Chapter 17
AIDEN
Liliana lifted her martini for a sip. “I can’t believe this is your first time at Triage.”
I twirled the straw in my jalapeno-infused margarita and shrugged. “I’ve been pulling too many hours to get out much.”
Liliana had invited—read: dragged—me to the little bar that the hospital staff liked to frequent. It was right across the street, making it the perfect spot for after-work drinks before heading home.
Historical medical memorabilia covered the walls. Above Liliana’s head, two old posters bracketed a WWII-era stethoscope. The poster on the right advertised laudanum for handling a sleepless baby and the one on the left recommended “massage” for treating female hysteria.
Liliana set down her glass and leaned in. “So if you don’t get out much, where’d you find that man of yours? You’ve only been in town a few weeks. You’re a quick worker.”
I shook my head. “It’s not like you think.”
“What do I think?”
“I didn’t go out and meet him. He’s my roommate,” I said. “And my brother’s best friend.”
Liliana laughed in delight and slapped her hand over my forearm. “Ohhh, you bad boy. It’s all making sense now.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Forbidden love.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not even close.”
“Meaning?”
“Flynn fell in love with his boss’s little brother.”
Her eyes widened. “No shit?”
“No shit.” I laughed as I bent to slurp margarita through my straw. “So, he can’t say shit about me and his friend shacking up if he finds out. It’s not about that.”
She sat back, eyeing me over the rim of her glass. “Okay, I can see that. Is it serious, then?”
“It can’t be.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I’m only here for the year, you know. I’m aiming for a residency in Baltimore or Cleveland. It’s temporary at best, and besides, I can’t afford to get distracted.”
She chuckled. “Aiden, you’re the most focused person I’ve ever met. No guy is going to sidetrack you.”
I grimaced. “It’s happened before. Why do you think I’m here?”
“Because the fates thought you’d benefit from my sparkling wit?”
I laughed. “I like that explanation better than mine.”
She crossed her arms on the table, brow furrowed. “What’s that?”
“My ex wanted to reconcile. We’d broken up over my brother. Tyler was a dick about Flynn’s situation. Called him a murderer and said of course he deserved to be in prison. That they’d let him out too soon.”
She gaped. “But surely he knew Flynn was protecting you? It was essentially self-defense!”
“Well, he’s a hard-liner when it comes to crime and punishment.
No excuses. So, that’s why we split. He came back late last year, wanting to ‘fix’ things.
” I used air quotes because Tyler hadn’t really wanted to fix anything—except maybe me.
“Gave me a nice story about how he’d been thoughtless and hadn’t seen things from my perspective. ”
She nodded. “All true.”
“Right? Except then, after I’d given him a second chance and let him back into my life, I invited him to meet my brother, and he flat-out refused. Said he understood my feelings, but he couldn’t be around a man like that. A man like that.” I huffed out an aggrieved breath. “I got seriously pissed.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“We got into a huge fight, and it brought up a lot of shitty baggage for me. My brother never would have been in prison if not for me. I called him that night and asked him to come rescue me. It was my fault.”
“Oh, Aiden…”
I discarded my straw and picked up my margarita to gulp the rest. “Anyway, I totally spiraled. I needed to be perfect to get the matches I wanted, because it was my fault Flynn went to prison and the least I could do was show him it was worthwhile, and the pressure just…paralyzed me. I couldn’t focus. I blew it.”
“Aw, honey. You can’t blame yourself like that. You were just a kid, and you were afraid. Of course you called your brother, and of course, he came to help you. That’s what loved ones do. Anyone with any sense at all is going to understand that. You don’t have to prove your worth.”
I inhaled a deep breath and let it out. “I know that logically.”
“Have you gone to therapy?”
I nodded. “Off and on for a few years. It was worse right after he went to prison. He’s been out for almost two years now.”
“He seems happy,” Liliana said. “At least, from what you’ve told me about him.”
“He is. He loves Bailey. But…he carries guilt about it. I know he always will.”
“And so will you,” Liliana said, “but that doesn’t mean you have to be miserable. Case in point, this hot roommate of yours. Not all distractions are bad.”
I laughed. “Not this again.”
“I’m just saying, don’t deny yourself a good thing. You deserve to be happy, too. Like your brother.”
We finished our drinks and walked back over to the hospital parking lot, chatting about Liliana’s irritation with the charge nurse she was working with the next day.
“I won’t be back in surgery until Friday,” Liliana said. “Will I see you at the clinic before then?”
“I’ve got to stay on top of my research hours, but I think I can swing by Wednesday evening.”
“Don’t overextend yourself, Aiden. If you don’t have the time—”
“No, I do,” I said quickly. “I left a message for Larry Schumacher to come in and see me. He’s been cagey about picking up his prescription.”
She sighed. “He always is. Okay. See you later, babe. Just make sure to leave a little time for that roommate of yours.” She winked.
Luckily, I could burn my candle at both ends and still have time to hook up with Knight. That was one of the benefits of sleeping with my roommate.
I headed home. Usually, Knight had the Redemption Road guys over for a few beers on Mondays, but when I pulled into the drive, the porch was empty.
Knight’s bike was in the driveway, though, so he had to be home.
My heart quickened, and I huffed with annoyance at the anticipation that immediately flooded my system. I shouldn’t be this excited to see the guy I saw every morning and evening—who’d taken to sleeping in my bed because that was casual—but my biology didn’t want to listen to my brain’s warnings.
I let myself in, catching the lingering scent of onions and peppers.
Knight sat on the sofa with a plate of fajitas in his lap. The TV was on, but he didn’t seem to be watching it.
“Hey,” I said. “No Redemption Road guys tonight?”
He swallowed his bite and reached for the beer bottle on the coffee table. “We went over to Hayworth earlier. Hauled Tex to his meeting.”
“Yeah? That went okay?”
“Eh.” He picked up his plate and went to the kitchen. “Let’s just say it went.”
I leaned against the breakfast bar, watching him fill a couple of tortillas with grilled chicken, peppers, onions, and mushrooms.
He paused. “You like mushrooms, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” I eyed his plate, still on the counter. “Wait, are you making those for me? I thought you were getting seconds.”
“Of course it’s for you. You haven’t eaten, have you?”
“Well, no.”
“Figured as much.” He placed the fajitas on a second plate he must have taken down before I even arrived and handed it over to me. “You want a drink with that?”
“You don’t have to feed me all the time,” I protested. “I can make a sandwich.”
“The food’s already made,” Knight said.
“Yeah, but you could save this for lunch tomorrow,” I said. “I don’t feel right about eating your groceries.”
“So, I’ll use your groceries next time,” he said without missing a beat. The guy was so easygoing he made it difficult to kick up a fuss.
Knight pulled open the fridge. “All we’ve got is beer or water. I could mix up a margarita?”
“Just water. I already had drinks with Liliana after work.”
He nodded and pulled out a bottle of water. I waited while he topped up his plate with the seconds I’d expected him to get, along with extra jalapenos and hot sauce that he’d thankfully left off mine, then followed him to the living room.
We had the table, but we usually ate in front of the TV, anyway. I did a double take when I looked at the screen.
“Is that Prison Break?”
“Yep. You know it?”
“I watched it years ago.” I hesitated. “I wouldn’t think you’d enjoy watching shows about prison.”
“Needed a reminder,” he said before taking a big bite of fajita. The fumes wafted from his plate, spicy enough to make my eyes burn.
I picked up my first stuffed tortilla. “Did something happen today?”
He chewed and ate, more pensive than usual.
I let him take his time. It wasn’t like we were divulging our deepest, darkest secrets to each other.
We usually opted for more fun ways to take our minds off our problems. But there was a tiny part of me—the part that Liliana had poked at—that wanted him to talk to me.
It was better if I didn’t give that any weight, so I changed the subject.
“I think I met Hollywood’s ex last weekend.”
Knight blinked. “What? How?”
“The how isn’t important.” HIPAA would frown on me talking about patients. “We just crossed paths. Her name was Carrie Anderson. She had a little girl named Ruby.”
“Shit, yeah, that’s his daughter. He hasn’t seen her except from a distance.”
“Well, she’s adorable,” I said. “Chubby cheeks. Big blue eyes. Cute pigtails.”
Knight chuckled. “You should tell Holly. He could use some good news about now.”
“Unfortunately, Mom was not happy when I mentioned his name,” I said. “That part isn’t such great news. She didn’t seem to want him even mentioned in front of Ruby.”
“That’s too bad.” Knight took another sip of beer. “It’s not surprising, though. I’m just glad that I didn’t have anyone to hurt when I went to prison.”
“No one?” I asked hesitantly.
He shook his head, smiling wryly. “Burned all my bridges long before that day. Hell, I thought I was helping someone, even as I did all the wrong shit. That’s my problem. I don’t know when to fucking quit while I’m ahead.”
There was a dark edge to his tone that nagged at me. “Something happen with Tex today?”
“Not with him. With me, I guess. I’m just falling back into bad habits I don’t like.”
“Want to tell me?”