Chapter 15
Brant
We're all panting, Dusty's doubled over laughing, and Regan’s hands are on her knees, hair stuck to her face, grinning like she just won. I can’t take my eyes off her.
She straightens up, brushing a sweaty strand behind her ear, and when her eyes meet mine, there's a spark there.
“You’re not bad for someone who wears a suit to work,” she says, nudging my arm with her elbow.
“Didn’t see you scoring,” I say, even though I’m pretty sure she outplayed me at least twice.
“Oh, please.” She grins. “I had to carry the team.”
I laugh, and the sound surprises me. When was the last time I felt this light with a woman?
Her shoulder brushes mine again, and I don’t move away. I don’t want to.
It’s too natural, being near her. Too easy to let my guard drop with the way she’s looking at me, not like I’m fragile, not like I’m broken, but like I’m just a guy who got a little sweaty playing football with a kid and a woman he can’t stop thinking about.
And yeah, she knows now. Knows the truth about my heart. But she didn’t look at me differently. She didn’t flinch.
That might be the part that’s undoing me most of all.
“You good?” she asks quietly, as if reading my mind.
I nod. “Yeah. Better now.”
And I mean it. Because for a second out here, with her laughter in the air and my pulse racing for all the right reasons, I forgot about what I carry with me every day in this job.
I just felt alive.
And damn if I don’t want more of that… with her.
Dusty bolts the moment dessert is mentioned, running with a rush of enthusiasm toward the house. His laughter trails off as he disappears inside, leaving just me and Regan on the patio alone.
I glance down at my watch, though I don’t register the time.
“Always planning your next move, aren’t you, Dr. Suit?” Regan says, lowering herself onto the seat beside me. She crosses one leg over the other, her arm draped casually along the backrest, but the distance between us feels safe and yet… charged.
I offer a smile. “Force of habit. Still waiting on news.”
She lifts her glass of wine just as I reach for mine, and our hands brush, barely. It’s a flicker of contact, but it feels like a jolt all the same.
“The hospital kind of news, or the office politics kind?”
“Both, if I’m honest?”
“Mm.” She takes a slow sip, watching me over the rim. “Hard not to pay attention to that stuff when your father runs half of it.”
My fingers tighten slightly around my glass. “He spoke to me about it, you know? About you.”
Her eyebrows lift. “When?”
“After the article came out.” I swirl what’s left of my drink, the ice long melted. “He made it pretty clear that my career aspirations and any interest in his daughter couldn’t coexist.”
The words hang heavy between us. From inside, laughter bursts, unaware of our conversation.
“And you believed him?”
Her laugh is soft, almost disbelieving, and it hurts more than I expected it to.
I shift slightly to face her. “I’ve wanted to be Chief of Pediatrics since I was a resident.
Every rotation, every overnight shift, every sacrificed weekend, it’s all been for that. I never said no. I couldn’t afford to.”
“And my father holds the key to it all.” She leans in, the space between us shrinking. “So, big decisions ahead for you, Dr. Suit.”
My gaze locks with hers, and for a second, I forget how to breathe. “You make it sound simple.”
“Nothing worth having is simple,” she murmurs. “I’ve watched you with patients. With Dusty. You’re not just chasing a title; you want to change how things work. The title’s just a bonus.”
I go still. She saw that in me. “How did you...”
“My father sees the title you’re chasing. I see why you’re chasing it.”
I set my glass down slowly. Her words crack something open in me, something I’ve kept locked down for too long.
“Your father’s not wrong,” I say. “Being chief would let me implement those protocols across the board. I could rewrite how cardiac cases are handled, not just for one patient, but for all of them. That kind of reach... it changes lives.”
Her eyes never leave mine. “At what cost?”
I shake my head slightly, a humorless smile tugging at my mouth. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
The truth is more complicated than I want to admit.
I want a family and someone to come home to.
I want to feel that deep-rooted kind of love that makes me rethink my priorities, that makes me want to leave work early, maybe get a pet, build something that isn’t just about saving lives but about living one.
But I can’t prioritize that right now. Not when the chief position is within reach.
Every spare moment goes toward proving myself.
My downtime consists of morning runs with podcasts in my ears and evening gym sessions before I head back to my same empty house, where ready-made meals await me.
It wouldn’t be fair to try dating when I have nothing left to give.
Once I’ve secured the position, though… then I’ll have time. Then I can focus on the personal side. Build the life I actually want.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
The sliding door creaks behind us, laughter spilling out louder now. Our moment is slipping away.
And then her hand crosses the space between us and rests lightly on mine. Her touch is warm as her thumb grazes my wrist, drawing a soft circle around my pulse, which, despite everything, remains calm.
“For what it’s worth,” she says quickly, “I think you’d make an extraordinary chief. Even my father knows it.” She leans in, just enough so only I can hear. “But I also think... there are some things worth risking everything for.”
My fingers close around her hand before I have time to second-guess it.
The door slides open fully, and Scarlet’s voice cuts through the spell. “Regan? Brant? Come in, we’re about to start a game.”
We both stand slowly. I don’t release her hand right away. My eyes search hers, asking a question I don’t dare speak.
She leans in closer, her breath brushing my ear as she whispers, “Some risks look different in the right light.”
My pulse races as I stand frozen for a second longer than I should, her words still tingling on my skin. Suddenly, going inside feels like the hardest decision I’ve had to make all evening.