Chapter 16 #2
“Hell, why not? I could use a drink or two,” I answer as I hear a knock on my door. “Hold on, Val, someone’s here.” I walk over and open it, half expecting to see a delivery person who forgot one of my items. Instead, it’s Valkyrie with a huge smile on her face.
“Surprise!” She lifts a bag, glass bottles clinking together. The sound is both an invitation and a threat. “I knew you were going to say yes.”
Ending our call, I slip the phone into my back pocket. “And what if I had company over?” I let her inside, and my eyes stray to the boxes.
“You? Entertaining guests? Doesn’t even sound right. But then again, I didn’t know you were dating that doctor. And I’m here for the tea—” She stops, taking a look at my surroundings. “What’s with all these boxes?”
I groan internally. The mess is almost as suffocating as the sling.
“I decided it’s time to change up the place a bit. You came at the right time. I need someone to help me assemble this crap.”
“No, I came here to drink. Not be Bob the Builder.” She doesn’t break her stride as she walks into the kitchen, fully expecting me to follow.
I trail behind her, shaking my head at how easily she’s dodged my recruitment attempt.
I should have known better. Val’s always had a knack for getting her way, especially when alcohol is involved.
She starts unpacking her arsenal of liquid comfort, lining up bottles of whiskey, vodka, and some kind of exotic liqueur with a label I can’t pronounce. She turns to face me with a bottle in each hand. “So, spill it.”
Leaning against the counter, I try to gather my thoughts. How do I even begin to explain the mess of feelings swirling inside me? “It’s… complicated,” is all I manage at first. I stare at the boxes again, hoping they’ll give me a convenient out. “I can’t lift anything—”
She pauses a bottle of whiskey halfway to the glass she’s holding.
“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t care about the boxes, and you know it.
” She shakes her head at my weak attempt to deflect.
“Come on, big bro. Out with it.” She pours a generous amount into two glasses, the amber liquid catching the light before she slides one across to me.
It’s a silent challenge. Drink up and dish it.
“You first. I know you came over because you have something on your mind,” I say.
She groans. “It’s my damn patient. You remember the swimmer, Marino, I was telling you about?” She pauses to drink and grimaces. “Well, during PT today, he kissed me. Like a full-blown make-out session in the pool.”
I grip the glass in my hand tighter. “Excuse me? Do I need to go up there and break his jaw?”
“No,” she rushes out.
“If you don’t want me to cause physical harm, what’s the problem?” I ask, taking a sip of whiskey that burns pleasantly down my throat.
“The problem is you don’t make out with your patient. But that kiss made me feel things. Things I shouldn’t be feeling.” She sighs. “Feelings—”
“Feelings I don’t want to hear about. Not from my baby sister,” I warn her. “And if you don’t want me to break his jaw, then I guess you should keep those feelings to yourself.”
“He is such an egoistic asshole. But,” Val continues, “there’s something about him. I mean, the way he looks at me, it’s like he sees right through to something deeper? That terrifies me.” She takes another gulp of her drink, looking conflicted. “And hell, I wish I could drown him.”
Val slams her glass down a little harder than necessary, making the whiskey slosh dangerously close to the rim.
She’s always been the impulsive type, flammable, ready to ignite at a moment’s notice.
I remain silent, letting her vent, knowing from experience she needs to purge these emotions before they consume her.
“You need to set boundaries,” I finally say, trying to sound more like a concerned brother and less like a lecturing parent. “He’s your patient. There are lines that shouldn’t be crossed.”
She scoffs, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Easy for you to say,” she retorts. “You’re not the one he’s looking at like you’re the last piece of dessert at a banquet.”
The image she paints flickers through my mind, unwanted and strangely vivid.
Makes me want to fucking puke. I push it away, focusing instead on her troubled eyes.
I hate seeing her look anything but happy.
“Maybe it’s time to ask for a reassignment,” I suggest, though knowing full well she’s never backed down from a challenge.
“And let him win? No way.” Her jaw sets stubbornly, and I recognize that determined twinkle in her eyes.
It’s the same one she had when we were kids, when she’d climb a tree just because someone said she couldn’t.
And then cry for me to help her get down.
“I think he’s flirting with me because I told him I would never ever date a guy like him. ”
I sigh. Reasoning with her when she’s like this is as pointless as trying to stop a tide with a teaspoon.
“But what if you’re wrong?” I question, unable to shake off a nagging concern for her well-being.
Even though I’m the last person who should be giving any kind of relationship advice.
“What if it’s more than just flirting? What if he genuinely has feelings for you?
” God, I can’t believe these words are coming out of my mouth.
I’d prefer if every man stayed away from her, but she’s a grown woman.
She pauses, and her fiery facade slips momentarily, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability. Shit. “Then I’m screwed,” she admits, her voice a whisper. “Because part of me might actually… feel something for him too. Yes, he is annoying as hell, but there is a soft side to him. Ugh.”
Val has always been great at guarding her heart and controlling her feelings.
So, this Marino guy must really be charming, and that doesn’t sit well with me.
I got time off from work; maybe I should visit her job.
I won’t be able to break his jaw—not like I can in this sling—but my presence alone should be enough to ward him off.
“So, what are you going to do?” I ask, genuinely curious about her next move.
She picks up her cup, taking a slow sip as she considers her options.
Her next words come out slowly, cautiously weighed.
“I’m going to play his game. If he’s using charm as a tactic, I need to counter it with my own strategy.
I’ll keep it professional but make him understand that I’m not someone he can easily sway or intimidate. ”
“And what about your feelings?” I inquire. Because playing this game could end up with her getting her heart broken or, worse, losing a career she’s worked so hard for.
Val meets my gaze. “I’ll manage them. It’s not the first time I’ve had to compartmentalize to overcome something difficult.” She smiles weakly.
I nod, understanding her decision even if part of me wishes she would walk away from it all. But that’s not Val’s way and never has been. She faces challenges head-on, turning them into opportunities or conquests.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” I say, the thought of her getting hurt gnawing at me. I will break his fucking legs if she comes home crying to me.
“I promise,” she insists. “Now, tell me about the doctor.”
“Nothing to tell at the moment. We’re doing well.
” I shrug and watch Val down the rest of the contents in her glass before pouring herself some vodka.
She’s going to throw up all over my house again.
Fucking hell, I hate when she drinks clear liquor.
It’s like a demon comes out to play. A demon I absolutely loathe.
“Doing well. You had cartoon hearts projecting from your eyes, brother.”
“I did not. I—”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell me more about her. She’s pretty… no, she’s gorgeous. And has a job… a good-paying job at that. So that’s already a win-win in New York.” Valkyrie hops on the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. “I want to know more.”
“There really isn’t anything to know. Well…” I trail off, rubbing the back of my neck. “I asked her to move in with me, and I think might—”
“You asked her to do what?” Val raises an eyebrow.
“Holy shit, are you two that serious? I mean, it seemed like you guys were from the way she was caring for you at the hospital—besides her being a doctor, obviously. But I could tell there was more than that, especially when she walked back in pissed thinking I was there for you romantically.” She scrunches up her nose and feigns being sick.
“Wait… shouldn’t you propose first before wanting to play house?
I mean, unless… is she pregnant? Is that why—”
This again. “No, she is not pregnant, and I, um, plan on proposing soon.” So convincing Valkyrie doesn’t seem like a big deal now. If anything, Karina showing signs of jealousy when she first saw Val made this easier for me. I pause. “Aren’t you going to ask how long we’ve been together?”
“Uh, no, it’s long enough if you’re thinking about popping the question.” Val hops off the counter. “Dude, you’re totally whipped! I’ve never seen you like this before. Not even with… You know, what’s-her-name from college.”
“Yeah, it’s different this time. Karina makes me feel like I’m actually part of something real.” Just say it, Vulcan. Get it over with. I have to get married in less than two months. I need to get this out in the open. “If I’m being honest, I can see myself spending the rest of my life with her.”
“Holy shit! You really are a simp! Wow, okay, when can I meet my future sister-in-law?” Val’s teasing doesn’t let up, and I grin at her excitement even if it means enduring a bit more of her relentless prodding.
“She must be something else,” Val speculates, her mind clearly whirring with possibilities.
“She just waltzes into your life, claims your space, and makes you all domestic? I love her already! I can’t wait to tell Mom! ”
The weight of this deception sits heavy in my chest. Every lie I tell, every half-truth I construct, feels like I’m building a house of cards that will inevitably collapse. And when it does, it won’t just be me who gets hurt. Val will feel betrayed. Mom will be devastated. And Karina…
Fuck. Karina.
What am I doing to her? She’s agreeing to this arrangement out of desperation, and here I am involving my family, making them care about her, making this whole charade feel more real than it should.
When this ends in three years, when we go our separate ways like we planned, what happens then?
Do I tell everyone we grew apart? That we wanted different things?
“You okay?” Val’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. “You look like you’re about to throw up.”
“I’m fine, but let me tell Mom, I don’t need you adding your own spin on my love life. And you can meet Karina soon, if you help me assemble this furniture.” I look over my shoulder at the boxes and back to her, anticipating her reaction.
“Wait,” she gasps, eyes widening. “Is this all for her?”
“Yes.” I nod, amused at how fast she’s switched gears. She’s jumping off the countertop and rushing into the living room like a whirlwind that’s just picked up speed.
“Where are the tools?” She’s in full-on construction mode now.
“I thought you wanted to drink.”
“Technically, you shouldn’t be drinking since you’re probably still on medication.” She waves a finger at me. “Drop the cup. We can drink another time. I have a sis-in-law to meet!”