Chapter 32
"Erin."
The doctor, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back turned as she pulls on her pants, spins around, stands, and finishes tugging them up.
"Hey, hi," she murmurs, walking barefoot around to the other side of the bed. "I was going to go downstairs for coffee — I didn't want to wake you. How are you feeling?"
The woman with storm-gray eyes sits down beside her.
It's early, barely seven in the morning, and for the first time Mia has slept after a concert without spending hours with her pulse racing, hunting down some woman for comfort and smoking a joint afterward.
They'd stayed a while longer until she felt more clearheaded, then headed back to the hotel, where Erin had climbed into the shower with her because she was afraid to let her go in alone.
Afterward she'd checked again that her vitals were within normal range and that Mia wasn't showing any symptoms or pain beyond the cramping in her belly.
She'd given her a painkiller for the discomfort and lay down with her.
Several uncomfortable minutes passed while the singer's pain was intense enough to make her curl up, the doctor rubbing her back, trying to ease the tension out of her.
When the pill finally started working, Mia was so exhausted she fell asleep.
It took Erin longer — the scare was still lodged in her body and her cheek throbbed — but eventually she gave in to sleep too.
"It hurts," the singer says, rolling onto her side with one hand pressed to her belly. Erin leans over and presses a kiss to her temple.
"I'll order breakfast so you can take another painkiller."
Fifteen minutes later, Mia has a tray across her lap and Erin is sitting cross-legged beside her while they eat.
"Does it hurt?" Mia asks, nodding toward her cheek before swallowing the pill with her orange juice.
"A little." Erin runs her fingers carefully over the bruise and winces.
"I'm sorry," the singer says, genuinely upset.
The doctor winks at her to ease the guilt, and Mia feels a little squeeze in her stomach that makes her sigh.
"It's not your fault. If anything, it was mine for sticking my head where it didn't belong."
Mia lets out a laugh and then grimaces, pressing her palm to her belly.
"Does it always hurt this much?" Erin asks, because she's been with her for a little over two months now and doesn't remember Mia ever complaining.
"No, just sometimes, but it's a bitch."
Erin nods, privately thinking that it was probably part of what caused the faint — the blood loss weakening her — but she doesn't say it out loud. She doesn't want to plant that fear in Mia's body every time her period comes.
"I know. From now on, when you start feeling symptoms that it's coming, I want you to let me know, okay? Don't wait until it does."
"Okay."
"I'll talk to Noah about getting some bloodwork done for you this week."
"Again? I had it done in Boston and everything was perfect," the singer protests.
"I just want to make sure it stays that way. Finish your breakfast."
"You know you look like a total badass, right?" Mia says out of nowhere, nodding toward Erin's cheek. "Cargo pants, tight T-shirts, those leather bracelets, and now that bruise on your face... You're incredibly hot."
The doctor laughs.
"Good to know."
"You're also hot in suits like the one at the gala, when you walk around the room in those boxer briefs, or when you're completely naked — all of it works," Mia continues.
"Are you saying all this to seduce me?" Erin teases, draining her coffee and moving the tray off Mia's lap when they finish.
"I'm saying all this because I need you to know it — to understand that you're not some impulse to me, that I catch myself staring at you while you sleep, that I want to hug you all the time, and that I'm not just looking for something that only happens inside this hotel room.
I want to go out with you. Take you to dinner, go for a walk, go anywhere you feel like visiting. "
Erin shifts and moves closer.
"You want to have this conversation right now?"
"Yes. I need us to clear this up once and for all, because I think you don't do well with uncertainty."
The doctor exhales a small laugh through her nose.
"You're right," she admits. "I'm so new to this that I need to know what's actually happening. I'm not okay not knowing whether this is a fling we enjoy until my contract ends or whether it's something that could keep going after."
"I want it to keep going." Mia is nervous — terrified, really, at the thought of Erin pulling back. "I'm sure about how I feel about you. I told you yesterday, Erin — I want this to work. But I don't know what you want or what you expect from it."
The doctor smiles at her, because this part she does know clearly.
"I want it to keep going too, Mia. What I can't see is how it would actually be possible."
"Why not? I'm not on tour forever. You live in New York and so do I — well, when I'm not on tour." She makes a face, and Erin smiles back, taking her hand.
She notices how small Mia's hand looks inside hers — they're nearly a full head apart in height — and for how tiny the singer is, the strength and determination she carries in her keeps catching Erin off guard.
"But tours are long. They last months, and in that time, how often do you think I'd actually be able to get away to come see you? And you barely get any days off."
Mia bites her lip, because she knows she has a point.
"We have to be realistic, honey."
"I wouldn't cheat on you, if that's what you're afraid of." Mia's voice cracks slightly at the end.
"Maybe not at first." Erin moves closer.
"But as we go longer without seeing each other, what we have will cool off even if we don't want it to.
And you'll be surrounded by women every single day who are dying to sleep with you.
I get that — it's not an accusation. I'll have needs too, and you won't be there.
I don't have experience in relationships, Mia, but I don't think they work long-distance, not when we're talking months at a time. "
"Do you like your work here with me?" the singer asks.
Erin looks at her, thrown off, turning it over — she's not sure what the question is leading to.
"Yes, of course."
"I mean really like it, Erin. You're used to treating dozens of patients a month. Right now you're only treating me."
The doctor, feeling lazy this morning, lets herself fall back against the mattress and tucks her arms behind her head, staring up at the ceiling while the girl with lavender hair watches her.
She takes her time thinking through the answer, and the singer waits patiently, turned toward her, running her fingers through Erin's hair.
"I've been running on autopilot for a long time," Erin starts at last. "I wasn't feeling anything.
I'd go to the hospital, do what I know how to do as well as I could, and come home to my apartment feeling like nothing had happened except another day going by.
I took the MediSupport job because it meant filling my free hours.
I had a good time with Barry, my partner, and even though we usually didn't have to step in, I liked it better than being at the hospital.
Out there I felt useful — improvising, working with what I had on hand, like with you. "
"I'm sorry you felt that way."
Erin's phone buzzes on the nightstand and she glances over as the screen lights up, but decides she'll check it later.
"Would you quit the hospital?"
Erin tilts her head to look up at her.
"MediSupport is event work — it's not something you can actually live on."
"I'm not talking about MediSupport. I'm talking about working with me full-time."
The doctor rolls over onto her elbows, and Mia stretches out on her side facing her.
"Would you? Not for us — because you love this job," the singer clarifies.
"You could be the team's doctor, not just mine.
Noah has stomach issues — half the meals make him feel terrible, and he'd really benefit from a sexy doctor looking after him.
And you've already seen how many of us there are — about fifty people moving with this tour.
The dancers get hurt, there are GI bugs, sometimes food poisoning, sometimes the other kind.
" She raises her eyebrows, clearly delighted with herself, and Erin watches her with a smile.
"I promise you wouldn't be short on work. "
"That's a beautiful idea, Mia, but what happens when there's no tour?"
"When there's no tour, you're all mine." Her crooked smile makes an appearance.
"My fainting spells don't disappear just because the tour stops, do they?
I'm still at risk, and I need a doctor managing it the way you are now.
If it's not you, it'll be someone else — but either way, it'll happen.
The label doesn't want to take any chances on me passing out in the middle of an interview, a photo shoot, or a recording session.
Trust me, they'll assign someone. That someone could be you, if the idea appeals to you. "
"It appeals to me almost as much as you do," Erin whispers, catching her lips.
Mia gasps with pure want and lets out a dramatic little whine when the doctor pulls back.
"No sex today."
"See? What other doctor would have the power to ban me from that?"
Erin laughs.
"Don't blackmail me, Wilder."
"I'm not," Mia says, though the mischievous smile won't leave her face.
"Let me think about it, okay?"
"Of course." Mia curls up and pulls the sheet over herself.
"The pain still hasn't let up?"
"It has, but it's slow. I think I'm going to close my eyes for a bit."
"Okay. I'm going down to the gym. I'll have my phone on me — call me if you need anything," Erin says.
Mia murmurs something Erin can't make out, and Erin leaves the room to go work out.
There are barely two other people in the gym when she walks in.
She sits down on a bench against the wall, scanning the machines and deciding where to start — but she finds herself thinking about the singer's proposal almost immediately.
Even though it had never figured into any of the scenarios she'd imagined, she's liked the idea from the moment Mia said it.
She likes working with Mia, traveling with the tour, how easy everything feels out here.
She can picture herself as the doctor for all of them, and that prospect motivates her even more than she already is.
They'd become recurring patients — people she could actually help, with real continuity, instead of a constant stream of strangers who hold back half their history because they don't trust her yet.
It would also solve her problem with Mia.
They'd be able to see each other regularly while still keeping their independence.
On tour, two separate rooms even if they usually ended up in the same bed; off tour, she has her apartment and Mia has her house.
The only thing that unsettles her is what happens if things between them don't work out, but since she's sick of worrying about everything, she decides to trust that they're both mature enough to handle it if it comes to that.
She laughs to herself picturing the scenario, because she's pretty sure they'd just reset to the beginning: she'd be prickly and Mia would be the same provocative girl she first met, but she's sure they'd end up getting along fine.
She stands up and pulls her phone out of her pocket to make sure Mia hasn't texted her — and that's when she sees the earlier notification, a message from her sister Brooke.
Brooke Dooley
You're hooking up with her and you can't even introduce her to your own sister? What's going on — did having a famous girlfriend go to your head? No wonder you're so alone if you're this selfish.
Erin sits back down, unsettled. She hadn't expected Brooke to come around this quickly — hadn't even been sure she was capable of it — but this was definitely not what she'd expected, and she can't stop wondering whether she herself has something to do with the cruelty that seems to live in her sister.
She taps to delete the message, but when the confirmation prompt appears, she changes her mind and leaves it in the thread — a reminder of exactly what kind of person her sister is, for the next time she feels the urge to call and check in on her.
She closes the app and scrolls to Barry's name in her contacts. It's been days since they talked, and he's also the first person she wants to share her decision with.