20. Not a bad night to be Katherine Lennox.”
"Not a bad night to be Katherine Lennox.”
Kat
It’s been a week since our victorious trivia night, and I still get butterflies when I think about that moment. I’ve seen Archie a few times since then, both at his place and at the gym, where we are now. Well, technically we’re at the pool, cooling down with some post-workout laps.
“Only you can fit in a full workout before a twenty-four-hour shift,” he says as we reach the end of the pool, both panting slightly.
I smile, gripping the edge. “Believe it or not, it helps. Gets my body ready and energised for the day. Of all people, you should know, Mister Professional Athlete. I’m pretty sure most footballers don’t complete a full workout at home before training.”
He winces. “Touché. But I have a lot of pent-up energy to burn, what can I say? Race you back?”
“Really?” I feint, raising my brows and pretending to hesitate—before taking off like a torpedo.
I hear a splash behind me, followed by a very dramatic, “Oh, come on!” but I keep swimming, determined not to let him win again. He won the first three laps already—I’m not letting him have this one.
I reach the shallow end just half a second before him, victorious.
“Yes!” I pump my fist in the air.
“You know that one doesn’t count, right?” he says, slicking his hair back, breathless as he props a hand on his hip. The water only reaches his waist, which gives me an uninvited but not entirely unwelcome view of his glistening abs.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say in my sweetest voice, turning to climb the stairs out of the pool.
But before I get there, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me back in with a splash. We’re both submerged, the cool water enveloping us.
“Archie!” I sputter as I surface, laughter trickling out of me.
I try to swim away, but he catches up easily. With a mischievous grin, he scoops me up, and before I can protest, he tosses me into the air. I break the surface with another splash, laughing as I come up for air, hair plastered to my face.
“Payback is coming,” I warn, lunging at him and sending a wave of water into his face.
Seconds later, we’re both breathless, drenched and ridiculous, as we laugh and splash each other like kids. I’m about to send another wave over him when he calls for a truce.
“Is this a ruse?” I ask, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I swear it’s not.” He wades through the water to me, his eyes never leaving mine.
When he tucks a strand of wet hair behind my ear, his hand lingers there, his thumb brushing softly against my cheek.
Then, his lips meet mine—and just like that, I forget all about my carefully laid-out plan for revenge and melt into his steady arms.
It’s barely past six p.m., and I already feel like I’ve lived five days in one.
Peeling off my surgical cap, I drop the chart I’m holding onto the nurses’ station with a sigh. My scrubs are sticking to me in all the worst places, my hair is a mess of sweat and static, and I’m fairly certain I haven’t eaten since I scarfed down that granola bar at around six in the morning.
But at least the patient is stable. He needed an emergency splenectomy after a nasty car crash—torn vessels, litres of blood loss, the works. But we got him back from the brink. That’s what matters.
I lean against the counter, trying to remember whether I’ve had water today, when something shifts in the corner of my eye.
I turn instinctively toward the waiting room, and my heart stutters. Archie is sitting in one of the plastic chairs by the vending machine.
I speed-walk in his direction, my stomach clenching as I try not to imagine the worst.
“What are you doing here? Are you okay?” I blurt out as I reach him, breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my heart.
His head lifts, and his face softens the second he sees me.
“Hey,” he says, standing up. “There you are.”
I scan his body, but I don’t see any signs of injury. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” he quickly replies. “One of your colleagues said I could wait here for you. I come bearing food, that’s all,” He gestures to the two brown paper bags on the chair next to him, and as he lifts them, the smell hits me—something greasy, glorious, and unmistakably indulgent.
My stomach growls so loudly I almost wince.
“I know you don’t always have time to eat,” he adds. “And I wanted to make sure you had something in your stomach. Brought your favourite combo: burger from Shake Shack and chips from Five Guys.”
I stare at him, then at the bags, then back at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” He scratches the back of his head. “Have you already eaten? ’Cause I c—”
“No, I haven’t,” I say, my arms dropping. “Thanks. That’s very kind of you.”
“My pleasure.” He grins. “Anyway, I won’t bother you much longer. Just make sure you spare five minutes to eat it, yeah?”
He hands me the bags, then turns to walk away.
“Wait,” I say, clutching the bags just a little too hard. “I actually can take a break now. Eat with me?”
He turns around, the shadow of a smile on his face. “You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then lead the way, Doctor Lennox,” he says with a sheepish grin.
Taking my dinner break with Archie is a lot more entertaining than eating by myself or with my exhausted colleagues. He makes me laugh between bites, tells me absurd locker room stories, and somehow manages to make this short respite feel like a real break.
We’re finishing the last of the chips when my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen, and a groan escapes me.
“Shoot. I totally forgot I was supposed to go see my mum during my break.”
Archie’s brows lift. “Wait, your mum’s here? I thought the procedure was outpatient?”
“It was supposed to be,” I say, brushing my oily fingers off on a napkin. “But the doctor wasn’t happy with how the flap was perfusing—probably an early sign of venous congestion—so he decided to keep her overnight for monitoring. Just to be safe.”
His expression softens with concern. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Stable and milking the situation for all it’s worth.” I grab the last chip from the bag. “She’ll probably be released tomorrow morning, but you know her—she thrives on attention.” I sigh, standing up. “Anyway, sorry to cut this short. Wish me luck.”
“Actually,” he asks, clearing the table. “Do you mind if I join you? I’d love to say hello to Gilly.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Absolutely.” He throws the wrappers away. “I love your mum.”
I ignore the obscene flutter of butterflies in my belly and chuckle instead. “Oh, boy. She’ll be delighted.”
Archie insists on getting her something from the gift shop, so I buy her a teddy bear while he opts for their biggest flower bouquet in the store.
When we enter the room, she’s sprawled in her hospital bed, checking her phone, and my breath catches in my throat. It’s strange seeing her like this—without a full face of makeup or a mountain of jewellery, just a single shawl wrapped around her like a security blanket. She looks... small.
“Ah, there she is,” she says, lighting up when she spots me. When her eyes land on Archie, she gasps theatrically. “Oh my stars! What a lovely surprise. If I’d known, I’d have freshened up.”
“You look gorgeous,” Archie says, stepping forward to give her a careful hug before extending the bouquet to her. “These are for you, Gilly. Hope you’re feeling better soon.”
She beams at the generous arrangement. “Thank you, darling. You’re such a treasure.”
“And I got you this cute bear,” I add, placing the cuddly toy on her side table before leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“You kids are the best. Really. Thank you.”
“So, how are you, Mum?” I ask, automatically reaching for the chart at the end of her bed and flipping through the notes. “You look good. Not too groggy after the anaesthesia?”
“Oh, Dr. Mistry said I handled it like a champ,” she says proudly, holding up a weak fist and offering it to Archie for a bump. He doesn’t miss a beat, meeting her halfway.
I smile, tucking the chart back in place. “Told you it would be fine. You could have gotten this taken care of weeks ago.”
“Katherine, please. This wasn’t a manicure. I was cut open and sedated. It’s serious business,” she says, pressing a hand dramatically to her bandaged neck. “Thankfully, Dr. Mistry told me I’ll barely have a scar.”
“If you do,” Archie says with a grin, “I’ll buy you a few extra shawls to cover it up.”
“Oh, you cheeky fellow,” she says, laughing louder than she should.
The door swings open, and the nurse hustles in with Mum’s food. “Oops, I’m sorry,” she says with an apologetic frown. “I didn’t know you had company, Gilly.”
“Hi,” I wave. “I’m Katherine, her daughter, and this is, um, Archie. I work in trauma. Sorry for the late visit. We’ll head out so she can rest.”
“That’s okay.” She smiles, her eyes skimming over Archie’s body shamelessly, and suddenly, I want to take her down, right here on the hospital floor.
“Well, we won’t bother you much longer,” Archie says, patting my mum’s knee. “Get well soon, Gilly.”
“Thank you again for coming.” Her eyes are bright and a little watery.
I kiss her again, then follow Archie toward the door.
“Wait—Kat, come back for a sec,” Mum calls just as the nurse sets her tray down. Her voice drops an octave, falling into serious-mum mode. “You hold on tight to that man, do you hear me? He’s a gem.”
I glance at the nurse, who is one hundred percent listening in.
“Yeah, okay. Bye, Mum,” I mutter, already backing out of the room.
Once I reach the hallway, Archie walks me back to my floor before kissing me goodbye. It’s a quick kiss, but I know the mere thought of it will carry me through to the end of my shift.
Not to mention that he actually brought me dinner, and even remembered my favourite fast-food combo. And he’s always so sweet with my mum…
“Sooo,” Jana’s voice perks up behind me as I return to the nurses’ desk. She’s sorting through paperwork, a gleam in her eyes. “You’re getting food delivery from hot footballers now, huh? Not a bad night to be Katherine Lennox.”
Rolling my eyes, I grab my next patient’s chart. “Shut up. He was just being nice. I told you, it’s casual.”
I turn on my heel and start walking away.
“Darling,” she calls after me. “‘Casual’ ended when he showed up with two fast food orders just to please you.”
I keep walking, pretending I didn’t hear her, but blast it—she might be right. I am falling for Archie in a very uncasual way, and that is a real problem.