Chapter 15 #2
Oh. Like sinking slowly into warm water, the world gone quiet for a moment.
“Even if you’re right…” God, I wanted Neil to be right. “Attending applications open in winter. Starting anything with me—he’d just about ruin his own chances with Devon.”
“So keep it secret,” Neil said, easy as you please.
For a moment, I let myself imagine it—sneaking up to the rooftop for a quick kiss, sleeping in Jesse’s bed but arriving separately. Telling no one. Shrugging whenever Khai and Tessa asked if I was dating. Just not really looking right now, you know?
I’d do it.
“He wouldn’t want that.” I paused, tired, then flicked on the stove. “He’s… ethical. Which I love, right?” Love. I moved on before it could take root. “He stepped down as my supervisor because it was the right thing to do. Going behind everyone’s back—he’d hate it.”
“Maybe you should ask him before assuming anything?” Neil suggested, gentle.
I ladled some batter into a pan, the warm, greasy smell of melting butter hanging a little too thick in the air.
“Pretty sure he’s at least half in love with you.
” I couldn’t ask Jesse to keep us secret, not when I knew it would make him miserable.
Not when he might lose everything he’d worked so hard for, everything he deserved. I couldn’t.
Funny how I considered myself a serial monogamist, hadn’t spent much time single since I’d turned eighteen, and yet with all my relationships… I hadn’t felt like this about any of my exes—like I would put myself second, no questions asked, just to make sure they were all right. Funny, yeah.
More like scary as fuck.
“Maybe,” I said softly, more to myself.
Neil seemed to take it as agreement because he made a satisfied noise. “Good. Also, though—Jesus, Finn. The way you looked when he brought you home? Why were you even at work?”
“I didn’t want to fail.”
“And getting sick means failure?” His tone implied he thought it absurd. I glanced at the way he was sprawled on his chair, easy confidence that never tipped into arrogance, and wished I had half his self-assurance.
“Kind of?” Especially with the full simulation for the twin surgery coming up next week.
I was too junior to handle anything of importance, but even scrubbing in, holding retractors, monitoring vitals—it was a big deal.
If I seemed shaky at all, they’d swap me out for the real thing. Simple precaution.
I had to be back on my feet by then.
“That’s bullshit,” Neil said. “I know you doctors have some weird code that’s all about, like, working through pain and never taking sick days.
But guess what? If you’re face down in a supply closet, then no, that’s not ‘impressive commitment, dude.’ That’s being an idiot who doesn’t take care of himself. ”
Well. He wasn’t wrong.
“Okay.” I let a smile twitch around my mouth. “Now tell me how you really feel?”
He flipped me off. It pulled a laugh from me that rasped like sandpaper, but my chest felt wider than it had in days.
“Should you actually be here?”
Ah. Five minutes after I’d arrived for my shift, Tay had found me. I turned and aimed for a totally healthy, zero-lingering-cough-or-weakness smile. “I’m much better, honestly.”
“Right.” He squinted at me, openly skeptical. “This from the guy who kept telling me he’s fine. Thought we’d agreed to skip the bullshit?”
Shit, and now I’d pissed off my supervisor. I pressed my tongue against the back of my teeth, hesitating. The sky was only just shaking off first light, sunrise a half-hour away, and truth was that rolling out of bed earlier had felt damn near beyond me.
All right. Honesty edition.
“We did,” I told him. “And I’m… at maybe seventy percent. But I am better, I swear. And I already missed half the week—I can’t afford to miss even more.”
Tay shook his head, but he seemed more resigned than irritated.
“You know, Dean always says there are two types of surgeons: those who think they’re God’s gift to the world, and those who think it’s only a matter of time until someone realizes they shouldn’t really be there. You, my friend, are category two.”
I—yeah. I ducked my head. “Well, can’t argue with truth, can you?”
“Shame too many still try.” His expression loosened slightly.
“And look, same. You and I are rather alike in that way, okay? But maybe—just think about it. You’re not convinced you deserve to be here, to be doing what you’re doing.
But somehow, you also believe you might be the only one competent enough to suspect that you don’t belong.
More competent than dozens of highly qualified people whose job it is to assess whether you’ve got what it takes. ”
“When you put it like that…” I lifted a shoulder. “Still, it’s a lot easier to rationalize than it is to actually feel it, right?”
“Right.” Tay watched me for a second, then smiled, a little sadly. “But the result can’t be that you almost collapse on the job until Jesse orders you home. You have to look out for yourself, too, okay? Because there won’t always be a Jesse around.”
Something about the way he said it made me swallow. I had two weeks left in my pediatric surgery rotation, then I’d move on to neurology. I might still pass Jesse in hallways or the cafeteria, but it would be a rare moment here and there, no longer something I could count on.
“I know,” I said softly, and maybe Tay heard something in my voice because he gave my shoulder a quick squeeze.
“Good. So we’ve got a deal—no more running yourself ragged?”
I nodded and half meant it. “Deal.”
“Awesome.” The upward curve to his lips grew more pronounced. “Then let’s poke and prod at some patients.”
“You’re such an inspiration,” I said flatly, only to drop the act. “But seriously, thank you. I appreciate it.”
“We all need someone to set us straight sometimes. It’s what I’m here for.”
Devon Memorial had a reputation—cutthroat, sink or swim, you snooze you lose. I’d seen glimpses of that during orientation and in Dr. Novak’s precise efficiency—perfection was only just good enough. But so far, I’d lucked out with my supervisors. Even if Jesse was in a category of his own.
“Thank you,” I repeated, and Tay grinned.
“You’re welcome. Now, enough chitchat. Let’s go.”
We went.
I stopped dead in my tracks. Like I was stuck in some fucking cartoon.
Jesse wasn’t even doing anything special, just walking out a mom, listening as she talked in a low, urgent voice.
His whole body was turned to her, and something about it—the way he cared, how he never dismissed parents and their fears as irrational, never put himself above them.
Just like I’d told Neil a couple of days ago, Jesse was good.
And right now, it hit me like a punch to the gut. Because… Fuck. Fuck. I was in love with him.
No. That hadn’t been part of the plan. Attraction, sure—I could handle that. But I wasn’t… I didn’t… Love? No. Except, yeah. That bright, bubbly feeling in my stomach, the sinking weight in my bones. How something in me went quiet just at the sight of him.
He glanced up and over, caught me watching. His eyes warmed, the worried curve of his mouth softening into a gentler tilt. “Pretty sure he’s at least half in love with you.” Neil’s words, echoing like standing right next to a tolling church bell. If Neil was right…
Well, hey. Travis had claimed to be in love with me until he dumped my ass.
Ken, too, before him. Jace, Everett. Easy come, easy go—that’s how they’d all felt about me, the shine wearing off quickly once I showed my true colors.
Medical rambling and sloppy grinding, wasn’t that how Travis had put it? Not good enough.
If Jesse and I started something real and then he did that to me, simply snapped his fingers and walked away—it wouldn’t just bruise my ego like with Travis. It would…
It would hurt. Really fucking hurt.
Jesse might have caught an odd twist to my face because a micro-frown washed across his features, gone in a blink.
Harsh light caught the curve of one cheekbone and dripped down his jaw.
His attention returned to the mom. I stayed where I was, lab reports tucked under my arm, while he walked her to the elevator.
Act normal, I told myself when he returned, a quiet smile on his face. “Hey.”
“Hi.” Did I sound breathless, tense, awkward? Jesus, this was stupid.
His gaze skimmed me once, in a slow drag that I felt down to my toes. “You look alive. Recovered from the van?”
With a dozen thoughts clamoring for space in my brain, like a computer bogged down by too many open apps, it took me a second to get it. Right, yeah. We’d exchanged a few more messages after that, nothing too personal, just carefully worded variations of how are you and getting better.
“Yeah,” I said. “Or—I’m vertical, caffeinated, and not actively hallucinating. That counts, right?”
He glanced around, then leaned in, voice shaded with concern. “Finn…” Just that—my name, trailing off into nothing.
I swallowed. “I’m okay. Really.”
“Feels like I’ve heard that one before.” The corners of his mouth turned down. “Roughly around the time you just about fell over. So…”
“If it helps, Tay already took me to task.”
“Did he?” Something uneasy flitted around Jesse’s expression.
“Nicely,” I amended quickly, just in case that was what bothered Jesse. “He was kind but firm about it.”
“Right.” If anything, Jesse seemed even more uneasy, watching me closely. What…? Oh. No—seriously?
I stared back, waiting.
“You, uh.” Jesse’s lips pressed together. “Seems you really clicked with him.”
Yes—seriously. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Here I was, in fucking love with him, and he got jealous of Tay? Ridiculous. A quick look confirmed we were alone, nothing but the polished shine of laminated floors and a window framing a rectangle of concrete buildings and gray sky.
“Jesse.” I dropped my voice. “Tay is dating that CT attending, in case you missed it. Also? I’m not interested.”
Jesse had the good grace to look sheepish. “It’s not—I mean. It wouldn’t be any of my business.”