1 #3
True, maybe. But even so, you didn’t mix with juniors, not if you had half a brain.
Even after they’d rotated off, people remembered, and the gossip mill at the hospital could ferment scandal out of a shared sandwich.
Especially since I’d only just made attending—everyone still watching to see if I’d earn being picked over a long line of highly qualified external candidates.
“I guess so,” I said. “Would look pretty bad for me to be dating a junior, though.”
“One, not actually dating. And secondly, it’s not like you’d advertise it in here. Classic case of what happens in Vegas, right?”
I leaned back on my white plastic chair and sifted through another memory of Carter—Tay, apparently.
It must have been early into his rotation with us, maybe the end of his second week, and he was clearly coming down with something.
Nothing dramatic—just a slight lag behind the team, a barely-there cough he tried to muffle.
I’d pulled him aside after a routine op, just far enough from the others not to make it a scene.
“You’re sick,” I’d said.
“I’m fine,” came his automatic reply, a little too fast, eyes a shade too bright.
Sure. Except he’d looked like he’d wilt if I prodded him wrong. “You’ve coughed four times since we scrubbed out, and you’re sweating through your top.”
He hesitated, jaw clenched, then tried, “I can still write notes.”
I’d shaken my head. “You’re going home, Carter. You’re no good to anyone like this.”
His shoulders had gone tight, like I’d benched him from something important, like he’d failed—me, himself, who even knew.
He’d left with a small, brittle nod and missed the next five days, apparently knocked out by a nasty virus, before he returned too soon, his voice still hoarse and tiredness etched into the corners of his eyes.
I couldn’t be sure he’d avoided me afterwards, but it sure felt like he smiled and joked with everyone and fell quiet whenever I drew close.
“Dean?” Gregg’s voice pulled me back to the present.
“Sorry, yeah.” I frowned, turning my coffee cup so the handle was parallel to the edge of the table. “Honestly, I don’t think he liked me much. Tay, I mean.”
One side of Gregg’s mouth hitched up. “Yeah? What makes you say that?”
“He just seemed a bit awkward around me.”
Gregg’s laugh carried. “Nah, buddy—he liked you fine, trust me. You just had that intense senior fellow thing going—brilliant, precise, all that. Everyone assumed you’d be an attending before the next coffee break. And now you are.”
I felt neither brilliant nor precise right now. Intense? Perhaps. But then, medical matters were a lot easier to grasp than family expectations and social cues. Although I hadn’t missed the subtle note of worry that trailed Gregg’s statement.
“You’ll have the title soon enough, man. This time next year, you’ll be the one dodging congratulations.”
“Thanks.” Uncommonly soft for Gregg, but I decided to let it drop for now.
“Yeah. Anyway.” I cleared my throat. “Not sure I’m desperate enough to bring a fake boyfriend.”
“Nah, course not.” The mischievous glint in Gregg’s eyes said he was mostly indulging me here.
“But come on—it’s a damn luxury resort, man.
White sand, palm trees, tropical sunsets.
Feels criminal not to share it with someone who could genuinely use it.
Especially when it’d make things easier for you, too. ”
“You missed your calling as a salesman.”
Apparently, Gregg took that as permission. “I’ll float the idea to him,” he said, rising and grabbing his tray to leave. “If he’s game, just meet him for coffee. Can’t hurt, can it?”
Well, other than my pride, perhaps. I busied myself with rearranging empty sugar packets into a tiny, tragic fortress.
It was a ridiculous idea, obviously—which was Gregg’s specialty.
But. Carter seemed like a friendly enough guy, at least when he didn’t go weirdly quiet around me, and he sure was easy on the eyes. Maybe it’d be nice not to sit alone.
On the other hand, could I pull off a lie like that? Did I want to?
“Just coffee,” I said. “Okay? And then we’ll see. And don’t make it sound weird, all right? Maybe just… don’t mention my name, for now. Just check how he reacts to the general idea.”
“Weird—me?” Gregg winked. “Never.”
“Not reassuring, man.”
“Eh, don’t worry. I’ll be casual about it, yeah? Trust me.”
“Hardly,” I said when really, I did. Or, well—I trusted his good intentions. Just not necessarily his ability to think things all the way through.
He tossed me another grin along with a finger wiggle, tray balanced precariously in one hand. As he marched off, I sank back into my chair and exhaled a sigh. Fuck, it’d been a day—and it wasn’t evening yet.
Oh well, maybe Tay would say no right off the bat. Or maybe he would once he realized it was me. I wouldn’t blame him. After all, what did I know about pretending to be in love when even casual dating was a stretch for me? If he was as smart as he seemed, he’d clock this as bullshit within minutes.
Anyway, back to work.