Chapter 9
Catherine Celia
I woke up to someone poking my arm.
“CC,” Jaden whispered.
I groaned and rolled onto my stomach, shoving my face deeper into the pillow. “No.”
“CC. You said we’re going to Six Flags,” he said, sounding so hopeful that it made me feel terrible because I was so tired my body hurt.
I opened one eye. My brother stood beside my bed in basketball shorts and a Dallas Blaze T-shirt, his hair sticking up in every direction. He looked wide awake, which was offensive because it was Saturday and I was pretty sure I had only closed my eyes ten minutes ago.
“What time is it?” I mumbled.
“Nine,” he replied.
I groaned.
“You said you would come,” he continued, laying on the guilt.
“I was emotionally manipulated by your cute little face.”
He grinned. “My face isn’t little. I’m a man.”
I pulled the blanket over my head. “I’m so tired.” I was behaving like I was twelve, but this was my day off, and I had pushed myself harder than usual this week.
Jaden grabbed the edge of my comforter and tugged. “Come on. Dad said we can leave soon. Mom’s off. You promised.”
I did promise. I had promised before I knew this week was going to chew me up and spit me out.
Between the arena, the hospital, my research project, intake notes, learning the flow of the medical staff, and pretending I was not constantly aware of Hunter Russell breathing somewhere in the same building, I was dead tired.
My brain felt like mush. My body was heavy, and my eyes burned.
“CC,” Jaden whined.
“I love you,” I said from under the blanket. “But I need you to go away.”
His voice turned tragic. “You’re bailing on me?”
Ugh. I loved him so much it was annoying, but right now he was using the younger-brother guilt card, and he knew exactly what he was doing.
I pushed the blanket down and squinted at him. “I’m not bailing.” I sat up too fast, and the room tilted a little. “Give me five minutes, I’ll get dressed.”
Jaden lit up. “Really?”
Before I could answer, Dad appeared in the doorway, already dressed in athletic shorts and a T-shirt, his sunglasses hooked into the collar. He took one look at me and frowned.
“Bud,” he said to Jaden, “let your sister sleep.”
“She said she’d come.”
“She worked hard all week,” Dad said, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe. “Look at her.”
“Thanks,” I muttered. “Very flattering.”
Dad’s mouth twitched. “You know what I mean.”
I threw the blanket off my legs. “I’m fine. I’ll come.”
“No, you won’t,” Dad said.
Jaden turned to him. “But—”
“We’ll go with Mom today, and CC can come another time,” Dad said with his stern voice that left no room for argument.
I hated the disappointment that crossed Jaden’s face. It was fast, but I saw it, and it hit me right in the chest. Especially with Mila away at camp. He was bored and probably lonely, and I had said I’d go.
“I can come,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
Dad’s eyes narrowed. “You can barely sit up.”
“I’m fine,” I assured him.
“You’re exhausted,” he insisted.
“I’m in medicine. That’s the brand,” I quipped.
He stepped into the room. “Catherine Celia.”
Oh, he pulled out Catherine Celia. That meant he was serious.
I rubbed my eyes. “Dad, I said I’d go with him.”
“And I’m saying you’re staying home. You need to take care of yourself. Burning yourself out isn’t productive,” Dad said.
Jaden looked torn now, which made me feel worse. Then Mom appeared beside Dad in the doorway, wearing leggings, a loose top, and her hair in a ponytail. She held a travel mug of coffee and looked way too pretty for someone who had been on call the night before.
“Doctor’s orders,” she said, pointing at me with her mug. “Back in bed.”
I flopped backward. “You too, Mom?”
Mom smiled. “Don’t try to guilt me. It won’t work.”
“I’m not trying to guilt you,” I replied.
Dad looked at Jaden. “She’ll come another time. Today she rests.”
Jaden sighed like he had suffered more than anyone in human history. “Fine.”
I lifted my head. “I’m sorry, bud.”
He shrugged, but his expression softened. “It’s okay. You look kind of scary anyway.”
“Wow. Thank you,” I chortled.
“In a tired way.” He shrugged. “I’ll win you something.”
Mom stepped into the room and pulled the blanket back over me like I was five. “Sleep.”
“I’m not a child.”
“No, you’re a med student, which is worse because you think sleep is optional,” she said, pressing her lips together. She was my example growing up. It shouldn’t surprise her that I was emulating her behavior.
Dad pointed at me. “She gets that from you.”
Mom gave him a look. “She gets the stubbornness from you.”
“Fair.”
I closed my eyes because the pillow was winning. “Have fun without me.”
“We will,” Jaden said, way too cheerfully.
“Rude.”
He laughed, and I heard them leave the room. A few seconds later, Dad called from the hallway, “We’ll text you when we’re on our way back.”
I lifted one hand in acknowledgment even though no one could see me.
Mom popped her head back in. “And eat something when you wake up.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
She smiled softly. “Proud of you, CC.”
That got me. Even half-asleep, it got me.
“Thanks, Mom.”
She left, and I was asleep again before I heard the front door close. When I woke up the second time, the room was too bright, my mouth was dry, and my phone said it was 1:04 p.m. I stared at the screen.
“Crap.” I had slept half the day.
Apparently, I needed it because my body felt less like it had been dragged behind a bus. I checked my messages and saw a picture from Dad of Jaden holding a giant basketball prize with the caption, No dolphin yet. He says this is practice.
I smiled.
Then I lay there for another ten minutes wondering what normal people did on Saturdays when their entire family abandoned them for roller coasters.
Apparently, normal people ate. I dragged myself out of bed, made coffee, ate yogurt with granola, and wandered around the condo in an oversized T-shirt feeling restless.
The place was too quiet. No Jaden yelling at a video game.
No Mom on the phone. No Dad pretending not to be loud while making lunch.
I should have worked on my project. I opened my laptop.
Stared at the spreadsheet. Dad was right, burning myself out wouldn’t be productive.
I closed the laptop. The rooftop pool sounded better.
Something easy. I put on a purple bikini, threw a loose white cover-up over it, grabbed sunglasses, sunscreen, earbuds, and a romance book, then headed upstairs.
The elevator doors opened to the roof, and I immediately realized my mistake.
The pool wasn’t quiet. There were half a dozen Blaze players scattered around the rooftop.
Nate was sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water.
Luca was floating on his back like he had no responsibilities.
Dax was stretched out in a chair, sunglasses on, one arm over his forehead.
And Hunter was there. He stood near the deep end in turquoise-blue swim trunks, talking to Nate with a water bottle in one hand.
Shirtless. Bare chest. Broad shoulders. Tattoos.
Abs cut in a way that should’ve been illegal. I considered turning around. Too late.
Nate spotted me and lifted a hand. “Dr. Davis.”
I groaned. “Catherine. Please.”
He grinned. “Right. Catherine.”
Dax pushed his sunglasses up. “Doc.”
“Also not that.”
“Future Doc?” Luca called from the water.
I pointed at him. “Closer, but still annoying.”
Nate laughed. “You here to spy on us?”
“No, I just want quiet, sun, and relaxation,” I assured him.
Dax sat up and grabbed the bottle beside him. “We can manage that.”
Hunter still hadn’t said anything. I looked at him because apparently, I enjoyed making my own life harder. His eyes moved over me once. I felt it everywhere.
Then he lifted his water bottle slightly. “Catherine.”
“Hunter.”
I kept my tone flat and even and not very why are you shirtless and built like a Greek statue?
I put my stuff on a chair a safe distance from the guys and pulled off my cover-up.
The second the fabric slid down my arms, I felt Hunter’s gaze again, but I didn’t look his way…
at least not at first. I walked to the pool steps and eased into the water.
It was warm from the Texas sun but still cool enough to feel good against my skin.
I pushed off and started swimming laps because if I had to be around Hunter in swim trunks, I needed a task.
I swam until my arms got tired and my lungs burned.
Some of the guys joined in for laps, turning it into an unofficial competition because athletes could not simply exist in water without making it about winning.
Luca tried to race Nate. Nate accused him of cheating.
Dax said they both looked slow. Someone splashed him.
Hunter stayed near the deep end for a while, then lowered himself into the water and started swimming too.
I shouldn’t have watched how he moved through the water, smooth and controlled, his shoulders flexing with each stroke.
When he reached the end, he pushed up out of the pool, water rolling down his chest and over his abs.
My throat went dry. I ducked under the water needing to cool my face.
When I finally finished my laps, I climbed out and wrapped myself in a towel.
My body felt loose in the best way, heavy and warm from the sun and the swim.
I stretched out on a lounge chair, put in my earbuds, and turned on music low enough that I could still hear if someone said my name.
I tried to read. Mostly, I watched the sky through my sunglasses and pretended I wasn’t hyperaware of Hunter on the other side of the pool.