Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cosmos leads me down the wide hall, waving his badge to open a set of double doors. We make two lefts before he stops, looks both ways, then grabs the cuff of my sleeve and pulls me through a small door. “In here.”
“A storage closet?” I put a hand on my hip, and my elbow brushes against his stomach in the tight space. He sucks in a breath, and I try to ignore the heat blooming up my arm from that brief point of contact.
I press back against a shelf, creating more room. He leans against the opposite wall. A single lightbulb hangs from a string between us, casting the little room in warm dim light.
“Storage closets are sexy.” His wide grin ignites my already smoldering insides into a fire of want.
“Bow ties are sexy,” I counter.
He laughs. “Did you just quote the Doctor to me?”
My smile feels like it’s about to split my cheeks. No one ever gets my Doctor Who references.
“Your mom’s not my patient anymore.” He casually crosses his arms over his chest. “Go out with me.”
I want to say yes. I want to scream yes.
This is everything I’ve dreamed about for weeks.
But I hesitate. What if his feelings for me aren’t strong enough to deal with the stress of my life, to deal with the stress of me?
Mom’s doing well, but we’re not out of the woods yet.
I have a little over a week until my MFA thesis is due and two weeks until I have to defend it before a committee of professors.
If I get through that, I need to find a job and figure out my life.
Is now really a good time to start something new?
Could I handle having my heart broken right now?
I’ve always had bad luck in the romance department.
It starts out okay. But I can’t keep my mask up all the time.
Eventually it slips, and then every guy I’ve ever dated acts like my dad and runs.
Or badgers me to death trying to make me into something else, then splits.
I’m great from afar, but not so easy up close.
I don’t want my memories of Cosmos to be tainted with heartache.
The magic and wonder of stopping time with someone is precious.
The way he looks at me makes me feel special in a way I never have before.
That’s how I want to remember him when I’m old and grey, surrounded by romance novels—because I’m now officially addicted. I don’t want to ruin that.
I’m not the girl who gets the happily ever after. I’m the girl who reads about it.
He’s waiting. Barely breathing. I should say no. But I blurt out, “Why?”
The tension in his shoulders breaks in a laugh. “You mean, apart from the fact that I find you irresistibly attractive?”
I nod stiffly, struggling to believe what he said, trying to keep from completely freaking out.
Attractive can mean a lot of different things.
A spectrum from cute to sexy. But attraction isn’t enough.
Still… irresistibly attractive… No one has ever said that about me.
It doesn’t seem possible that this man standing in front of me would say it now.
He pushes off the wall and steps closer. “I like how deeply you care for your mom, and the way you gave up the last blueberry muffin in the cafeteria last week because a kid wanted it, even though you’d already paid for it.”
“You saw that?” I ask in wonder.
“I see a lot of things, Hazel. I see how resilient you are, how passionate, how absorbed you get in a book.” He’s so close the tips of our toes touch.
“Two nights ago I saw you walk from your mom’s room to the family room without lifting your eyes from your book even once.
” His laugh is like bubbles in champagne, light and effervescent.
“You’re easy to talk to, and whether I’m quoting Mary Oliver or referencing Doctor Who, you know exactly what I mean. ”
He leans forward half an inch, experimentally, cautiously. I don’t move back. Our faces are so close I can feel his breath on my lips. His nostrils flare, and even in the dim light, I can see the black of his eyes expand, as if it plans to devour the rich brown that rings his pupils.
“When?” I say, breathless.
“Tonight? Today? Now?” His palm comes to rest on my cheek. “Fuck, Hazel, you have no idea—”
Before I can overthink or second-guess it, I lift on my toes and kiss him. His groan vibrates straight through to my heart, like a shot of adrenaline. The hand on my cheek moves to thread into my loose hair. His other hand rests on the shelf above me, holding some of his weight as he leans closer.
This kiss is a dance. But it’s no slow dance, or waltz, or repetitive foxtrot. It’s a salsa. It’s fiery and fierce. I might melt from the heat of it. He tastes, pulls back, tastes again, nipping and tugging. Teasing. His mouth owns mine.
Knock. Knock. The doorknob jiggles. Knock. Knock.
Someone is trying to get in, but we don’t break apart. Without a word, we look at each other, our eyes as locked as our lips. The knocking stops. The kiss changes. Slower, but no less intense. The look in his eyes is like quicksand pulling me in, pulling me under.
His hand moves down from my hair, along my spine, until it’s pressed into the small of my back. His long fingers spread, and his pinky dips below the waist of my jeans.
He repositions us, my back hitting the only wall without shelves. And, now, both his hands are on me. Exploring up and down my arms, my sides, my neck, my hair. My ass. I’m just as shameless in my exploration, letting all the pent-up tension from the last few weeks drive me forward.
My hands slip under his shirt, making him hiss as his abs flex.
“Fuck, Haze,” he gasps before diving right back into the kiss.
Feeling brave, I slide one hand up his back until I can braid my fingers into his hair.
He moans against my lips. His eyes are as shuttered as my own, but neither of us looks away.
We don’t even blink. It’s intimate in a way I’ve never experienced.
It’s like he can see right into my soul.
I want to pull back, to hide, but I can’t. I’m too desperate for this.
And so is he. I can feel it in the way he rubs against me, practically growling when I twist and writhe against him, spreading my legs so his thigh can notch between mine.
He stills my hips, then frames my face with his hands.
The kiss changes again. A firm claim. His eyes hold a promise of what’s to come, even as he slowly pulls away.
I grab for him and try to tug him back, but he brings a palm to the center of my chest, right over my heart, gently holding me off.
“If we don’t stop now, I’m going to cross another thing off my romance novel bucket list and fuck you right here in the storage closet. ”
“W-would that be so bad?” Just the thought of it makes my core throb. I clench my legs together and let out a slow, steadying breath.
I was crazy to think I could walk away from this and relegate him to some magical memory. I can’t fight whatever this is between us. I have to let it run its course. Even if that leads to heartbreak.
I want to experience all of it while I can, before he figures out what a mess I am and changes his mind.
I want to make memories with him that are so exceptional, so extreme and crazy and beautiful, that I’ll look back on them with pleasure when I’m sixty and alone.
Because I already know he’s going to break me.
Shatter my heart and wreck me for all other men.
How could anyone else compete with stopping time? With that kiss?
“Another day.” He curls a piece of my hair around his finger and shakes his head.
“I want the first time I’m with you to be as magical as everything else about this.
You’re a poem, Hazel, and you deserve to be read slowly…
under spotlights.” His lips quirk up, revealing those dimples, and this time I don’t stop myself from licking his cheek.
Which just makes him laugh more. He buries the sound in my shoulder, because time is moving forward again.
“I can hear you in there,” someone calls from the other side of the door. It sounds an awful lot like Rose. Knock. Knock. Knock.
Cosmos wraps his arms around me and holds me still, his palm rubbing up and down my back, while we wait for whoever is outside to go away so we can make our escape.
Only, I’m not eager to escape. I want to stay here as long as I can.
Cosmos must feel the same because he looks at me and time stops, throwing us into silence.
“Tell me something about you?” he whispers.
It feels like a dangerous question. A question that could go anywhere, from my favorite color to my greatest fear. It’s too open-ended. I don’t know what he’s looking for.
“What do you want to know?” I ask, pressing against every frantic heartbeat.
“Besides everything?” His fingers trail down my neck and along the collar of my shirt. “Let’s start with family. It’s just you and your mom?”
I nod, not wanting to encourage this line of questioning.
“Did… your dad die?”
“That would be easier.” I look away and let out a nervous laugh.
Knock. Knock. “The storage closet isn’t a make-out place. Rookie mistake, interns. This is how you get caught.” The voice from the other side of the door is growing more and more frustrated.
“Someone sounds jealous,” Cosmos whispers.
He takes my chin in his hands and draws my face back so I’m looking at him again. “Tell me about your dad.”
I sigh. “We should go. I don’t want you getting in trouble.”
It’s clear I’m deflecting. If I wanted to talk about it, we could, as long as we look at each other. But, I don’t like talking about what happened with my dad under the best of circumstances, and nothing sounds more uncomfortable than having to look Cosmos in the eye while I tell him the story.
His expression falls for a fraction of a second, and he looks away.
There’s a loud huff from the other side of the door. “Fine. I’m going to get a key, so you better be out by the time I get back.”
Cosmos kisses my forehead, a feather-light touch, and it’s clear he’s giving up his line of questioning. I’m not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.
“I’ll make sure the coast is clear,” he says, stepping away. He peeks his head out the door. Once he’s sure it’s safe, he grabs my hand and leads me out into the hall and back through the double doors that require a key card.
When we round the corner that leads to the elevators, we spot Dr. Barbie with the resident I spilled soup on a few weeks ago. Cosmos lets go of my hand immediately, but not before Samantha notices. She’s like a Cosmos homing beckon. I wonder if they have some kind of history together.
The smile she gives us is strained.
“My mom signed out today,” I blurt out, wanting to erase the tension, but immediately realizing she probably already knows.
Dr. Barbie looks at Cosmos with raised eyebrows and pinched lips. The other resident smirks and shakes his head. Cosmos doesn’t take my hand again. I thought it was okay for us to be together now that Mom isn’t a patient, but the way they’re reacting makes me think it’s not as cut and dry as that.
“Are you both headed to lunch?” Cosmos’ smile doesn’t reach his eyes. I’m not sure when I figured out the difference between his real smile and his fake one, but I know this is completely fake. There’s something strained at the edges of it, like there’s more going on here than I understand.
The elevator opens with a ding, and a woman with a small boy gets off. Dr. Barbie steps into the elevator and holds open the door.
“Yeah, you coming?” the other resident replies to Cosmos’ question.
“Grab me a cob salad, would you, Viraj? I’ll meet you down there in a few minutes. Miss Berton had a few questions about her mom before leaving.”
They look from Cosmos to me, and I smile nervously.
It’s clear they aren’t buying it, which might be because of the hand-holding, but might equally be because Cosmos’ hair is a sexy mess.
Or the flush to my cheeks. Or how swollen our lips are.
I want to reach out and smooth his hair down, but that would definitely make things worse.
I nonchalantly run a hand through my own hair, hoping it’s not as bad as his.
“Why don’t we all ride down together so we can help answer any questions you have?” Dr. Barbie smiles sweetly, but my stomach drops.
She’s got us trapped, so we step into the elevator, and the doors close behind us.
“Was there anything else you wanted to ask, Miss Berton, or did I answer all of your questions?” Cosmos says. He looks at me, and time slams to a stop. The hum of the elevator is gone. Samantha and Viraj are statues.
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “I thought this,” I wave a hand between us, “was okay now.”
Cosmos sighs, and his eyes pinch around the edges. “It is, but starting something up so quickly raises some questions. I’m not really ready for the rest of the surgical team to give me a hard time about it.”
“That makes sense.” I guess.
“And if your mom has any complications and ends up back here…”
We shouldn’t do this. It’s complicated and has the potential to get even more complicated. But… after that kiss, I don’t think I can just walk away. Not yet. “What do we do?”
He takes my hand and, without breaking eye contact, kisses the inside of my palm. “We take it one step at a time.”
When he lets go, he looks away, and I struggle to remember what it was he asked me right before we stopped time. “Ummm… I don’t think I have any more questions.”
The doors open onto the lobby, and Cosmos steps out first, holding his hand across the door to keep it open as the rest of us exit the elevator. “Well, if anything comes up, let us know.”
Dr. Barbie and Viraj file past him and wait a foot or two away, watching. Cosmos holds out his hand, as if to shake. I take it awkwardly and realize there’s something in his palm. A card. I smile. “Thank you, Dr. Romero.”
As soon as I get to my car, I look at what he gave me. It’s a business card with a personal phone number written on the back.