9. Zoe
Zoe
I ’m leaning over the nurses’ station, squinting at the latest bloodwork results for a patient admitted last night while I was at the gala, when my phone buzzes against my hip. My heart leaps into my throat, and I scramble to fish it out of my lab coat pocket. Disappointment rockets through me when I see the message isn’t from Levi. He’s gone radio silent since last night, and I’m trying not to let the lack of so much as a quick text get to me today, even though the sequel less than twenty-four hours ago was hotter than the original, which, until it happened, I didn’t think was possible.
I swipe to reveal Alex’s text. It’s a question about dinner on Friday.
I type a quick response and shoot it off but then bite my lip and tap the edge of my phone against the counter. He didn’t invite Levi, did he? Or did Levi reach out for an invitation?
I scoff at the direction of my thoughts. Levi may be a boastful player, but he’s certainly not going to kiss and tell his best friend when the woman he fucked was that guy’s little sister.
Speaking of last night, heat floods my cheeks at the memories I’ve been replaying like film on an antique projector all day. The way Levi tugged up my dress, the way he filled—
“Dr. Meyer?”
I jump as the charge nurse appears at my elbow.
“The CBC results you requested for 3A,” she says, sliding a printout across the counter.
“Thanks.” I clear my throat and try to focus on the numbers swimming before me rather than thoughts of last night that still have my body humming like a live wire.
It doesn’t work.
I set down the results and refresh my messages. Still nothing from Levi. I press my lips together, chastising myself for being so ridiculous. I’m a grown woman and a board-certified physician. I don’t need validation from a man. Even if said man did things to my body last night I’m not likely to forget. Ever. Even if the man insisted on a proper date Wednesday evening, despite my best efforts to convince him it wasn’t necessary.
But the silence is starting to feel familiar. Uncomfortably so. Unease slithers down my spine, but I push it away as I click back on the thread with Alex. I could ask if he invited Levi to my dinner, but he might question why I’m asking. And I certainly can’t admit Levi’s lack of communication is making my stomach churn. Or that I’m worried I’m falling for his best friend. Or how this time feels different in ways I can’t even explain.
“Code Red! Dr. Meyer, we have a Code Red down in 4B!”
My head snaps up at the redheaded nurse’s panicked voice. She’s sprinting toward me, her scrubs rustling, eyes wide with alarm.
Shit. A fire in the hospital. I shove my phone into my pocket and take off down the hallway. I shouldn’t run, but I can’t help it. I round the corner at full speed, my sneakers squeaking against the linoleum.
But instead of smoke or flames, I skid to a stop at the sight of a six-foot-two dark-haired firefighter standing in the middle of the hallway. Levi’s sporting a navy NYFD T-shirt, which does sinful things to his biceps, and an amused half-smile that makes me want to murder him.
But he’s holding a gorgeous bouquet of colorful flowers in one hand and a bag of my favorite gummy worms in the other.
“What the—” I sputter, my heart racing.
“Hey,” he says.
That’s it.
Hey.
Sure, the single word is suddenly the sexiest word in the English language, but still.
“You can’t call a fake Code Red in a hospital!”
His grin is equal parts sheepish and smug, and he shoots a glance over my shoulder. “Technically, it wasn’t me.”
I spin to find my supposed best friend peeking out from around the corner of the corridor. A half dozen nurses have gathered around and are practically swooning.
“You’re impossible,” I say, turning back to Levi and struggling to fight back a smile as I cross my arms.
He comes closer and leans in to press a kiss to my cheek. “It’s nice to see you again, too.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Saying thank you,” he says with a wink. “And making sure you’re not planning to stand me up Wednesday night.” His voice drops, sending shivers through my limbs. “Plus, I couldn’t wait three whole days to see you again.”
Heat blooms in my chest, but I level him with my I’m a doctor, and this is serious look. “Staging a fake emergency isn’t exactly winning you any brownie points.”
“What about bringing you flowers?” He holds up the bouquet encased in signature White Glove tissue paper. “And your favorite candy?”
So he did remember how much I love the completely artificial yet undeniably satisfying confections that were a staple of my childhood. Either that or Libby clued him in.
“Slightly better,” I admit, accepting them both and trying not to notice how good he smells, like cedar and smoke and trouble.
“So, Wednesday?”
“Wednesday,” I confirm.
“I’ll pick you up at your place at seven.”
“Sounds suspiciously like a real date.”
“That’s the idea, Doc.” He winks and backs toward the exit. “Try not to miss me too much until then.”
I watch him go, drawing a deep breath, my nose filled with the scent of the fragrant flowers as he disappears around the corner. Before I can get back to work, Libby sidles up beside me.
“So, you’re on his side now?” I ask, shooting her a sidelong look.
She lifts a shoulder. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re glowing from the inside out whenever he’s around,” she says softly.
I sink against the wall, the cellophane around the flowers crinkling. “I may be glowing, but I might also be setting myself up for another broken heart when it comes to Levi Reyes.”
“Why don’t you withhold judgment until you see how the date goes?”
She’s right. After all, he showed up here today, bearing gifts, and that’s already more than I got last time the day after we were intimate. I hand Libby the flowers and tear open the bag of gummy worms, plucking two off the top and offering her one. “Did you happen to tell him these are my favorite?”
She shakes her head. “He didn’t ask.”
Levi
The escape room attendant, a gangly kid with shaggy hair and in that awkward voice-cracking phase, fumbles with the keypad lock while explaining the rules. I’d feel sorry for him, but I’m too distracted by Zoe’s proximity in the narrow entrance hallway. The light citrusy scent of her perfume, making me want to bury my face in her neck, ensures I hear little beyond ‘sixty minutes’ and ‘three hints.’
“Looks like you’re trapped with me,” Zoe says as the door clicks shut behind us. Her tone is light, but there’s an edge that cuts deep. “At least for the next hour.”
The accusation lands like a punch to the gut, but I deserve it. After all, I’m the one who disappeared after that night neither of us will ever forget. But tonight’s my chance to apologize. To do everything and anything I can to win her heart and prove I’m not the same man I was back then. To show her there’s more to us than sizzling chemistry, though that’s not a bad start.
“Trust me,” I say, meeting her gaze, “with you is exactly where I want to be.”
A hint of vulnerability flashes across her face before she arches a brow. “So a locked door is the secret to getting you to stick around?”
Ouch. Way to cut right to the chase in the first five minutes of our date, but again, it’s more than warranted.
“I deserve that,” I admit, holding up my hands.
“You do,” she says, crossing her arms. “But…I believe the promise for the date I won was ‘respect and an unforgettable evening.’” She mimics Ashley Adams’ voice from the auction. “Although, given our history, the unforgettable part seems questionable.”
“I remember everything about that night, Zo.”
She scoffs, but I grab her arm, my eyes pleading with her to understand. She stills, and my voice drops. “Every dance. Every conversation. Every laugh. Not just—”
“The hot sex?”
It’s a long beat while I hold her gaze. “Everything.”
A hitch in her breath betrays her composure. “Funny how that crystal-clear memory didn’t translate to the next morning.”
I drop my arm and hang my head. “I know I screwed up. But I can explain. I—”
“Clock’s ticking,” she says, cutting me off. But her voice is softer now. “Plus, I bid on a date, not on a walk down memory lane.”
I catch her wrist gently, turning her to face me. “Promise you’ll give me a chance to explain? Once we get out of here?”
Something shifts in her expression, and suddenly, I read equal parts hope and hesitation in her gorgeous face, but rather than agree, she raises the stakes. “Talk to me when we’ve escaped the room.”
It’s not much, but it’s something, and that’s more than she’s offered before.
“Challenge accepted, Doc.” I grin, releasing her wrist but letting my fingers trail across her palm.
“Then we better get to work.” She tugs her hand away but rubs the spot I was just touching, stopping the second she notices I’m watching the move.
As she spins away with renewed energy, her confidence is both familiar and yet different. Zoe’s not the same woman she was five years ago. She’s feistier, more assured. And damned, if that doesn’t make me want her even more.
I glance at the red digits on the digital clock above the exit, counting down our time. I’ve got fifty-four minutes. Fifty-four minutes to prove I’m not the man I was five years ago, either. Fifty-four minutes to earn back her trust. Then I’ll have the chance to explain why I treated her that way, why I walked away that morning when every cell in my body screamed to stay.
I scan the room, half of which is a full-on replica of Grand Central Station’s main concourse, complete with a smaller-sized version of the iconic information booth. A large model of the Empire State Building stands in the far corner, nearly reaching the ceiling.
“Look for anything out of place,” Zoe says, moving toward the booth. She bends to examine the base, and I force my eyes away from how her fitted jeans hug her curves.
“Remember the way the Empire State Building seemed to stand out in the skyline that night?” I ask, gazing at it.
She straightens and glances over at it, her tone nostalgic. “I never found out why it was lit up purple that night.”
“Me, neither.” Although, right now, more than anything, I wish I knew, so I could tell her.
“Do you see that?” she asks, pointing to the top of the iconic structure. Sure enough, an odd glint of metal is visible, reflecting off a top corner of the model skyscraper. “If only I knew someone tall and strong,” she teases, and for a moment, it’s as if we’re back at Alex’s wedding, her playful flirtation making my heart race.
I flex dramatically before reaching up. Even at my height, I have to stretch, muscles straining as I grab what turns out to be a key. When I sink back down, Zoe’s gaze lingers on the patch of skin where my shirt rode up.
“Like what you see, Doc?”
She doesn’t try to deny it. “Can’t fault a girl for appreciating how fit one of New York’s bravest is. Though from what I hear, half the women in Manhattan have already expressed their appreciation.”
“That life’s behind me,” I say quietly, needing her to understand. “I’m not that guy anymore.”
“No?” She turns over the key in her hands, not quite meeting my eyes.
“Look, I know I’ve got a reputation. And maybe, having muscles instead of brains made it easy to lean into being the hot firefighter stereotype—”
“Don’t do that,” she cuts me off. “You’ve always sold yourself short, Levi. Sure, you’re fit. And yes, your dating history is…extensive.” Her lips quirk. “But I’ve known you since we were kids. You’ve always been quick on your feet, good with people. It takes more than good looks and a quick wit to make it through the fire academy and handle emergencies every day.”
Her defense catches me off guard. “Most women just see the surface.”
“I’m not most women.”
“You can say that again.”
She steps closer. “And if you’d had the balls to step up and be the man I know you are, maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.”
The heat flooding my chest has nothing to do with physical attraction. “Careful, Doc. Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you actually like me.”
“Maybe, I do.” Her admission hangs in the air between us. “When you’re not leaving me high and dry, that is.”
Damn, she’s making me work for it. And I’ve never wanted to labor so hard in my life. Suddenly, the space feels smaller with each passing second, but I can’t help it. “That’s not what you said last night.”
“Last night was…” she starts, trailing off. Silence stretches out, filling the space of a long minute before she finishes. “Good.”
Good? Good? That’s all I get? But she must sense my reaction because she lifts a shoulder. “Okay, definitely better than good.”
That’s more like it.
Twenty minutes later, we’ve solved three puzzles using subway routes and a Metro card, decoded a message hidden in the inscription on the bottom of the Statue of Liberty, and unraveled a clue from an audio recording of a Broadway play and a copy of its playbill. All while our bodies constantly brush in the confined space.
“That’s definitely not a clue about the Staten Island Ferry,” she says when I suggest the pattern of lights we uncovered might match maritime signals.
“You got a better theory?”
She steps close, reaching past me to rearrange the sequence of lights, her chest pressing against my arm. I nearly forget what we’re supposed to be doing. “It’s the Brooklyn Bridge,” she says, her breath warm against my neck.
Damn, she’s right. And brilliant. And standing so close, the heat radiating off her body is making me sweat. Before I can stop myself, I catch her wrist gently. “Zoe…”
“Remember how they looked that night, reflecting on the water?”
I do. But what’s seared into my memory is the way she’d absolutely glowed in that pale pink dress, how her laugh echoed across the rooftop, and the perfect fit of her body against mine as we danced. “Zoe…”
She stills and raises her gaze to meet mine, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “We…we should focus on the puzzle.”
“We’ve got time.” my thumb traces circles on her inner wrist, her pulse jumping. “Plenty of time.”
Her breath catches as I back her against the wall, careful to avoid the prop subway sign.
“Do we?” she murmurs, but her free hand fists in my shirt, and she tugs me closer.
“You know, I do know how to take it slow. It’s just that whenever I’m around you, I can’t seem to help myself.”
“Same,” she admits, the confession flowing out on a soft breath.
I lean in, pressing my body against hers, drawn by those lips that have been tempting me all night.
And just when I’m about to kiss her, long and slow, a familiar crackling voice comes over the speaker.
“Um, guys? Just a reminder that you’re on camera…”
Zoe bursts out laughing against my chest, her face flaming red. I can’t help joining in, even as disappointment courses through me.
“Sorry, kid,” I call out, stepping back but keeping hold of Zoe’s hand.
She squeezes my fingers. “Come on, Romeo. Let’s escape this room.”
The moment is gone, but something between us has shifted. We throw ourselves back into the challenges with renewed focus, though neither of us can ignore the electricity charging the air. Working with Zoe feels natural. Like something I want to do every day for the rest of my life. She thinks fast, picks up on details I miss, and isn’t afraid to call me out on my wild suggestions. The trust and communication flowing between us is everything that was missing before.
When she unlocks the exit door with an antique brass skeleton key with two minutes to spare, Zoe lets out a whoop of victory and throws her arms around my neck. I lift her off her feet, spinning us in a circle as her laughter fills the air. The sound wraps around my heart, squeezing tight.
“We make a pretty good team,” I say when I set her down, tucking a strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear.
She leans into my touch, her eyes soft. “We do. And you haven’t slipped away yet.”
We may have escaped the room, but I’m more trapped than ever. Only this time, it’s exactly where I want to be.
“I won’t disappear this time. You have my word.”
Challenge and possibility war in her expression. “Prove it.”