Chapter 23
Travis
“Is that guy really going to staple his own leg?” I gawk at the TV screen.
Anna chuckles as she sits beside me on her couch. “Yeah. Dr. Owen Hunt is hardcore like that.”
I wince as I watch him staple the wound on his upper leg. The other actor in the scene watches him with a horrified look on her face.
“She looks how I feel right now,” I say.
Anna laughs again, patting my leg before standing up from the couch. “I’m gonna grab a snack. Do you want anything?”
“No, I’m good.”
She walks over to the kitchen, which is just a few feet away in her small apartment. I glance over at her bookshelf, which is packed to the brim with science and medical textbooks.
When I see a copy of Gray’s Anatomy on the shelf, I smile.
“What do you like better? Grey’s Anatomy the show or the book?”
Anna smiles as she grabs a big bowl from the cupboard above her. She looks at me. “What do you think?”
“The show.”
She laughs. “I love them both for very different reasons.” She sprinkles popcorn at the bottom of the bowl. Then she grabs a bag of potato chips from the cupboard, along with what looks like a bunch of small candy bags.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Making a snack bowl.”
I watch as she dumps gummy worms, gummy sharks, gummy bears, Sour Patch Kids, and peach rings into the bowl.
She walks back into the living room and sits down next to me.
She pops a handful of the bizarre snack mix into her mouth. She turns to me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s just…that’s the strangest snack bowl I’ve ever seen.”
Her pretty face splits into a gorgeous smile. “Haven’t you ever seen this before?”
I shake my head.
“Poppy and I make these all the time when we watch a show or a movie together. It’s perfect. Some salty stuff. Some sweet stuff.”
I make a face. “Mostly sweet stuff.”
She elbows me. “You’re such a grump.” She pops a Sour Patch Kid into her mouth. “Technically, this is more sour than sweet.”
I notice she eats those first.
“Sour Patch Kids are your favorite?” I ask. She nods
When she offers me the bowl, I take a single potato chip. She laughs, and we continue watching the episode. Two doctors are in the middle of hooking up in what looks like a medical supply closet in the hospital.
“Wow. The doctors at this hospital are freaky as hell,” I say.
Anna laughs.
“Is this why you want to be a doctor? So you can have hot hookups with hot doctors in the middle of your shift?”
She shoves my shoulder, but she’s laughing even harder.
“I’m surprised you like this show. I’ve heard so many medical professionals hate on it for not being realistic.”
Anna rolls her eyes. “That’s so annoying. Of course it’s not realistic. It’s a TV show. No one wants to see what happens in a real-life emergency room with people who look like normal people. We want drama and sex and some medical stuff thrown in, acted out by ridiculously good-looking actors.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I get that. I have to admit, it’s definitely entertaining.”
“It’s been a nice distraction too,” she says. “I’ve been counting down the days until I get my MCAT score. It’s been agony.”
She sets her snack bowl down on the table and tucks her feet under her legs. I scoot closer to her.
“Are you worried?”
She plays with the hem of her dress. “A little.”
I grab her hand in mine. “Why? Anna, you’re so smart. All you do is study and kick ass in school. I know you did great.”
“It’s hard for me to be hopeful. The MCAT is such a tough test. It’s hours long. Taking it is disorienting. You come out of it feeling like you’ve gone through some sort of brain stress test. Even some of the smartest people with the best grades don’t score high.”
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her. Her expression softens.
“Yeah, but they’re not you. I know you scored well.”
She turns back to the TV. The doctor who looked horrified while watching that other doctor staple his own leg is on the screen, spouting some medical jargon I don’t understand.
“I bet Dr. Cristina Yang got a perfect score.”
“She’s not a real person, Anna.”
“I know.” She looks down at her lap and lets out a sad chuckle. “This show was supposed to be a distraction, and now I’m speculating about the MCAT scores of people who don’t even exist.”
I wish I could make her doubts disappear. I think about telling her again just how amazing she is…but maybe that’s not what she needs right now. Maybe she just needs a different distraction.
An idea hits.
I let go of her hand, grab her by the waist, and pull her onto my lap. Her brow lifts. She looks so cute and surprised.
“Let’s find another way to distract you,” I say.
I move her so she’s lying down on the couch. I slide to the floor and sink to my knees. I push up her dress, swallowing back a growl when I see the pink thong she’s wearing.
“Travis, what are you doing?”
“Distracting you.”