Chapter 14
Holding my index cards in one hand and my plastic fork in the other, I shoved a bite of salad into my mouth as I thumbed the top card off to read the next.
I took my one-week study-free break and got right back into cramming. I had four weeks until my board exam, and I took my two shifts the week prior to it off to give myself even more uninterrupted time to prepare. I felt like this exam was my make-or-break-it, and my anxiety was through the roof.
Marie glanced over. “You’re stressing me out just watching you.”
“Wait, that’s not right.” I ignored her entirely as I dropped my cards and grabbed my notebook, flipping through it as my eyes darted between the index card and the pages. “Shit.” I plucked my pen out of my pocket before crossing out a line on the card and rewriting it.
“I’ll be glad when this is over so you can pay more attention to me during breaks,” Marie quipped.
I huffed out a laugh at that. “I’ll be all yours in four weeks.”
“I expect a message immediately upon seeing that ‘pass’ pop up on the screen so I know it’s over.”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
Just then, the breakroom door opened, and in walked Blake. He looked at me and Marie, nodding in acknowledgment with a small smile as he moved to the refrigerator.
As he bent over, I could see Marie out of the corner of my eye tilt her head, eyeing him up and down. I looked at her, swatting her arm and shooting her a look. She shrugged with a grin as if to say, “can you blame me?” Then she pointed, mouthing, “he’s got a nice ass.”
We both snapped to attention when we heard the refrigerator door close, and Blake paused when he turned, seeing the two of us sitting notably more stiffly.
He arched a dark brow. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, great,” we said in unison.
Because that wasn’t at all obvious.
While Blake turned to the microwave and placed a container inside, Marie cleared her throat. “Well…I should get back.” She stood, dumped her empty container into the garbage, and walked out, leaving me and Blake in the breakroom alone.
I’d worked with Blake every shift since he started—we had the same schedule.
I liked working with him, though. He was efficient, and I enjoyed watching him interact with the patients.
The other day, I was with him when he was suturing a laceration on a nine-year-old boy who fell in the park while rollerblading.
The kid was scared, but Blake was so good at making him feel calm, talking to him while he sutured to try and keep him occupied on something other than the stitches he was getting.
He had a way of making his patients feel at ease, regardless of the reason they were there.
It was in complete contrast to what he seemed to be dealing with himself.
I could tell he was concealing a lot. Even when he smiled, it never quite reached his eyes. He engaged with others like normal, but there seemed to be a sorrow that lurked in his laughter. Curiosity tugged at me, making me want to understand him more, even if I knew I probably shouldn’t dig.
I gathered my index cards and notebook, setting them aside so I could finish my salad while he grabbed his container from the microwave and sat at the table across from me. Whatever he was eating smelled amazing.
I peered over the table. “What is that?”
He looked at me, then at his container. “Just some pesto pasta from home.”
“You made it?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “I can be pretty self-sufficient when I want to be.”
“I guess so,” I said with a smile. Another bout of silence fell between us before I cleared my throat. “You excited about the wedding this weekend?”
“Yeah,” he replied with a nod.
“Are your parents going?”
He nodded again. “Yeah. I think they’re actually planning on carpooling with your mom.”
“Oh…” I tilted my head. “She didn’t mention it, but I guess that makes sense, since they’re right across the street from one another.”
“Easier that way,” he added.
“Are you bringing a date?” I don’t know what the hell possessed me to ask that, but it came out before I could think better of it.
“No, no date for me,” he answered without hesitation, shaking his head. “You?”
“Uh, yeah…I am. But it was a last-minute kind of thing.”
It was really last-minute. As in, it just happened by accident, and only a couple of days ago. I hadn’t even told Marie yet, but I didn’t think I was going to. Because my last-minute wedding date was my ex, Ryan.
I ran into him on Sunday—at the grocery store, of all places.
Our conversation started in the cereal aisle, where he apologized for being snippy in his messages about meeting up for drinks.
I explained that I’d been busy studying.
He was both apologetic and charming, and asked to make it up to me that weekend.
When I told him I couldn’t meet because of the wedding—the rehearsal and dinner were on Friday, and the wedding on Saturday—one thing led to another.
Suddenly, I’d invited him to be my plus one.
Callie had already told me weeks ago that I could bring a last-minute date if I found one. He agreed to come.
I knew it was stupid. And I could hear Marie now if she found out—she’d tell me he wasn’t going to change, that I was stupid for even entertaining him, that he was just going along with it in hopes of getting something out of me at the end of the night.
But it wasn’t about any of that for me. Not really.
It was more the fact that I simply didn’t want to go to a wedding dateless.
And Ryan happened to be available and, just like Marie called me out for, he was familiar.
Yes, I was aware it was sad and probably a little pathetic, but I pushed that aside because at least I had a date.
Or so I thought.
When Saturday rolled around, I ended up dateless anyway.
That evening, I found myself sitting at the head table, watching Callie and Lucas share their first dance. Beside me, my brother sat with his arms wrapped around Morgan. Other couples lingered around the dancefloor, watching the new bride and groom with rapt attention.
Ryan ghosted me.
I reached out to him on Thursday to ensure he had the proper attire to wear for the formal event. When he didn’t respond, a pit formed in my stomach.
I reached out again on Friday, but I still didn’t hear from him.
I tried once more that morning while getting my hair done with Callie and Morgan, but as the afternoon rolled around with no reply, resignation and humiliation gnawed at me. And I gave up.
I was more disappointed than anything else, but I didn’t let it get to me too much. Instead, I focused on Callie, the wedding, and my duties as a bridesmaid.
The wedding was beautiful and had gone off without a hitch.
I was a little worried about interacting with Blake too much in front of my brother—he was a perceptive little shit at times, and the anxiety of possibly revealing something I shouldn’t left me in a persistent state of worry.
I didn’t want to give off any ‘I saw your best friend naked’ vibes, and I think Blake felt the same because he kept our interactions limited as well.
The night began to wind down, and guests were offering more congratulations before saying their goodbyes to the happy couple. Lucas and Callie eventually took off to enjoy their wedding night while those of us in the wedding party ensured the rest of the guests left safely.
Gabe offered to drive my mom and his parents back home since they all got a little too champagne happy during the reception, and he was sober.
I walked out with Wes and Morgan, telling my mom we’d see her tomorrow for dinner, before Wes helped her into the car.
Meanwhile, Blake said goodnight to his parents and brother.
Once they were pulling out of the parking lot, Wes and Morgan, who’d barely been keeping their hands to themselves, called out their goodnights as they hurried off to Wes’s car.
Then, it was just me and Blake.
“Last ones standing,” I joked.
He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah.”
We turned and started toward our Jeeps—he was parked a few spaces down in the row behind me. My steps slowed as we neared my car, and he looked at me. “I thought you had a date for tonight?”
I let out a laugh laced with a hint of bitterness.
“No. Change of plans, I guess you could say.” Embarrassment simmered beneath my attempt at minimization; I didn’t want to admit I’d been stood up.
He simply nodded, not asking for any further details.
“You seemed aloof today.” I didn’t plan for it to come out like that, but curiosity and genuine concern edged out any hesitation.
I couldn’t help but notice how, throughout the day, he seemed almost distant.
“Aloof?” he questioned, but he didn’t seem offended. More amused.
“Yeah,” I said, my lips twitching. “And not just today, actually. You just seem…reserved, in a sense. All of the time. Even at work.”
Blake shrugged with a hint of a smile. “Not sure what to tell you.”
“Well…tell me something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Anything,” I said. “Just…tell me something real.”
“Something real,” he echoed, and I nodded, my eyes locked on his in what could be perceived as a challenge. He started walking backward toward his Jeep. “I recently got a dog.”
I rolled my eyes playfully with a breathy chuckle. “A dog? That’s what you’re giving me?” He shrugged, still walking. “What kind of dog?” I called out.
“A rescue. Golden retriever. His name is Maverick.”
“A golden retriever. That seems fitting for you.”
“What’s that mean?”
I chuckled. “Nothing. Goodnight, Blake.”
I slid into the driver’s seat of my Jeep, closing the door behind me, and I watched through my window as he climbed into his own, sealing himself behind the lightly tinted glass when he shut his door.
And I suddenly found myself wondering what exactly it would take to get Blake Pierson to open up.