Chapter 17
Bethany is nice, funny. Stunningly beautiful with her waist-length honey hair and deep brown eyes.
I can tell she’s into me, and normally, she’s the exact type of woman I’d have a short fling with.
We both know I’m on a ticking clock, so there’s no expectations of things going anywhere.
Being with her would be easy and fun, a good way to spend the rest of my time here in this little mountain town before my contract ends.
But for some reason, the thought doesn’t seem as appealing as it normally would.
Bethany’s dart hits shockingly close to the bullseye for how tipsy she is. Even though I’ve barely had anything to drink, I’ve never been good at darts. When hers lands, she spins and grins at me, her hair falling over her shoulders like spun silk.
“You owe me money,” she says, sauntering closer.
We’re here with the other nurses that were on our shift, but they’ve largely ignored us since we started playing darts.
They’re gossiping about one of the doctors that I’ve only worked one shift with.
He was a prick, but I don’t have much to add to the conversation.
“You drive a hard bargain,” I tell her as she comes to a stop in front of me, so close that she has to tip her chin up to meet my eyes. She’s short with racetrack curves that she hikes her hands on.
“You can just owe me. No need to pay up today.”
I lean against the wall on my left. I’m nowhere close to being drunk, and I can’t decide if I want to be or not. “Very generous of you. When should I repay you?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking…”
She’s still talking, but something above her head catches my attention, distracts me.
It’s Stevie, dressed in a short dress, her long legs stretching out for miles.
Her hair is hanging down her back, not pulled up for once, and it looks almost black under the warm lights.
Her cheeks are flushed a deep rosy pink, and she looks more carefree than I’ve ever seen her.
She's with her friend, Wren, and they’re laughing, leaning on each other for support.
Disappearing through the front door and into the night.
“Jack?” Bethany asks, ripping my attention away from the door, the image of Stevie burned on the backs of my eyelids like I stared at the sun for too long.
“Yeah? Sorry, I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”
She blinks for a moment, takes a step back. Instantly, I feel bad. Her lips lift in a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Nothing. We better get back to the table. I think I’m more drunk than I was planning on being.”
I look back at the table of our colleagues.
They’re laughing at something one of the other nurses said.
He’s always fun to work with, keeping the mood light even when we’re having a rough shift.
I’m sure I’d have a good time if I stayed, but I don’t know that I want to.
Stevie is probably heading home, and by the looks of it, she’s probably drunk enough that I can talk her into ordering a pizza that she would normally deem just barely edible and one of those pans of chocolate chip brownies.
We can watch something stupid on TV until we stumble to our respective beds.
It sounds better than staying here with these people I barely know.
“I think I’m going to head home,” I say as soon as I have the thought. “The day just caught up to me.”
“Oh, right.” I can tell she’s disappointed, and guilt pricks at me again.
I think I might have led her on unintentionally.
But I’m just now realizing that I’m not interested in a no-strings fling until the clock runs out on my contract here.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night, right? We’re on shift together again. ”
I nod, already pulling my keys out of my jeans pocket. “See you tomorrow, Bethany.”
I slip away from her and pay my tab. It takes longer than it should, and impatience tingles beneath my skin. I want to get home. The bar suddenly feels stifling and loud, and I want to curl up on the sofa in my sweats with just the light of the TV and Stevie laughing beside me.
Night has fully fallen when I finally get out of the bar, the stars twinkling above in the moonless sky.
It’s so dark out here in the mountains, and something about it reminds me of home.
I feel that same pang I always do when I think about Larkspur.
About the endless sky and the smell of snow right before it falls.
The cabin is dark when I pull up to it, and my heart falls a little in my chest. Stevie’s truck was still in the parking lot, but I’m assuming she ordered a ride home.
Or maybe she went somewhere else with Wren.
When I let myself inside, I know she isn’t there.
It’s quiet, and I can’t hear the nature sounds she always plays when she’s sleeping.
Disappointment clings to me as I kick off my shoes and make my way through the cabin.
I stop beside Stevie’s open door and peer in.
She left a lamp on, and there’s a skirt and a pair of jeans discarded on the made up bed, like she couldn’t decide what to wear.
A blow dryer plugged into the outlet beside the dresser.
Some spicy, earthy perfume lingering in the air.
It makes me wish I had been able to spend the evening with her at Matty’s tonight instead of with my coworkers. That she had been the one to crush me at darts. That it had been her laughter floating over the sound of the music.
I palm the back of my neck as the thought hits me square in the chest. As I stare into her room, picturing her getting ready for a night out, realization washes over me. And it’s not welcome.
I think I like Stevie.
Shit.
I don’t see Stevie at all before I have to leave for my night shift, which is probably for the best. I’ve spent the entire day thinking about last night. About the weeks we’ve spent together in this too-small cabin and how I’ve slipped without even meaning to.
One thing I know for sure is that nothing can happen.
Mindless flings are easy with my job. I move to a new city, stay eight to thirteen weeks there, and spend time with whomever is okay with knowing that when my contract is up, I’m leaving.
Friendships and flings have been pretty easy thus far.
I don't typically stay in contact with any of them. But with Stevie…
Things with us are different. We live together and spend more time together than I have with anyone in any of the places I’ve lived.
I know if I started something with her, it wouldn’t be a fling.
And I also know I don’t want to lose touch with her when I go.
I want…I’m not even sure what I want. I want to know how her grandma is doing next year and if she likes the renovations she’s making to her Airstream.
I want to know how her new recipes have turned out and if she ever gets to go back to book club. I want to know that she’s happy.
And none of that feels stringless.
So I won’t do anything about this crush I’ve developed, not when I’m leaving and she’s staying.
Like she always has. It’s something I admire her for, even though it makes me feel guilty for the way I tucked tail and ran from my hometown.
Even if I want her to leave, to go out and experience life somewhere else—somewhere bigger and more vast—to get the experiences she’s always dreamed of, I know she won’t.
And so I won’t jeopardize what she has here by being selfish. Again.
The hospital parking lot is packed when I pass the ER lot and pull into the one for employees.
It’s going to be a long shift, I already know, and I’m grateful for the distraction.
I rub my palms over my face and square my shoulders before heading in, emptying my mind of everything besides work.
Or at least trying. It used to be easier than this, mindlessly losing myself in the work.
I see Bethany as soon as I clock in, but before I can figure out what to say to her, Gita, the charge nurse, is putting me to work. We have a waiting room full of patients and beds that need cleared.
The shift passes quickly, a constant rotation of patients ranging from minor to severe.
I’ve worked in a lot of EDs in my time as a nurse, ranging from rural to big city, and this one is surprisingly busy for being such a small town.
But more often than not, the patients are tourists who underestimated the wilderness around them.
It’s not until hour eight that I get a short break.
I’m feeding coins into the vending machine in the breakroom, shifting my weight from one sore foot to the other, when Bethany finds me.
She’s got her blonde hair tied back in a tight bun slicked down to her head.
She looks tired, and I’m guessing she probably indulged a little more than she should have last night, but not enough to leave her hungover.
The smile she gives me is small, testing.
“Hey,” she says, coming to lean on the drink vending machine as my candy bar clanks to the bottom of the machine.
“Hey.” I bend, picking up my candy bar.
“So about last night…”
I palm the back of my neck, thinking about how to have this conversation. Swallowing, I say, “Bethany—”
She cuts me off, shaking her head. “No, it’s fine, really. I misread things.”
“No,” I tell her, meaning it. “You didn’t. I like you, I really do. And usually…” I trail off, realizing how it makes me sound. I shake my head, hair falling in my face. “God, I sound like a dick.”
She laughs softly. “No, I don’t think you could if you tried.”
“I travel a lot,” I say. “I never stay in one place long. So I don’t usually like to start anything that will go anywhere. Friendships, relationships.”
Her brown eyes meet mine. “Sounds lonely.”
A breath heaves out of me. “I didn’t used to think so.”
“And now?” she asks. “Are you still looking for something with no strings?”
I think of Stevie on the couch, her feet tucked beneath a throw pillow, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Hair falling from her braid and over her shoulders. Blue light from the TV illuminating her cheeks, making her freckles look like constellations in the night sky.
The answer should be yes. I shouldn’t want something with her or anyone, not when my job is the way that it is, not when the only thing I can offer is fun for a few weeks.
I shake my head. “I’m not looking for anything right now. Strings or no.”
She nods, understanding. “Well, if you change your mind…”
My lips curl in a small smile. “Thanks, Bethany.”
She pushes off the other vending machine. “I better get back before Gita realizes I slipped away when it’s not my turn for a break.”
I watch her disappear out of the break room and back to work before I make my way to the uncomfortable couch in the corner.
One of the overhead lights has burned out, leaving this corner in shadow.
I lower myself into it and peel open the wrapper of my candy bar before taking a bite.
The benefit of working a busy shift in the ED is that you don’t have down time to realize how tired and sore you are until you take a break.
Now, the exhaustion is starting to settle in.
Normally after a long, busy shift like this, there’s nothing I want more than to go home alone and watch something that requires no brain cells on TV until I pass out on the couch.
But for some reason, that doesn’t hold as much allure as it used to.
Instead of hoping for solitude, I’m pulling out my phone and scrolling through the camera roll, looking for the photo I snapped of the dry erase calendar Stevie and I put on the fridge.
A breath of relief sighs out of me when I see that she isn’t working this evening, that there’s nothing else written in her tiny, neat handwriting on her schedule for today. She will be there when I get home.
The next four hours don’t go by nearly as quickly.