Chapter 14
Amelia
A week later, I pull at the hem of my dress, nerves fluttering in my stomach just like last week. It’s from Adrian; knowing I’m about to see him.
Balancing the few things I picked up to finish the other baskets and games, I take a steadying breath to calm my nerves and knock on the door.
Adrian wants to take one to work tomorrow, and since I grew up with younger siblings, I knew to go and ask Walter from the toy shop for donations.
He was so generous when he found out it was to fix the CT scanner, as he’s used it before.
The door swings open almost immediately, like Adrian’s been waiting for me. He leans against the frame.
“Geez, watch out. I might think you’re dying to see me.” I ignore my stomach flipping. “People might get the wrong idea.”
“I knew it would be you. Wasn’t expecting anyone else to knock this afternoon.”
“True.”
“Here, let me take that.” He reaches for the bags.
I let him. It’s nice to have someone help.
He takes everything from my hands, and I shake my head, trying to ignore the brushing of his fingers on my arm.
“I didn’t mean for you to take all of it.”
“That’s what I offered. I want to help you. Happy to do it.”
I follow him inside. But instead of heading to the dining table, Adrian leads me to the living room, where a low coffee table is already covered in supplies.
“Figured we could sit here, put something on the TV, and be comfortable while we get everything ready,” he says, setting the bags down.
“Sounds good.”
He nods at the bags. “So, what did you bring?”
“Oh, just some extra donated toys for the baskets. Thought they might make them more appealing.”
“Nice.” He settles on the couch beside me, close enough that I catch his cologne and the cushions dip under his weight. My pulse quickens at the proximity. Is he sitting closer than necessary, or am I just hyperaware of every inch between us?
“Do you want a drink or something?”
I try to keep my voice even at the casual offer, to hide how his nearness is affecting me.
“I’m okay for now, thanks.”
We start arranging small toys, treats, and raffle items into the baskets. As we work, Adrian grabs a couple of extra gifts from the side of him. “Some of the doctors at work pitched in too.”
He’s only just started, and I can’t imagine what it would be like to be new to the hospital and a doctor. The pressure, the learning curve, trying to prove yourself while people’s lives are in your hands. “How’s that?”
He snorts. “You mean, how’s work in general, or how are the doctors? Because that’s a loaded question.”
I grin. “Everything.”
“Well, you remember being the new kid at school? That’s me. Except now, I’m the awkward new doctor trying to fit in. And on top of that, people assume I suck, so I have to dig my reputation out of the trenches.”
Did I contribute to this?
I wince as I realize what I’ve done. “That sounds rough.”
“Eh, it’s okay. Eventually, you’ll know my side of the story, right?” He winks.
“Exactly.”
He sighs heavily. “For now, I’m just taking it day by day, working hard, hoping people let me in eventually.”
“Does it help that Dr. Whisperer still follows you around?” I tease. “They seem to be making you their latest project.”
“Honestly, it’s a daily thing now,” he groans.
“They can take the most boring thing and turn it into gossip. Like earlier this week, Dr. Whisperer made a whole article about my choice in black coffee and what that says about me. But I’m starting to tell the difference between your stories and theirs. ”
I bite my lip as a tiny thrill fills me that he’s been paying such close attention to my work that he can identify it.
“Oh, yeah?” I desperately want to know what he’s figured out about me through my writing.
“Yours have depth. You try to tell a full story.”
“That’s a nicer way of saying Dr. Whisperer is trash.”
He shrugs. “Pretty much.”
“So, aside from being the new guy on the block, how’s life? What’s it like compared to the city?”
He leans back, considering. “Honestly? I like it. People here are more humble. They listen. They don’t always like the change, but at least I feel like I’m making a difference.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m rambling.”
I give him a small smile. “I get what you mean, even though I’ve never lived in the city. That’s why I love this town. Even when people give you a hard time, they eventually come around.”
He huffs a laugh. “Still waiting on that part.”
“Have you made any new friends at work yet?”
“Well, I see the same doctors every day, so I get the occasional ‘hello’ now instead of just a grunt. That’s progress, right?”
“Definitely.”
“I’ve got work next weekend, so if we need to do more, we’ll have to do it Friday night. If you’re free, of course.”
“I don’t have much of a life.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Usually, just hang out with my family, work, sleep. When I get any extra time, I’ll watch TV. Nothing exciting, really.”
He looks at me, his eyes softening just a little, like he’s trying to understand rather than just make polite conversation. “That doesn’t sound too bad. Sometimes it’s nice to have a routine.”
It’s a relief that he’s not dismissing my life as boring. But I’m not sure how to explain it. “Yeah, I suppose. It’s just... the same chaos, different day. Do you ever get bored of the same old thing?”
He hums, thinking. “I used to, but I’ve learned to appreciate the calm sometimes.”
There’s a pause between us, so I shuffle some papers, allowing me to think about how he mentioned wanting to fit in, and an idea forms. “Have you been to the bar yet?”
“No, but Derek from the barbershop invited me to go with him.”
“Derek’s great. He’s always up for something fun. The bar’s got a cool vibe. You should check it out sometime. Maybe we could go celebrate setting up the fundraiser?”
He raises his eyebrows as a small smile tugs at his lips. “Celebrate, huh? You’re making it sound like we’ve already pulled it off.”
“Well, setting it up is a win in itself, right?” I give him a teasing look, but deep down, I’m putting on a brave face, trying to convince myself as much as him. “It’s a big deal, and we’ve got it handled so far.”
Nodding, he laughs softly. “Alright. You’re right, we’re on the right track.”
I’m excited about his agreement, but panic washes over me as I worry I just asked him on a date unintentionally.
We finish up the last basket, wrapping it with cellophane and tying a neat ribbon on top. It looks good.
“I think it’s time for a drink before we keep going. All that made me thirsty.”
“Just water for now, please.”
As he gets up, I glance around the space, letting the moment settle in. It’s easy, working with him. Too damn easy.
He gives me a bottle, and I immediately take a sip of water, settling back down as we finish organizing the last of the festival games.
I read the list, noting we have the gingerbread kits ready, the duck pond items secured, and the face painting arranged.
And then work on the roster for the day, assigning volunteers to jobs.
Next, we grab the list of people we still need to reach out to for donations and help. I call up for set up help from the local club and lawyer, and he rings the last few businesses we haven’t called. Everyone has pitched in, leaving only a few final touches.
I’m satisfied and proud of what we’ve accomplished, but I’m still shaky from our closeness.
We sit on the floor, leaning back against the sofa, legs crossed. Our arms brush against each other, goosebumps scatter over my skin, but neither of us moves away.
Adrian turns on a TV show, and we fall into casual conversation, laughing at the ridiculous plot, making fun of the characters—just mindless chatter.
It feels effortless in a way I’m not used to.
At home, I never get to just sit, relax, and exist in the moment.
And even crazier, I don’t have to have the subtitles on to hear what is happening.
But here, with him, it’s different. It’s.
.. nice, but suddenly, I need to know more about him. “How old are you?”
Adrian glances at me. “Thirty-two. What about you?”
“Twenty-seven.”
The silence stretches, and I realize how close we are now we’re both slumped with exhaustion, our faces only inches apart. My heart races as I worry about the fallout if we act on this.
“I should get going.” I shift slightly, though I don’t really want to.
Adrian whispers. “Better get home for dinner.”
He leans in. My pulse pounds. I close my eyes, tilting toward him—
Keys jingle in the doorway, which makes us both jerk away. My stomach drops as I scramble to my feet.
What the hell was I thinking?
Keith steps inside, looking between us. “Oh, hey, guys.” His gaze falls on the baskets. “Wow, really making progress with the festival stuff.”
I clear my throat, glancing at Adrian to see if he looks as flustered as I feel. “Yeah, just about done.”
“You guys have dinner yet?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I was actually just about to leave.”
Keith waves a dismissive hand. “Why don’t you stay and eat with us? Just an hour.”
Adrian subtly nods, and I’m totally torn about what to do. I should probably get away from him, but I don’t want to go, now that I know Adrian wants me here. “I should check in with my mom first.”
“Of course. I’ll put in an order, just in case. If you don’t stay, there’ll be leftovers for Adrian to take to work tomorrow.”
I nod and step onto the porch to call home. Mom reassures me the kids can heat up leftovers or cup noodles, telling me to take my time. She sounds the same, still breathless and weak. So, I know I can’t stay too long.
When I walk back inside, both Adrian and Keith are watching me. Adrian searches my face, which causes me to fidget, while Keith seems oblivious to the tension swirling between us. “I’ll stay,” I say.
Keith grins. “Fantastic.”
While waiting for dinner, we fill Keith in on the fundraiser. When dinner arrives, we gather around, eating and talking. Keith tells us about his day—how someone stuck a Q-tip in their ear and ended up in the ER to get it removed because Keith couldn’t get it out.
“That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard.” I grimace. “Also, I’m never using Q-tips again.”
Laughter fills the room, but I avoid Adrian’s gaze. The almost-kiss lingers in my mind, rattling me more than I want to admit. Every now and then, I see him out of the corner of my eye staring at me, but I pretend not to notice because I feel conflicted about it.
Before I can overthink it anymore, I stand. “I should get going.”
Adrian nods. “I’ll see you next Friday.” He says it so casually, completely unaware of the internal panic spiraling through me.
Dr. Whisperer would eat this up if they found out. A reporter cozying up to the controversial doctor she’s been writing about? That would be the talk of the town. And I refuse to be that kind of headline, because then, I can kiss the chance of my promotion goodbye.
Adrian hasn’t even redeemed himself yet.
He hasn’t addressed the issues that damaged his reputation in the first place from his time in the city.
The last thing I need is for people to think I’m biased and undermine my credibility as a journalist. Going to the bar with him is helping him trust me, so I can get his side of the story, nothing more. It’s simply like a business dinner.
I get into my car and roll down the windows, letting the cool air wash over me. My pulse is still beating too fast, my thoughts too scattered. I need to get my shit together before Friday.