Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“Your lack of texting was the first clue,” Tobin said, her tone casual but perceptive. “Easily explained—until I heard your voice when you called after work. I practically had to beg you to let me come over instead of going for a swim. That was all the evidence I needed.”
She leaned forward, leveling her lips to Grier’s ears. A pleasant shiver rippled through Grier’s body, Tobin’s hands never stopped moving, kneading deep into her neck, releasing some of the strain and grounding her in the present.
“It was obvious then,” her voice lilted with a tease, “because I’m irresistible.”
“Glad to hear your confidence is intact,” Grier snorted, unwilling to move while Tobin continued to work her magic.
“Talk to me, Grier,” Tobin said firmly, and waited for an answer while her thumbs kept stroking deep, relentless circles into Grier’s shoulders.
Grier inhaled deeply, replaying her lunch with Haleigh in hyperspeed, sorting details and emotions into coherent words to offer Tobin. Coherency was a challenge—Tobin’s fingers making mush of her muscles—and thank fuck—her overly analytical brain.
Haleigh confirmed that Vanders had, indeed, conspired against her. Grier had been irked before—offended at the idea of being singled out for someone’s petty retribution. But for that retribution to also affect her team—an entire department—”irked” wasn’t nearly strong enough.
She was seething. And territorial.
Over lunch, Haleigh had explained how Vanders had been operating for weeks—weeks!
—to undermine the Integrative Health department.
He’d been slipping tidbits of misinformation into casual conversations, telling colleagues that Grier had told him how overwhelmed the department had become.
That she was starting to worry patient care was being compromised. That she wished things would slow down.
Haleigh had even overheard him telling another surgeon that one of his patients had complained about waiting too long for their adjustment—and that Grier had kept them waiting even longer so she could “chat on the phone.”
Grier knew exactly what case he was referencing, and the memory only added to her ire.
Three weeks ago, she’d been paged to one of the ORs for a red-headed sixteen-year-old boy who was struggling to respond to anesthesia.
It wasn’t an uncommon complication in patients with erythristic traits, and the anesthesiologist on call—progressive and curious—had been reading about the benefits of acupuncture in surgical sedation.
With the surgeon, the patient, and the boy’s parents all on board, Grier was brought in.
But when she returned to her office after the successful procedure, she’d found a slew of messages about Ally’s dizziness returning. She had called down to Alix to have them triage until she could get there, after she treated a patient—Dr. Vanders’s patient in question.
According to Haleigh, Vanders had been stealthy—believable. She admitted that she felt terrible for not confirming any of it with Grier, but confessed that Vanders was a skilled con artist. She hadn’t suspected she was being duped.
Grier relayed this to Tobin, feeling her muscles tense despite Tobin’s persistence.
“What are you going to do about it?” Tobin’s voice was cautious. “This feels… delicate.” Her fingers shifted to Grier’s scalp, digging the pads into the thin muscles and tugging gently on her hair.
Grier tried to hum in thought but it escaped her throat as more of moan.
That was the question, wasn’t it? What was she going to do?
She didn’t really have proof of the subterfuge, and it would likely turn into a he-said-she-said scenario if she decided to bring it to Dr. Miles’s attention, or to HR.
She and Haleigh had brainstormed a few scenarios. Haleigh had immediately committed to reviewing her own patient load and making appropriate referrals—starting that afternoon—but she was just one physician. It wasn’t enough to fill the roster for an entire department.
“It’s unfortunately going to take time to rebuild,” Grier admitted. “Haleigh’s on board. We’ll both spread the word that we are growing, that we can take on more patients.”
She sighed, uncertain if she was willing to commit to the idea that had come to her after lunch, when she was alone in her silent office, folding paper airplanes while ruminating.
“What is it?” Tobin asked, interpreting her sigh accurately and pulling the idea from her.
“It’s risky,” she said, hedging. If she voiced it, she couldn’t take it back; she knew she’d have to commit.
Tobin waited, unhurried.
When Grier didn’t speak, Tobin squeezed her shoulders—a gentle nudge of encouragement.
“I could… distort our reality a bit,” Grier said finally.
She knew she was mincing her words, which was extremely uncharacteristic for her.
But desperate times called for desperate measures—and Grier hated feeling desperate.
“I could make it seem like we’re as overwhelmed as Vanders has been describing.
But twist the narrative into something beneficial for the department—particularly, for me.
” “My interest is piqued,” Tobin said, encouraging her by pressing her fingers in broadening circles over Grier’s scalp, tangling her hair in ways Grier was used to only in the aftermath of sex. She liked it.
“I could formally request to hire a second chiropractor,” Grier said, warming to her own idea.
“The request would give the impression that the department is growing—despite Vanders’s scheming.
And when numbers increase again—which they will, they have to—it would remove some of the burden from me as the sole provider. ”
She conveniently left out the concept that this scenario would also inherently give her access to her own treatments. With another chiropractor in the building, she could get adjusted regularly and maybe this tension in her neck and shoulders would finally subside.
Tobin’s fingers stilled.
Then she gently tilted her head back, so that Grier’s eyes were now looking into Tobin’s comforting green ones. She noted the look of serious contemplation on Tobin’s face—evident even from this inverted angle.
“Whatever you choose to do, I know you’ll figure it out.
Because what you do matters, and you’re not going to let someone like Vanders destroy everything you’ve built,” Tobin confided, then leaned forward and rested her lips in a prolonged, supportive kiss on Grier’s forehead.
The pressure of her lips added just enough force to elicit a satisfying cavitation from Grier’s neck, and she sighed in relief as her joints settled.
“You’re no chiropractor,” Grier murmured, her tone teasing, “but my body definitely appreciates your attention.”
“Thank you for coming over,” she said, her voice soft. “I didn’t know how much I needed this—you.”
That was another truth she had been circling recently. Things with Tobin were good. They were better than good—they were incredible.
But that was the startling thing. Tobin had let her in. Grier knew it—felt it. Not in a flashbulb moment or a grand declaration, but in the accumulation of countless small instances that blurred into something monumental.
But it wasn’t loud—or even obvious. It just…
was. And there was a certain beauty in that—that this arguably pivotal concept in their relationship somehow slipped through, evading their radar, settling between them inconspicuously, like it had been there all along.
Like it belonged between them. Like it was inevitable.
Grier was certain she’d fallen for Tobin weeks ago. Somewhere between that first stolen kiss and the sun-drenched day at the orchard—so clearly in love that everyone around them was aware of it even before it had registered in her own mind.
The idea—the word—love—rushed through her with both a calming warmth and an electric current that charged her: nervous, excited, and utterly feral.
It swam through her brain during her morning swims and surfaced when she scrolled through their various adventures on her camera roll during breaks at work.
It flooded her senses when she’d settle into Tobin’s body, exhausted and sated from their love making—the last word sparking in her brain before sleep overwhelmed her.
She was in love with Tobin. And she was pretty certain Tobin was in denial—about Grier’s feelings, yes—but more concerning, about her own.
Grier had avoided saying it aloud. She didn’t want to say it until she knew Tobin was in a state of mind to accept it.
She didn’t need to hear it back right away—in fact, she didn’t want to.
She hated when couples claimed to fall in love simultaneously.
It was cliche and predictable and complete bull shit.
She wanted Tobin to say it—undoubtedly. And she was pretty certain Tobin was falling in love with her—if she wasn’t already. But she wanted Tobin to say it when she was ready. When she meant it.
Because once she said it, Grier wanted her to keep saying it.
Forever.