Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Nori
I’d better be having a nightmare.
I can’t actually be sprawled on the ground in the middle of the courtyard, can I? I was feeling pretty proud of myself after a few good laps around the building. Now I’m bleeding from both my palms and kneecaps.
Apparently I can’t even walk properly.
“Are you all right?” Cash lets the bike clatter onto the walkway, then he drops down beside me. “Let me help you up.”
“I’ll be fine,” I groan, but Cash shifts into helper mode anyway. He lifts me to my feet and props me up as I hobble over to the fountain. It’s a three-tiered model, with water bubbling from the top down to an enormous limestone base. I take a seat on the ledge to survey the results of my clumsiness.
Both my knees are scraped up, and blood streams down my shins. My palms aren’t much better. They’re bleeding less, but tiny bits of gravel are embedded under the skin. As Cash gently examines the parts of me that hit the ground, the heat from his touch matches the heat scorching my face. I suck in a breath, and he winces.
“I don’t think anything’s broken or sprained,” he says. “Am I hurting you?”
“No,” I rush to say. “But you should go.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you like this.”
“You said there’s a kid waiting for you in the OR.”
“The anesthesiologist has to put him under, then the approach will take a while. They know my equipment’s already there. I’ve got a little time.” He frowns at the blood that’s about to reach the tops of my socks.
“So much for my new white Vans.” I press out a snort.
“I have a first aid kit in my apartment, but …” He glances up at the third floor of the building, which might as well be ten miles away, considering I’m about to leave my DNA all over the courtyard. “Hold on.” He drops to a squat and gently tugs off my shoes and socks. My feet are always extra sensitive after they’ve been stuck inside shoes, and this moment is no different. The stroke of his hands across my bare heels sends a tremor up my calves. My knees twitch, and I jerk my feet away.
“Sorry,” he grunts.
“It’s not you,” I assure him, but I don’t think he hears me. He’s too busy fisting the neckline of his T-shirt and dragging the whole thing up over his head. For the record, I had no idea the level of perfection he’s achieved under his clothes.
Rippling abs take up half his torso, split by grooves so deep, his muscles have muscles. Higher up are a set of impressive pecs. No wonder he was able to hold me and the bike up at the same time. If I weren’t already sitting down, I would’ve fallen to the ground all over again. The sight of this man shirtless takes my breath away.
All of it.
No breath left behind .
“What are you doing?” I gasp.
“We need to wash out these cuts.” He reaches behind me to dip his shirt into the fountain. “Otherwise, they could get infected.” He squeezes the air bubbles from the fabric as water absorbs into the cotton. “We can do a better job once we’re inside,” he says. “For now, though, we don’t want to track blood through the building.”
“ You don’t have to worry about any of this,” I say, dizzy from the view.
“Too late.” As he wrings the water from his shirt onto my legs, the scent of laundry detergent floats up between us. Almost instantly, the pain that had been radiating off my kneecaps begins to dissipate.
Maybe this fountain really is magic .
He dunks his shirt back into the water and douses me again. As fresh rivulets run down my legs, he tends to my cuts, gently removing the surface grime and gravel. “Let’s look at those palms now,” he says. “Hold your hands out for me.”
I do as he commands.
He takes both my hands to examine them, and adrenaline surges through my body. Pieces of dirt are embedded under my skin, so he uses his shirt to dab at the scrapes.
At least we didn’t get any blood in the fountain. That’s the good news. The bad news is that his shirt—which had been a perfect shade of baby blue—now looks like evidence from a crime scene. In a court of law, I’d be found guilty of murdering Cash’s clothing.
Wonderful.
I draw in a shaky breath. “Your shirt. It’s ruined.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He drops it on the ground, and we both look down at the puddle surrounding my feet.
“I really should clean up this mess, though,” I say.
Is that what you’re concerned about, Nori ?
Or are you afraid Cash Briggs is making your heart do leapfrogs all over your insides?
“I’ll just grab a bucket from the supply room and we can dilute this,” he says. “The excess water will run down the drains.”
He rises to his feet, and I lift my chin to meet his gaze. There’s an intensity there I imagine comes from serving people in the OR all day long—from wanting to be a part of the healing. But unlike East, Cash is tending to me like I’m an adult. Or maybe he’s not doing anything differently than my brother ever did. Maybe what’s different is the way Cash makes me feel .
Like a woman.
“They’re expecting you at the hospital,” I rush to say. “And you’ve already done so much for?—”
“Nori!” a voice calls out. My gaze flicks to the farthest archway, where Hayden’s emerging from the lobby. I make a move to stand, and Cash reaches for my arm, helping me up. Meanwhile, Hayden crosses the courtyard, her focus bouncing from me to Cash— shirtless Cash.
When she reaches us, she takes in the puddle, the bike, and my bloody knees. “What happened ?”
“Oh, you know. Just me being me.” I laugh nervously. For some reason I feel like a kid with her hand caught in a cookie jar. “Hayden, this is Cash. Cash, this is my best friend, Hayden. She’s also my roommate.”
Hayden tilts her head. “Nice to meet you Cash. Finally.” She puts a little extra pepper on the word finally .
Cash bobs his head. “Nice to meet you too. Sorry it took so long.”
“It did, didn’t it?” Hayden hikes a brow. “How long has it been? Two months now?”
“Sounds about right,” I say, answering before he can. Then I widen my eyes in an unspoken signal for Hayden not to give away how much we’ve talked about Cash since he moved in. “Soooo, what’s up, roomie ?” I chirp.
I’m the picture of nonchalance.
Yep. That’s me.
“You left your phone inside,” she says. “When I got home from work, your texts were going off. Then somebody called, and I started to think there might be some kind of emergency, so I answered.”
“Oh, no.” My stomach lurches. “Was it East?”
“It was Jemma Lane, from Swipe Rite.” Hayden passes my phone over, and the lurch in my stomach morphs into a wrench.
“Swipe Rite?” Cash squints. “Isn’t that a dating app?”
I nod, as a thread of regret snakes around my heart. I wish he’d already left for the hospital.
“So you finally joined, huh?” Hayden’s mouth goes crooked.
“Nice try, acting surprised.” I puff out a breath. “You’re the one who gave them my name.”
“Don’t be mad.” She throws her palms together like she’s begging for forgiveness. “But when I saw their all-call for singles, I couldn’t resist tossing your hat into the ring. And I figured Jemma would do a better job of convincing you than I could.”
I swallow despite the tightness in my esophagus. “You know they only want me because I live here. At The Serendipity. They’re planning to work the whole magic-in-the-building angle.”
“Who cares?” Hayden shrugs. “You might as well use every advantage you’ve got in the pursuit of love. And you are looking for love, aren’t you?” She takes a beat, darting her gaze between Cash and me. “Unless … you two have something going …?”
“NO!” Cash and I both blurt at the same time .
“Whoa. I believe you.” Hayden says this, but the edge of her mouth tilts up. “Anyway.” She nods at my phone. “Jemma was calling because she needs you to check your DMs as soon as possible.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve got your first match!” Hayden does a little hop-and-clap maneuver, and my face begins to heat.
“Already? I didn’t think things would happen so quickly.”
“You can’t go wrong with Swipe Rite,” Hayden sings. “Someone named Adam wants to take you roller skating.”
“Roller skating?” Cash bends down to snatch his bloody T-shirt from the ground. “I hope Adam brings along a first aid kit.”
“Heh.” I snort.
Then my cheeks burst into flames.