Chapter 20 #2
We head back to the park with trays of drinks in our hands.
“Careful with that one.” I nod toward the coffee balancing on his tray. “Scarlet will never forgive us if we show up empty-handed.”
“She’d probably make us go back.”
The silence that falls between us isn’t awkward, it's easy. We wait at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. A family with young kids rushes past us, the parents juggling bags and the stroller.
“Organized chaos.”
“The best kind.”
He glances down at me as we wait. “Do you see that kind of chaos in your future?”
The question is simple. But something in the way he asks like it matters surprises me. I’ve spoken about it with Liz and Scarlet, but that’s it.
“Yeah,” I say shifting the tray in my hands. “Eventually. I mean, if I ever get out of work on time enough to actually date.”
He grins. “That’s fair. The survival rate isn’t great.”
“What about you?” I ask.
The memory of him throwing Dusty in the air earlier flashes through my mind.
“You seem like the family type.”
“Oh, definitely.” We start crossing, moving carefully with our drinks. “I’ve always wanted that.”
“You already have practice with your niece.”
He nods. “True. But I always pictured the real thing. A family. Loud mornings, soccer practice, cereal on the floor… the whole deal.”
My chest tightens a little as I wonder why it hasn’t happened for him yet. Someone like Brant, who’s stable, caring, and successful, should’ve been snatched up years ago. Has he been in a serious relationship? Did it end badly? Or is he waiting for the right person? “That’s rare.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, seeming surprised.
“Most people I’ve dated hated my schedule.”
“Same,” he admits. “They wanted dinners at seven and spontaneous weekends. Not… surgeries at midnight or charting at dawn.”
“Exactly,” I murmur.
We’re across the street now. I’m shocked he’s been through the same thing, that he understands what it’s like to be made to feel like you’re choosing wrong when you’re just choosing your calling. It’s validating in a way I didn’t know I needed.
“I mean, I’ve had flings,” I add, giving a shrug, feeling more comfortable with opening up, because if anyone’s going to understand my choices, it’s him.
“Me too,” he says. “You tell yourself you’re fine with casual until someone gets annoyed that you’re on call again.”
Our eyes meet. Something flickers between us that’s warm and slow burning.
“That’s why I like talking to you,” I say softly. “You get it.”
He winks. “Ditto.”
Back at the picnic blanket, Brant hands Scarlet her iced mocha, then sets a kid-sized juice boxes down for Aria and Dusty.
Aria is showing Brant’s father how to twirl a ribbon like a ballet dancer.
Dusty’s also trying, but his footwork needs some help.
Watching him stumble and laugh makes heat radiate through my chest.
“Regan, would you like to sit?” Brant’s mother asks, patting the blanket.
“Actually,” I say, noticing the time. “I need to head off soon. I promised my dad I’d help with the next room.
” A part of me doesn’t want to leave because I’m enjoying myself, but the other part wants to spend time with my dad and continue rebuilding the relationship.
How did two hours go so fast? Brant arches an eyebrow. “Next room?”
I nod, brushing lint off my sleeve. “We’re renovating the house. He’s the demo guy, and I get to be the interior designer and painting assistant.”
Scarlet snorts. “You? Painting? I don’t believe it.”
“I’m excellent with a brush. Just don’t ask about rolling.”
“That’s nice that you're helping him,” Brant says.
“I’m sure he’s enjoying spending time with you again,” Brant’s mom adds.
I shuffle from foot to foot, delaying leaving a little. “Thanks for letting me crash your morning.”
“Come back anytime,” Brant’s mom says.
“Yeah,” Brant says, stepping up beside me, close enough that his shoulder brushes mine. Causing electricity to shoot through my arm. “We still haven’t played hide-and-seek.”
Scarlet tosses her sunglasses up into her hair and smirks. “Oh no, she’s banned. She’s too good at it. Like some kind of hide-and-seek champion.”
I grin. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Dusty and Aria are still spinning around in the grass, locked in some kind of dance-off, with a doll and ribbon between them. I head over and kneel down. “Hey, I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you soon, okay?”
Dusty throws his arms around my neck. We hug, and then I stand and wave goodbye.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Brant says, already moving to follow.
I lift a hand, trying to wave him off, but when I glance over, Scarlet and his parents are all watching me. His mom’s got that look, half-hopeful, half-nosy, and Scarlet just quirks one eyebrow like she’s already writing a mental note about this to discuss with me next time we talk.
I open my mouth to say I’m fine on my own.
But his dad beats me to it. “That’s a great idea.”
So now I’m walking beside Brant, heart thudding way too hard for a casual stroll, and all I can think is: Great. Exactly what my confused brain doesn’t need.
Because here’s the truth. I like him. He makes it hard not to when he interacts with the kids, the way he protects me unknowingly, and his support at work.
But we’re different.
He’s grounded in this city. I’m just passing through.
And once residency ends, I’m gone.
We reach the edge of the path, my car sitting just a few yards ahead.
Brant slows. His fingers graze mine, and I don’t pull away.
“See you in the morning?” Brant asks, lingering like he doesn’t really want to say goodbye yet. Heat blooms low in my stomach, but I ignore it and nod. “Bright and early.”
He doesn’t move, and neither do I. The sunlight beams across his face, catching the curve of his cheekbone.
“And hey,” he adds, dropping his chin slightly. “Go easy on me during the role reversal.”
A smirk tugs at my lips, but inside, I’m already melting. “No promises,” I say, even though I mean the opposite.
He smiles… and it’s like a sucker punch.
I force myself to turn away, slipping into the driver’s seat, heart still buzzing, fingers curled tight around the steering wheel. I came here for some fresh air, and to hang out with Scarlet and Dusty, not to fall headfirst into… whatever this is.
I drive off with my thoughts on Brant… his gentle way with kids, the quiet pride in his parents’ smiles, the warmth in his eyes when they land on me. Like he sees more than a name badge and a white coat. Like he actually sees me.