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26. The doctor will see you now

26

THE DOCTOR WILL SEE YOU NOW

T he receptionist at the animal hospital shoots me a look when I pay the remaining balance—such a small fee in comparison to what I was initially quoted.

When I ask how they were able to manage to lower the price of the final bill considering how much imaging was done and the kind of procedure they had to do on Ginger, she winks and whispers, “Well, I’m not supposed to say, but just know you have a secret admirer.” She smiles and hands me my receipt as I frown.

Dr. Sloane did this? He covered the cost? Did the work pro bono?

Shit, should I have said yes to the date?

“Is… Is the doctor still here? I’d like to talk to him, if possible.” At least to thank him.

I place Ginger’s carrier on the counter. While my legs and ass are toned from living in a walk-up, I don’t have the upper body strength to lug a twenty-six pound cat everywhere without a break.

“Did the vet tech not give you clear enough instructions for your cat’s post-visit, dear?” she asks, her voice soft. “Because, if so, I can ask her to come back and?—”

“No, no,” I quickly stop her. “She was fantastic. I was just wondering whether the vet was still here, so… so I can thank him?” This is so awkward, but I should at least say thanks. If the initial estimate was a minimum of eight grand, and I only had to pay for less than four-hundred…

She smiles and gives me an I get it now look. “Oh, I see. He should be. He was pulling a double tonight. Covering for a friend. He’s such a nice man.” She gets up from her seat, the fondness in her voice genuine. “Let me get him for you.”

I thank the woman and wait, but set Ginger down on a chair.

After just a few minutes, Dr. Sloane comes out with the receptionist in tow.

“Bridget.” His grin is wide and genuine. His five o’clock shadow is very much present and the bags under his eyes make it obvious he’s been here far longer than he should be. Even so, his eyes seem to light up when he sees me, his whole demeanor perking up.

“Hi, Dr. Sloane. I just wanted to thank you for everything you did for Ginger. For going the extra mile, too.”

I look to the side, checking the other patients in the waiting room or the receptionist aren’t listening in on our conversation. I don’t think cutting every patient a discount is something he can do all the time, so I don’t say it outright. No need to start a riot.

“Honestly, it was no problem. It’s clear you really love Ginger, so I was happy to help.” He looks at her carrier, a fond smile on his face. “And even though she may have given us a little attitude for a moment there, she’s super charming.”

I laugh softly. “Yeah, charming . I don’t know about that, but she’s sure got some personality.”

He smiles and sighs. “So… Have you—” He swallows and clears his throat. “Have you given my proposal any consideration?”

“Your proposal?”

Shit .

His tired smile is hopeful, enthusiastic. Almost as handsome and perfect as Will’s. “The coffee date? I’d love to take you out. It could honestly be a five-minute water one, even. I think I can prove to you I’m not a creep in four, and then we can enjoy the remaining minute planning our next date.” His grin is sexy, his confidence unshakable, and maybe I’d find it all charming if I weren’t so down bad for my best friend, a man who appears to be very okay with our friends-with-benefits situation. With it never evolving into anything more.

And maybe I’ve reached my limit. Maybe I need to follow Will’s advice and stop settling for the silver lining. Because here’s this perfect man—attractive, smart, funny, likes animals—and I’m turning him down because I have feelings for a guy who didn’t care enough to stay the morning after this whole thing happened? Who just disappeared and hasn’t called since, despite knowing how traumatic this whole experience was? Sure, it’s only six am, and he’s probably sleeping or something. But waking up without him after everything that happened, given how close we are, was unacceptable.

It’s clear he’s never going to care for me in the same way I care for him. And it’s also clear I need to start moving on. So why not start with this vet?

And it’s for that reason, and for that reason alone, that I say “How about dinner?”

* * *

Ginger and I spend the whole weekend vegging out, cuddling in bed, watching reruns of our favorite dumpster fire reality TV shows. We indulge in snacks—chocolate for me, cat GoGurts for her—and nap often. We also spend the entire weekend ignoring Will Jacobs’s texts and calls—which proves to be much simpler than I expected. Turns out, outrage is a great motivator.

After scheduling my date with the vet for next weekend, I decide the best way for me to help myself get over Will is to completely cut him out of my life. And while it’s a horrible thing to do, especially without having a conversation about it first, it was even worse of him to disappear for almost twenty-four hours. Which is exactly what happened.

I don’t get a single text or missed call from him until early Sunday morning. Sunday.

By then, I’m still unsure of my decision to go on a date with Dr. Sloane— Declan —the following Friday. But Will’s almost relaxed text message asking me how Ginger was enraged me. So I cut him off.

All week, I’ve been ignoring his texts, sending his emails into my trash bins, and rejecting his calls. I don’t read the messages, and I don’t listen to the voicemails. I know it would be easier to block him, but I still can’t make myself do it. You don’t fall out of love with someone just because you’re angry at them, and while I’m making progress, I’m not able to carve him out of my heart just yet.

It’s difficult and takes nearly every ounce of energy that I have, but I manage to get away with it. I manage to listen to what my heart is telling me: it’s time to move on and let go.

It’s what I keep reminding myself of as I put the finishing touches on my makeup for my date with Dr. Sloane. We’re not going anywhere fancy—just his favorite Mexican place on the Lower East Side—but it’s the first date I’ve been on in almost a year, if not more, and I want to put some effort into it.

When my apartment intercom buzzer goes off, I freak, though. The doctor is ten minutes early, and I am far from done. My hair is still a mess, and I have my left cat eye to complete, which isn’t something you can do in a few seconds. It takes time. Dedication. Complete silence and concentration. Maybe even a prayer here and there. One does not simply slap on a cat eye. Not if we want it sharp enough to kill a man.

With a sigh, I press the buzzer and tell him, “I’m not ready yet, so can I buzz you up? I’m sorry, but I think you’re like ten minutes early!”

He doesn’t reply, but I hear the gate open through the intercom. I unlock my front door and leave it cracked—a risk in this building, but whatever—and run back into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

When I hear the front door open and close, as well as the sound of male footsteps walking into my apartment, I call out, “I’ll be ready in a sec and then we can go!”

“Who are you talking to?”

My hand freezes mid- swish of my liner at the sound of Will Jacobs’s voice. This, of course, results in a cat eye that rivals the mask of any member of The Incredibles team.

I gasp quietly, my whole body tensing.

“What the fuck is he doing here? ” I whisper to myself.

“Uh, you know, your bathroom door is open. And this apartment is kinda small— really small, actually. So even your whispers are pretty audible. And I think you fucking know why I’m here or you wouldn’t be frozen like that, unable to even face me.” It’s clear by his voice that he’s angry with me. And honestly? Who can blame him? I did something really horrible. I ghosted him. That’s not something nice people do.

I haven’t been nice.

I drop the eyeliner on my small counter, completely forgetting about my horrible makeup, and exit the bathroom to find him standing by the door, looking absolutely delicious. He’s in a suit and tie, which makes me believe he came here straight from work.

He’s working late again? On a Friday?

I grimace, wanting to chastise him for the hundredth time for not putting his mental health before work but then realize: Jeez, I’ve got some balls when I’m probably contributing to some of that stress.

“I—I’m sorry. But I can’t talk about this now.”

His lips press together, his hands fisting at his sides. “You can’t talk about this now? Seriously?”

I clear my throat and check the time on the oven, silently begging to universe to somehow keep Dr. Sloane occupied until I can get rid of Will.

“I… I have to finish getting ready.”

Will looks me over slowly, as if drinking me in, wanting to absorb the way I look. Something about the desperation in his eyes makes me want to burn his expression into the side of my brain.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he says in a gust of a breath, like he tried his best to keep it in and failed.

“Thanks. But you need to go.” I clear my throat once. Swallow twice. “I… I have a date.”

He sucks in a breath. The look in his eyes is almost… devastated. But it makes no sense. None of this makes any sense.

“A date? What do you mean you have a date ? With who?”

“With… Dr. Sloane.”

“Who the fuck is—” His eyes widen in realization, the anger and horror clear on his face. “ The fucking vet? The fucking vet who hit on you while I was right fucking there and touched you? He asked you out? And you said yes? To him ?”

Now I’m upset. I put my hands on my hips and take a step toward him, fire running through my veins. “I know it’s hard to believe anyone would want to date me, William. But yes, he did ask me out. And yes, I did say yes.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Why did you say yes? I thought we agreed to do this friends-with-benefits thing exclusively.”

“Well, you disappeared Friday night, and he asked and he was really nice and stuff with everything he did for Ginger, so I said yes. You were gone the next morning without a single word, so I just figured you wouldn’t care.”

“You figured I wouldn’t—? I— I was so exhausted. I had been working like an insane person that entire week—you knew that. Then I had that event—which you also knew about since you were there. And I stayed up all night while you cried yourself to sleep, trying to make sure I heard your phone in case they called. I only got about an hour’s worth of sleep before I had to wake up to run an emergency errand. So I went and did what I had to do, then decided to go home to shower and change—I was still wearing that tux, if you remember—fully intending to check up on you after. I was desperate to know how Ginger was doing and how I could help, but I fell asleep immediately after my shower, as soon as I sat down on my bed for a second. I’ve been working myself down to the bone lately. For Christ’s sake, I was so tired I slept for almost fourteen hours straight and—” He stops mid sentence to take a breath, almost angry. “I didn’t mean to disappear. That was a mistake, which I tried to correct. Yours was intentional. And it’s the second time you pull something like this. The first sign of trouble and you cut and run.”

I press my lips together, unsure whether I believe him. “Fine. I’ll agree that what I did wasn’t nice. But we agreed this would stop once we decided we wanted to see other people or this stopped being fun. This is me wanting to see other people,” I lie.

I don’t know how I get the words out without them shaking even a single time, but they do. They sound like those of a determined, strong woman—the complete opposite of how I feel. Deep down, I know that I’m weak and fragile, because if he pushes just a bit, just the smallest amount, he might be able to convince me to go back to our original arrangement. It would rip me to shreds, but I’d do it. Just to be near him. Just to have any piece of him.

God, I’m pathetic.

He looks at me and narrows his eyes. “Is this you thanking him for taking care of Ginger or you wanting to see other people?”

“I-I—Both? But why does it matter? You and I aren’t—You—And he —Plus, he didn’t just take care of Ginger. He also managed to get them to lower the cost of my bill. Remember that estimate? Well, it went from eight-thousand to almost a total of four-hundred dollars. He was kind enough to do that.”

Will’s nostrils flare, his pupils black. “He fucking told you he was the one who got you a discounted price on her treatment? And that’s why you’re going? Did he make you feel obligated to go on this date to pay him back for his alleged help?” he practically roars, his face redder than I’ve ever seen. “Because you don’t owe that guy a fucking thing, Bridge. You don’t owe anyone anything. Not even if they somehow cover your vet bill.” He wipes a hand over his mouth, eyes a little manic.

I shake my head. “It’s fine. He’s a cool guy and?—”

“You like him?” he cuts me off. “Can you stand there right now and tell me you like him?”

I shrug once. “He’s nice.”

“High praise,” Will deadpans.

I roll my eyes and cross my arms in front of my chest. “He also happens to be successful and handsome and charming and smart and into animals. So.”

“Okay, well, I’m all those things, too. So why not me? Why not me, Bridget?”

I stop breathing and drop my arms. And jaw.

My heart races in my chest, trying to catch up to his words.

“W-What did you just say?”

Will swallows once, eyes wide, the whole world on his shoulders. So beautifully devastated, my love.

He steps toward me and takes my hands in his, kissing each one before speaking. “Why. Not. Me? I’m here. And I have been aching to be yours for fucking months , Bridget Quinn. And five seconds after meeting this guy, you decide he’s the one who gets to break through to your heart? I’ve been trying to chip away at this shield around it, trying to find my way in since the beginning of time, it feels like. And I was fine just being your friend, I think. Friends who fuck was even better. But I can’t be your friend if you’re with someone else. I can’t see you with him or hear about you together and be okay with it. To play second fiddle to some guy who will never get close to deserving you. Because you are just that amazing, Bridget. I can’t see anyone deserving you. Not even me.

“But is that why you ghosted me? Because you decided you liked this guy?” Will’s grip tightens around my hands, desperate, like he’s afraid if he lets go I might float away. For good. “Am I so easy to dismiss?”

“Will,” I whisper, “what are you talking about? Of course you’re not. You’re the most important person in my life,” I confess.

“Then why the ghosting?”

“I… don’t know.” It’s all I can manage to say, the storm of emotions moving too quick and wild for me to pin down a single thought.

He stares at me quietly for a moment, his eyes bloodshot as he rolls his lips before nodding once. “Okay,” he says, dropping my hands. “Okay. If that’s what you want, I’ll let you go. I just want you to be happy.”

“Wait, what is even happening? Can we go back to what you said before? What do you mean you’ve been trying to chip away at my… what was it? The shield around my heart? What do you mean?” I realize my voice has reached a tone of desperation that is almost comedic, but his words don’t make sense because… “Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying… Do you have feelings for me?”

Will rolls his eyes at me. Classic. “I just told you I did. And I’ve been telling you for months. In actions and in words. Yes , I fucking have feelings for you. Of course I fucking do. I am desperate for you, Bridget Quinn.” His hands come to my waist, fingers digging into me in that way they always do when he holds me there.

Desperation is such an accurate choice of words to describe the pain and yearning of being with Will but not being with Will.

“I… but I do, too. Have feelings for you. And I’m desperate for you, too.” The stinging in my eyes becomes nearly unbearable before I feel the first tear on my cheek.

“Then what the fuck are we doing, Bridget?” he asks, slinking his arms around my waist, pulling me in so tightly I can barely even breathe. Though maybe it isn’t the way he’s holding me that’s keeping oxygen from flowing into my lungs. Maybe it’s the fact that my heart is so full there’s simply no room for it in my chest cavity. Maybe this love has grown so large there’s no room for anything else.

“I don’t know what we’re doing. But I know what I don’t want to do.” I sniff, my hands traveling up his shoulders to link my fingers behind his neck.

“And what’s that?” He kisses away a tear, and then another.

“I don’t want to be friends-with-benefits anymore. Or friends. I mean, we can be friends—I think it would be nice to be friends with your partner. But I don’t want us to be together as anything other than being a couple. I want to be your girlfriend and I want you to be my boyfriend.”

It’s a risk to use the proper terminology before we’ve even been on a single official date, but in the spirit of not settling and being overtaken by the joy of this moment, I decide going for broke is the only way to play this. If there ever were a time to put it all out on the table, it’s now.

For a split second, my stomach tightens in knots, and the fear of rejection begins to wash over me. But then, Will’s smile turns into something truly blinding, filling every corner of my being with light.

“I wholeheartedly agree with everything you just said.” He leans down to press his lips to mine, holding me tighter than he ever has before.

When I sink into the best kiss of my life, I realize he doesn’t know I’m not going anywhere. The way he grips me to him is almost like he’s scared someone will snatch me away from him any second now—or that I’ll run away. But Will doesn’t realize that this is it for me—I’m already his. And I can’t let him go a second longer without him knowing. So I tell him with the way I press myself into him. I tell him by reaching up higher on my tiptoes to get to his lips better. I tell him by moaning when I feel his tongue swipe against mine and his dick harden against my stomach.

He moves down to kiss my jaw, trailing kisses down my neck, pushing my top’s strap off my shoulder, exposing it so he can nibble and kiss there.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans into my skin, his voice gravelly as he speaks. “You’re always so fucking beautiful, but tonight is one of those nights where it hurts to even look at you.”

Suddenly, I realize something in horror. Will moves back up to kiss me again, but I stop him with a hand against his lips. “I have a date tonight.”

He pulls back, expression fierce. “What? No, you fucking don’t. Unless it’s with William Jacobs and it involves a bed and lots of sex and great takeout, no you fucking don’t. You need to cancel.”

I sigh. “ Obviously I don’t want to go on this date with Declan?—”

“Dr. Sloane.” he interrupts, clearly not enjoying the familiarity.

“—and I’m obviously going to cancel when he gets here but he’s due any minute and?—”

The buzzer on my intercom goes off, and we freeze. I look up into Will’s eyes, into the pool of melted dark chocolate I could throw myself into, and he stares back down at me.

“You need to go, Will. You can’t be here.”

“If you think for one fucking second I’m going to be okay with this, then?—”

I sigh. “Of course you won’t. Because I wouldn’t either. I just need to…” I begin to pull away, and for a moment, his grip tightens, unwilling to let go. But after half a second, he reconsiders. “I need you to leave, take a couple of walks around the block. When you come back, he’ll be gone, and we’ll be ready to start something new. The right way.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone here with some other guy and?—”

“Will.” I peck him once in an effort to silence him, and it works. “You were right. I don’t owe him this date, but I do owe him some respect. As a human and as the man who saved Ginger’s life.” We both turn to look at my cat, who watches our interaction from her seat. “I am not going to do this in front of you. It wouldn’t be fair to him.”

Will exhales deeply once and nods. “It gets harder to leave you the more I know you, is all.”

I smile and kiss him on the cheek. “Ditto.”