10. Change Of Pace
CHANGE OF PACE
“You’re pulling my leg,” Luca said thirty minutes later.
“No,” Gabriela said, shaking her head dramatically.
“I swear, I’m not. I can’t make this shit up.
” She popped a fry in her mouth. “He insisted it was the only way to get snot out of his nose. Jamming a finger up there and pulling it out. I should add he went on to say how satisfying it was to feel it coming out of his sinuses that way.” She leaned closer.
“It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him he might need to seek medical help.”
He shivered next to her. “I would have had to get up and wash my hands after.”
“It was darn close. That was almost as bad as the guy I went on a date with years ago who enjoyed picking at things. Not his nose though. I almost asked him that, but he volunteered he didn’t do that, like it was too gross.”
“Picked at what?” he asked. His club sandwich was gone, but he lifted his fork to dive into his potato salad.
“Scabs, pimples. Things like that. We were at the movies and I could see him picking at his arm. I asked if he was okay and he said the scab was bothering him. Not itching or anything, just being there. I said I had a Band-Aid for him in my purse and he said no, he was fine. Once it was off his OCD would be gone.”
“How long did that date last?”
“If I could have snuck out at that moment, I would have, but the movie was good so I stuck it out. When it was done though, we parted ways.”
“Guess I didn’t know what I was missing for years.”
“It really sucks,” she whined. “So it’s a toss up between living in a bigger city and having hope that you’ll run into someone you can have a good time with, or being here where you know it’s most likely not going to happen.”
“No expectations, that is what you’re telling me?”
She shifted her leg under the table, accidentally brushing his foot. “Sorry,” she said. “And yeah, don’t have too many unless it’s a single mom. I’ve gotten hit on by single dads. Hell, not only single dads will flirt when their kid isn’t around or too young to know.”
“Creeps.”
“Lots of them. Not so much here. The thing is, here, you won’t see the same patients as much because of the rotating schedule, unless they request you. But that guarantees nothing either.”
“Since you’ve been here a few months, other than not having much of a personal life, how do you like it?”
“I like it a lot. I think I just needed a change of pace. The problem with being in your thirties now and being single is that most of the men have issues. Or some kind of baggage. Divorced, kids and never been married, still living at home.”
“Being a widower.”
Her jaw opened. “Put my foot in my mouth there.”
“No worries. It’s not a secret. And that means I get to look forward to women putting me in that category also.”
“Most aren’t going to care,” she said, waving a French fry at him and then putting it in her mouth. She chewed. “Young, good-looking doctor like you, awesome with kids. Women will overlook a lot of things with men. More than men would with women.”
His head tipped side to side before he reached over and stole one of her fries, surprising a laugh out of her.
“I steal food too,” he said easily. “Especially fries. It’s a weakness of mine, so I don’t order them. So tell me, what’s your baggage? Early thirties, still single. I’m guessing some of it has to do with your family name and the hours you work. Or maybe you’re just really picky.”
She squinted at him. “I’ve been accused of that. But why shouldn’t I be picky? It’s not like I’m picking something off of me.”
He laughed. “Fair point.”
“Since you brought up age,” she said, “I’m thirty-three. Your turn.”
“Thirty-eight,” he said. “Older than you. Probably another mark against me.”
“Nope. That’s mature,” she said. “That’s what women say. In five years, if I’m still single, I’ll be called an old hag.”
“Not in today’s world.”
“Oh, I won’t be mature,” she said. “I’ll be a cougar.
” She shuddered. “Hard pass. I don’t really care about age, or dating younger men, but the older I get, the less I want someone that much younger than me.
Men don’t worry about it. They can have kids forever.
My window feels like it’s shrinking.” She shrugged. “Another mark against me.”
“It shouldn’t be,” he said carefully. Too carefully. Like he was holding something back.
“You don’t have kids?” she asked, pretending she hadn’t already looked him up. Considering he was here alone, that said no, but there could be more going on she didn’t know about.
“No. I wanted them. We wanted them. We tried for years, but… it wasn’t in the cards.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t me,” he blurted. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.
My wife, Zoe, she couldn’t get pregnant.
She had female issues most of her life. She didn’t want to go through fertility treatments, and I didn’t push.
I understood what that kind of pressure can do to someone. What it can do to your body also.”
“It’s not for everyone,” she said softly.
“I wanted to adopt,” he added, then shook his head. “And I really don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”
“Because you’re comfortable with me,” she said. “And I’m not a threat.”
That part stung. A little. But not enough to matter.
He carried a lot. More than most. Bad habits could be overlooked. Even fixed. Grief was different.
What he needed wasn’t a date.
He needed a friend.
And it wasn’t like she had anyone else competing for her attention.
“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe you’re just easy to talk to. You know how to be serious when it matters, but mostly you want to enjoy yourself. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that. Which is sad, and probably enough to send most women running.”
“Is this a date?” she asked, eating more of her fries. “Because if it is, it might be one of the best I’ve had in a year.”
He grinned, the humor finally reaching his eyes. “If it is, thanks. I don’t feel like such a loser now.”
“And hey, you can say you did it,” she said. “The first one’s the hardest. That’s me assuming, and I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said. “You’re right. No dates. Nothing in years.”
“Well,” she said, wiping her fingers on a napkin, “congratulations. You survived your first kind-of date.”
He snorted. “High praise.”
“I don’t hand it out lightly. There’s a certificate. Possibly even a ribbon.”
“I feel robbed,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t even get a participation trophy. Doesn’t everyone get one of them now?”
She smiled. “You stole my fries. That can be your prize.”
“Totally worth it,” he said. “They were excellent fries.”
“Of course they were. I have refined tastes.” She tipped her head, studying him. “See? That’s me being picky again.”
He laughed, the tension she hadn’t realized was in his shoulders seemed to relax. “I’m starting to think picky just means you know what you like.”
“Exactly. I don’t waste calories or time.”
“Two very important things. Guess I should know that moving forward.”
Interesting. She didn’t know if it meant moving forward with her or another woman.
Probably another woman. That would be smart on both their parts.
She leaned back. “So tell me something safe. Favorite awful movie. Or embarrassing habit. Funny situation. Something that doesn’t come with emotional whiplash.”
He considered it. “I like to line my food up by amount left over in the cabinet.”
“That’s not embarrassing,” she said. “A little anal, but not embarrassing. I guess it makes some sense. You know, this way you finish what is opened before it gets shoved in the back and goes stale or rotten.”
“See, you get it.”
Her hand went up. “I’ll make allowances, only if you tell me you’re not one of these guys who leaves like one cookie in the bag forever. Like you’re afraid to finish it.”
“Who the hell would do that? Then it gets stale and you throw it out anyway. That defeats the purpose of me lining them up by how much is left.”
She wiped her hand across her forehead when he smirked at her. “Phew. Okay. Now you’re just quirky, not OCD.”
“Good to know that too. See?” he said. “I still have some normal left.”
“You do,” she said gently. “And for the record, you’re allowed to carry the past without letting it sit between us. I’m not going to judge you.”
He met her gaze, something soft settling in the pit of her stomach like he was assessing her. Maybe questioning some more of what he’d said. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” she said, sticking her fork into his potato salad. “Now don’t get territorial. I’m just getting my prize.”
He shook his head, smiling. “You mean time with me wasn’t enough of one?”
“Shit,” she said, shaking her head, the smile tugging hard at her lips. “Luca, whether or not you know it, when you’re ready, you’re going to be one hell of a catch.”
She just wished it didn’t look like he only wanted her as a friend.