Chapter 19
LILY
I tug my locker open, swapping my scrubs for jeans and the softest T-shirt I own, grateful today’s shift kept me busy without tipping into chaos.
So that I had no time to focus on anything but my patients.
I sign out of the hospital’s secure messaging app and shut my locker, heading out.
The ER is calmer now, a lull settling in between the afternoon rush and evening storm.
I weave past a med cart being restocked, already mentally checked out, when a familiar figure walks in through the sliding doors at the other end of the hall.
Josh—clean-shaved and giving off strong, I’m-too-sexy-for-my-shirt vibes.
He is standing at the main entrance, looking stupidly attractive in worn jeans and a white, snug T-shirt. He’s scanning the nurses’ station, searching for someone while holding a gigantic bouquet—an explosion of sunflowers and wild sprigs of lavender so enormous it hides half his face.
Relief slams into me first—he’s here, upright, whole, alive—chased by an attraction strong enough to bring me to my knees, and right behind it comes this longing that sits deep in my stomach and radiates outward.
For one delusional moment, I imagine the flowers are for me, especially when Josh catches sight of me in the crowd and his face lights up. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and a wide grin spreads on his face, as if running into me was the best thing that happened to him today.
I try not to drool as I approach him, but it’s hopeless. He looks too good, shower-steamed and smelling of soap. While I am at the end of a shift and didn’t even comb my hair in the locker room.
“So,” I say, nodding at the floral extravaganza, “did you rob a florist, or is this your subtle way of making every husband in the waiting area look bad?”
“What a coincidence running into you, Nurse Finnigan.” He glances down at the flowers, looking sheepish, as he shifts the bouquet to one arm. “I made a promise to a girl this morning. Figured I should keep it.”
Emily. The girl from the car accident, the femoral artery laceration. My chest does another inconvenient somersault; naturally, he’s the one who saved her, the guy every terrified girl would remember as her hero.
“Emily’s been moved from the ER,” I tell him, surprised by the hollow feeling in my chest. Of course the flowers aren’t for me. Why would they be? We’re just friends. Neighbors. Whatever label keeps this situation contained.
Josh’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “How did you know I was talking about Emily?”
“She wouldn’t stop talking about the angel who rescued her and promised her flowers,” I explain. “Not even while she was losing half her blood volume.”
“Is she okay now?”
“Yeah, they patched her up.”
“Can I visit her?” He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand like he’s not sure he should be asking. “I didn’t know her last name, thought I’d start at the ER, see if anyone could tell me which room she’s in.”
I could point him to the information desk.
I should keep a thousand miles from this reunion.
But some masochistic part of me wants to prolong our interaction.
Walk together through these corridors I was eager to leave not two seconds ago and pretend, just for a few minutes, that my heart doesn’t slingshot between regret and hope every time I see him.
“Let me check where they moved her,” I offer, unable to resist either the good deed or the man doing it. “Penny has ballet practice today. I can take you to see Emily.”
Josh’s grin widens. “Lead the way.”
I check the tablet at the nurses’ station and give him a more punctual update. “She’s in the pediatric wing, room 304. Her mother’s still in the ICU, but she’s stable. The surgeon repaired Emily’s artery this morning. Both her and her mother are going to be fine.”
“That’s great,” Josh says, and the genuine relief in his voice makes me like him even more. Another alarm bell to ignore.
I lead him through a shortcut by radiology, swiping my badge to unlock a few limited-access doors.
“You stabilized her at the scene?” I ask as we step into an empty elevator.
He nods, lowering the flowers so they don’t hit the ceiling. “Yeah. The seat frame had her pinned, keeping pressure on the wound until we freed her. Then it became a race against time.”
He goes for an easy tone, but shadows dance behind his eyes. It’s the same darkness I’ve seen in the mirror after tough cases. The one that says: I almost lost this one.
“Well, you won the race. Good job, Lieutenant.”
He gives a low, reluctant grunt—possibly self-conscious?—right as the elevator doors open, stealing the moment. He is so darn cute.
At Emily’s room, I stop at the threshold, letting Josh go in alone.
He’s hers now, and I don’t want to intrude.
I still watch from the hall as her face transforms when she sees Josh walking in with his field of sunflowers and lavender.
Her eyes widen, her mouth forms a perfect ‘O’ of surprise, and then she’s beaming.
It’s a scene that would break the internet if someone took a video.
“You came!” Emily squeals, her voice carrying into the hallway. She’s propped up in bed, her right leg elevated and wrapped in bandages, an IV still running into her arm, but her face has color now. Life.
“I promised, didn’t I?” Josh moves to her bedside and presents the flowers with a theatrical bow. “Sunflowers and lavender, as requested.”
“They’re perfect,” Emily breathes, reaching out to touch a sunflower petal with reverent fingers. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I always keep my word,” Josh tells her with such gentleness it’s almost invasive—to my heart, to my soul.
I lean in the doorway, wondering why I do this to myself. Why I hover at the edge of something I won’t let myself have, infatuated with a man I’ve decided I can’t keep. It’s a peculiar form of self-torture, watching Josh be everything I want and don’t want.
“Mom’s going to be okay,” Emily tells him, her smile wobbling. “They said she has to stay in the ICU for a while, but her brain scans look good. My dad’s gone to see her now.”
“That’s fantastic news.” Josh places the flowers on the windowsill where they’ll get plenty of light. “And how about you?”
“The doctor said I can start physical therapy in a few weeks.” Emily nods. “And I’ll have a cool scar, which”—she lowers her voice—“is kind of awesome. Zack Fisher never talks to me at school, but I bet he will once he hears I almost died.”
Josh laughs, and I smile, too. It’s amazing how resilient kids are.
“What about you?” Emily says with teenage bluntness. “Are you single?”
“Err…” Josh glances my way—something complicated passing through—before answering, “Yeah. I am.”
Emily winks. “You won’t be much longer if you always bring bouquets this beautiful.”
Josh glances at me again, more questions hanging between us. “I wish flowers were all it took.”
A flush of heat creeps up my neck. Am I reading too much into this? Suddenly, I find the floor tiles fascinating.
They chat for a few more minutes as Emily talks about art class and Josh listens.
He’d be a great step-parent for Penny. My brain goes there uninvited. But I refuse to follow.
Then a nurse appears, announcing it’s time to check Emily’s vitals.
“I should let you rest,” Josh says, backing toward the door. “And Emily, you don’t need a scar to impress a boy. If he doesn’t like you for who you are, he’s not worth your time.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Emily blushes, suddenly looking very young.
Josh nods, smiling and waving goodbye.
He joins me at the doorway, and we walk back together to the elevator.
“You’re good with kids,” I observe, pressing the down button.
He shrugs. “They’re easier than adults. They just tell you what they think.”
“True,” I agree, reminded of Penny’s unfiltered observations that leave me mortified in public. “You made her day with those flowers.”
“It was the least I could do,” he says as we step into the elevator. “She was so brave at the scene. Kept talking to me about art and school even though she was terrified.”
The floor numbers count down with rhythmic beeps, too fast, too slow? I don’t even know. When we reach the lobby and head toward the main exit, Josh turns to me.
“Since we’re here, should we remove my stitches?”
I glance at my watch. I have time to fix him now. It would take ten minutes, tops. The logical, efficient thing would be to do it at the hospital where I have the supplies and proper lighting.
But then I’d have no reason to see him later.
“I need to go pick up Penny now,” I lie. “But you can stop by our place later if you want, and I’ll take care of it then.”
He nods, not questioning my excuse. “Sounds good. Six thirty work for you?”
“Perfect,” I say, and hope my face doesn’t betray how eagerly I’m looking forward to it.