beneath her bottom like she always did. “How was your day?”
“Pretty good.” I hooked a finger into my tie to loosen it and then walked over to Delaney, feeling her gaze trail me across the room as I sat on the couch next to her. “I got permission to run this case by you. Can I?”
“Of course.” She cleared her throat and put her glass of wine on the coffee table before us. “Tell me about it.”
Her eyes turned eager, as sharp as her focus suddenly became, and I launched into a rundown of Gracie Elez-Everett’s case and shared the scans with her. Even though I got written permission from Nessa and Grayson to divulge everything, I decided to keep their identity to myself. Delaney wasn’t the kind of physician to let a patient’s high profile distract her from providing sound medical advice, but I didn’t want to take any risks or derail the conversation from the point.
Delaney tracked the details easily like I’d known she would, and I was happy, but not surprised, that her consensus was the same as mine after she reviewed the results from today. As her original doctors in California had determined, Gracie had not inherited her dad’s congenital heart defect. There really hadn’t been a question in my mind about the results, but if Delaney’s input could provide Grayson even further relief, this conversation was necessary.
“Coarctation of the aorta is more commonly found in males than females, so it isn’t terribly surprising that her brother was born with the heart defect, but she wasn’t,” Delaney commented thoughtfully before picking up her wineglass again with a note of finality.
“I was thinking the same thing,” I said, nodding. “Thanks, just wanted to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.”
That, and I’d wanted to talk to her about something that would bring us back to our roots, to where our friendship belonged—intertwined with medicine and professionalism and our careers.
She gave me a thoughtful look.
“What?”
“Since when do you miss anything?”
“Don’t act like I don’t make mistakes, Delaney. I’m not perfect. My flaws go far beyond being a condescending asshole sometimes.”
If she knew some of the things that went on in my head, especially where she was concerned, she’d undoubtedly agree.
“Oh, stop.” She ran her finger up and down the fringe on one of my throw pillows, her eyes watching the movement instead of me. “Do you still feel like yesterday wasn’t…a mistake?”
“I don’t have any regrets about yesterday,” I said without a second thought. I should have regretted the kiss, but I didn’t. My only regret was that I hadn’t done more to commemorate the day, even if that might have alarmed Delaney, considering our marriage wasn’t real . “Do you?”
I held my breath as she took longer than normal to respond, but then…
“Of course not. It’s really more than I could ever hope for.”
I nodded. I might have spent the better part of the day in agony while replaying the events of yesterday, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t also incredibly satisfying to help Delaney chase her dreams. She deserved them.
“You might change your mind when I tell you about our plans for the weekend,” I said dryly.
Delaney’s head popped up, curiosity glittering in her gaze.
“ Our plans?”
I sighed before admitting, “London family dinner at Natalie’s.”
“Oh.” She tipped her head to the side, adorable confusion still playing out on her features. “But I’m?—”
“A London now,” I finished. “And my siblings have a lot of questions about that fact.”
Her lips popped apart in both understanding and surprise, and I couldn’t help but trace the curve of her mouth with my eyes, my thoughts immediately deteriorating into a place they shouldn’t be. Heat licked every nerve ending in my body as I remembered how eagerly that mouth had met mine yesterday, and I had to drag my attention up to her eyes. But fuck, they’d been watching me. And there was something I hadn’t seen before in her gaze, something…alive.
“You told them already?” she said after a tension-filled beat of silence.
“It would have killed my parents if I didn’t tell them right away, so I called them this morning,” I replied. “But news travels fast in the London family, so I knew it wouldn’t be long before my siblings knew anyway.”
Delaney took in the information with quiet consideration.
“Okay.” She flashed me a nervous smile. “Dinner with the London family it is, then.”
I went to grab her hand, wanting to reassure her, but thought better of it. Touching Delaney right now when I still hadn’t gotten over touching her yesterday seemed like a bad idea. So I gave her a relaxed grin instead.
“It’ll be fun,” I said, hoping I could speak that fact into existence. “My siblings are all way nicer than me anyway.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” she scoffed.
“It is,” I argued. “I’m only usually nice. They’re always nice.”
Well, they weren’t always nice to me . But they would be nice to her , of that I was certain. Especially since it was the first time Noah and Natalie were meeting her, considering we used to live in different states until recently.
Delaney gave me a teasing little shove before returning to her puzzle, leaving a spark of heat in her wake. My body tingled from that touch, and I wondered how the hell she didn’t feel it, too.
But I’d been wondering that for years, and just because there was now a ring on both of our fingers didn’t mean that was about to change.
Nothing between us was going to change.
But for some reason, I just couldn’t shake the feeling it already had.