13. Frankie

THIRTEEN

Frankie

UAB Hospital

11:41 pm

I rush through the hospital corridors, my heart pounding in my chest. When I finally reach the room where Carly is resting, waiting for tests and scans, I lose it. The moment I see her, lying there with a neck brace on, her face pale and bruised, I can't keep my normally stoic facade up. I'm at her side in an instant, my hand finding hers, holding on as if that alone could keep her safe.

"Carly," I whisper, my voice trembling with emotion. Her eyes flutter open, and she gives me a weak smile, but it's enough to break my heart all over again. Seeing her like this—so fragile, so quiet—tears at something deep inside me.

"I'm here," I tell her, squeezing her hand gently. "I'm not going anywhere."

She tries to speak, but her voice is barely above a whisper. "Frankie. Thank you for coming. I'm okay."

I shake my head, my eyes filling with tears. "Of course I came! You don't have to say that. Just rest, okay? You're safe now."

She nods slightly, her eyes closing again, and I can see how much effort it takes for her to even keep them open. I look up, my gaze meeting Hunter's across the bed. He's standing there, watching us with a mixture of concern and genuine care.

As the nurses come in to take Carly to imaging, I reluctantly let go of her hand, stepping back to give them space. Hunter and I follow them out, and once Carly is out of sight, I finally turn to him.

"What happened?" I ask, my voice strained with worry. I didn't want to ask him in front of her.

Hunter's expression is serious, but there's a gentleness in his eyes that surprises me. "She was hit by a car. It was a hit-and-run. I found her right after it happened, and I did what I could to stabilize her until the paramedics arrived. I couldn't just leave her there, so I rode with her in the ambulance to make sure she wasn't alone."

The seriousness of his words sinks in, and a surge of gratitude fills me. He didn't have to do any of this—Carly and Hunter aren't particularly close, and he could have just called for help and moved on. But he didn't. He stayed. He took it upon himself to make sure she was taken care of.

"Thank you," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for being there for her, for taking care of her. It means more than you know."

Hunter shakes his head slightly, as if brushing off the praise. "I did what anyone would do."

"No," I insist, taking a step closer. "It wasn't your responsibility to do all of this. You could have just waited for the paramedics, but you didn't stop there. You stayed with her, made sure she wasn't alone. That means something. Thank you, I truly mean it."

He looks at me for a long moment, his expression softening. "I didn't want her to be alone. Waking up in a situation like that, not knowing what's going on, can be super scary. I couldn't let that happen to her."

His words hit me deeply, and I find myself blinking back tears. There's so much more to Hunter than I ever realized, and right now, all I have for this man is gratitude. Gratitude that he was there when Carly needed someone, and gratitude that he called me so I could be here too.

"Thank you," I say again, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, a small smile touching his lips. "You don't have to thank me, Frankie. I'm just glad she's going to be okay."

"We are going to have to stop running into each other like this," I say, trying to create some levity. I've now slept with this man, am working with him on my life's work, and now he has seen me cry. The trifecta no other man has had the privilege of experiencing with me.

"We do tend to have a knack for that, don't we?"

As we sit there, the comfortable silence between us starts to settle, my mind inevitably drifting back to the meeting we had earlier today. The trial has been consuming my thoughts for weeks now.

And despite everything that's happened tonight, it's still there, lingering at the edge of my mind.

I glance over at Hunter, wondering if now is the right time to broach the subject. He's been surprisingly open tonight, and more relaxed than I've ever seen him. Maybe that's why I feel the need to ask, to see if there's anything more we can discuss now that we're not in a formal setting.

"So," I start, hesitating for just a moment, "about the trial… I've been thinking about what you said earlier today, about the concerns you had with the data."

Hunter turns his attention fully to me, his expression serious but open. "Yeah? What about it?"

"I've been going over your points in my head," I continue, "and I see where you're coming from. I think there's definitely some room to adjust the parameters we're using, especially in terms of the patient selection criteria. We want to make sure we're targeting the right group for this to be successful."

He nods, considering my words. "I agree. It's not that I don't trust the data, it's just… we can't afford to overlook anything. If this goes to human trials… Let me correct myself, when it goes to human trials, it has to be flawless. We can't take any chances."

His dedication to the project, to ensuring it's as perfect as possible, resonates with me. It's one reason I respect him so much as a surgeon. He's not just driven; he's relentless in his pursuit of excellence.

"I've already started making some adjustments," I tell him, sensing that familiar passion rise within me. "I think if we tweak a few things, we'll not only address your concerns, but we might also improve the overall effectiveness of the pacemaker."

Hunter's eyes light up with interest, and I can tell he's genuinely engaged. "You're already working on it?"

I nod, a small smile playing on my lips. "Of course. This project means everything to me, Hunter. I want to get it right. Of course, we just spoke about it, so it is on paper right now, but yes, I've got some ideas."

He leans back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know, Frankie, I think we make a good team. I know I can be hard on people, but I'm glad to be working with you on this. Thank you for trusting my insight."

His words catch me off guard, and a warmth spreads through my chest. "I'm glad you're on board too. Your input has already made a difference, and I agree, together, we can really make this work."

"Let's keep pushing forward," Hunter says finally, his voice full of quiet determination. "We've got something good here, Frankie. I know it."

"Yeah," I agree, meeting his gaze. "We do."

Wednesday, May 22

7:06 am

The first rays of morning light filter through the blinds in Carly's hospital room, casting a soft glow over the sterile white walls. I shift slightly on the recliner that served as my makeshift bed for the night, blinking the sleep from my eyes. It wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, but surprisingly, it wasn't as bad as I'd expected.

Carly stirs in the bed beside me, her eyes fluttering open. I sit up a little straighter, instantly alert, watching as she takes in her surroundings.

"Morning," I say softly, giving her a small smile.

"Morning," she replies, her voice still groggy. She shifts in bed, wincing slightly as the movement reminds her of her injuries. "How are you feeling?" I ask, concern evident in my tone.

"Like I got hit by a car," she jokes, but there's a hint of pain behind her smile. "But seriously, I'm okay. Sore, but okay."

The doctors had gone over her scans late last night, and while the news was reassuring, it had still been a long night. Carly was fortunate—her scans showed no broken bones and her concussion was mild. She stayed the night for observation, but everything else came back clear. The car hadn't been going fast; it had only clipped her leg. The real damage occurred due to the way she had been thrown by the impact and how she had landed.

"You're really lucky," I say, my voice filled with relief. "It could have been so much worse."

"I know," she agrees, her expression softening. "But you didn't have to stay, you know. I'm an ER nurse—I know the drill. Being in the hospital doesn't freak me out like it does most people."

I shake my head, reaching out to take her hand. "I wasn't going to leave you alone, Carly. Not before we knew exactly what we were dealing with. Besides, the recliner wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

She squeezes my hand, a grateful smile on her lips. "Thanks, Frankie. You're a good friend. As if you don't have enough on your plate."

"Of course," I reply, squeezing back. "You practically live at my house. It's only fitting that I move in with you to your hospital room."

"What did you decide to do about your dad?"

"I met with him, but let's not go into that right now. I'll tell you everything soon, just not now. Change of subject."

"I can appreciate that. When you're ready, let's talk about it."

"Deal."

Carly's smile turns sly, and she tilts her head slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Okaaaaay. So… Hunter was here last night."

I try to keep my expression neutral, but a flush of hot redness creeps up my neck. "Um, yeah. He was your knight in shining armor."

"More like yours, I'd say. You two seemed pretty cozy," she teases, her voice light despite the discomfort she must be experiencing.

I roll my eyes, trying to brush off her comment. "Carly, we were just waiting together. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" She raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "I don't know, Frankie. He was here for me, but he stayed for you."

I open my mouth to protest, but the words don't come. Instead, my mind flashes back to the way Hunter had looked at me last night, the warmth in his eyes, the way he'd made me laugh when I needed it most. He'd been there for Carly, yes, but… had he also been there for me?

Lucky for me, he was still wearing that to-die-for-running attire. I couldn't get enough of stolen glances.

"Don't read too much into it," I finally say, trying to sound dismissive. "He's just…he's a good guy."

Carly doesn't respond right away, but she's watching me closely, a knowing look in her eyes. "Sure," she says after a moment, her tone suggesting she's not entirely convinced. "If you say so."

I turn my attention to the window, trying to push away the thoughts that have been creeping into my mind ever since last night. It's ridiculous, really, to think there could be anything more between Hunter and me. We're colleagues, end of story. Sure, we slept together, but both of us seem to have written that off as a one-off, nothing to it. But even as I try to convince myself of that, I can't help but replay our conversations. The way he'd made me feel so… seen.

"Anyway," Carly says, breaking the silence, "I'm just glad you were both there for me. It made everything a lot less scary. Thank you."

I nod, finally meeting her gaze again. "You know I've got your back, Carly. Always. And it looks like I'm not the only one."

"Yeah," she says with a smile. "I know you do. Hey, you know what really sucks?"

"That you're going to have to eat the shitty hospital breakfast?"

"Well, yes, that. But you know what else? I'm going to miss the fucking gala this weekend. The one thing I was looking forward to. And where am I going to wear that kickass dress?"

"Oh, Carly. I'm so sorry! I wish I could be laid up here in your place and let you go for me. I know you were so looking forward to it."

"Don't worry. Just take copious notes on every detail and fill me in afterwards. God it?"

"Got it."

As the morning continues to brighten the room, a sense of calm settles over me. Carly is going to be okay, and that is what matters most. But even as I focus on my friend, I can't completely shake the thoughts of Hunter—the way he'd been there when I needed someone, the way he'd shown a side of himself I hadn't seen before, not only for me but for someone else.

Maybe there's more there to explore there than I've been willing to admit.