Chapter 13

Lainey

For a non-date, it was really pathetic how much I thought about it for the rest of the week. Somehow, our schedules never seemed to align, which meant unless we were grabbing a quick bite in the lounge or chatting between surgeries, we were stuck texting if we wanted to have any sort of substantive communication.

At least, I was. Sam wasn’t super talkative to begin with. I was hoping he’d be easier to engage over text. I discovered that while he was down to flirt and happy to banter, he waited for me to initiate our conversations.

And thank God that I did. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known what to wear (gym clothes, then stuff for walking around) or what to expect (hit the gym, then walk around).

Bright and early Saturday morning, I met him in front of my building wearing a matching workout set that I’d spent too much time deciding on. I’d stuffed my duffel with a cute little romper and my makeup bag, which had never even seen the inside of a gym before.

He put his emergency lights on when he hopped out to open the door for me, despite there being only a few cars on the road. The butterflies in my stomach rioted, which was ridiculous. I’d known this man for years. Walked shoulder to shoulder with him down the hospital halls countless times. But the simple brush of his hand against my shoulder made me want to wiggle.

The shimmer in my stomach didn’t go away, especially after he handed me an insulated mug of iced peppermint tea after sliding back behind the wheel. He looked good in his athletic shirt that stretched across his chest perfectly and dark gray workout shorts that hugged his thighs. It wasn’t anything special, but dang was it attractive.

After a few pleasantries, we lapsed into silence. The quiet drive felt cozy and charged. I could feel the potential energy building up between us.

“I guess I thought you’d be chattier on a non-date.”

Sam’s eyes flickered over to me. “You look incredible today.”

“In my workout clothes?” I laughed. Maybe I had spent a little extra time putting some bounce in my ponytail and swiping on a layer of mascara (both ridiculous because they’d fall the second I started to sweat), but I wasn’t sure I looked any better today than I usually did.

“Yes.” Sam’s response was quick and emphatic. “The leggings.”

“The leggings. Booty guy, are you?”

“With you, everything guy.”

I nearly inhaled my tea. “I’m flattered.”

“Well, you know—hmm.” He pulled his car into a spot by the gym, eying the lime green Jeep next to us. “I didn’t know she’d be here.”

“She?”

“My mother.”

“Seems a little early in our non-relationship to meet the parents,” I commented after he popped my door open.

He frowned, kicking at one of the back tires on the Jeep. “I was talking to yours just last week.”

“Ah, well, nevermind.”

“Ma,” Sam chided, holding the gym door open for me. The woman behind the desk looked up. His mother had a shock of hair dyed a bright, boxed-copper shade. Freckles and wrinkles lined her tan skin.

“The fucking screen is frozen on the inventory page again. And we don’t even sell any fucking inventory here, so why does this fucking screen even exist? Sorry, dear.” She smiled at me as Sam began clicking around on the computer. “Just one moment and I can sign you in. Technology and I don’t mix.”

“Try that.” Sam swiped the barcode on his keychain and tapped a few buttons. “There you go.”

“Well, thank fuck. I thought I was going to get fired on my first day.” She winked at me. “Alright, sugar, you give it a try.”

Sam’s mother pumped her arms when I swiped without incident. “Hell yes! Oh, and look at that. Your name’s Elaina? I have a dear, dear friend named Elaine. Moved down to Florida a few years ago. Couldn’t take the cold, you know.” She leaned in closer. “Started dating some younger man. Not even in his fifties.”

“Get it, Elaine.” I grinned. Sam gave me a look, warning me not to encourage her.

“Oh, sugar, that’s what I said! Anyway, I’ll let you two get to your workout. I’m June, by the way, Honey. I’m helping Will out a bit. Let me know if you need anything while you’re here!”

“Nice to meet you, June.”

“You, too!” She waved as Sam led me further into the gym.

“Your mother curses like a sailor.”

“I really didn’t know she’d be here today.” Sam glared as Will strolled up. “A little warning would have been nice.” Will shrugged.

“We needed the help. I’ve been going crazy.”

“Yeah, about that,” I scowled. “I tried to register for a class on Tuesday and the system said it was full. I thought I was your favorite regular?”

“You are, obviously. Text me next time and I can just write you in. Always a spot for you.” Will winked.

“Stop flirting.” Something about Sam’s growly voice really worked for me.

“She started it!”

“She’s allowed.”

Will’s jaw dropped. “Bullshit. She gets preferential treatment over your own brother?” He scowled when Sam didn’t answer. “Right. Okay, you’re going to pay for that. You’ll all pay for it!” He clapped his hands before ordering us into a brutal set of sprints.

I took a quick shower after the workout. When I stepped out of the locker room, Sam waited for me across the gym, also showered and dressed in a cotton t-shirt and khaki shorts. He was in deep conversation with Will and Connor, but his attention snapped to me as soon as I stepped into the gym. My skin tingled where his eyes scanned me from head to toe.

“You ready?”

“Wait, we haven’t worked this out. I’ve got clients all day. I don’t have time to take it down to the shop.” Conner nodded a greeting at me as I sidled up to them.

“It’s a slow leak. It needs a patch, not a trip to the mechanic.” Will scoffed.

Sam clapped his brothers on the back. “I’m out. If our mother gets a flat later, it’s on you.” He stepped away. From the groans and choruses of denial from his brothers, you’d have thought he had told them to cheer for the White Sox. He grunted in annoyance.

“Everything alright?” I asked, waving to June as he led me back outside.

“Mom’s tire pressure is low again. They’re whining about who’s going to fix it.”

“Let me guess, that’s usually more your thing.” He squinted as I ducked into the passenger seat, holding the door open with one hand, the other braced on the hood of his car. I’d caught him off guard.

“Maybe.” He looked at me for another moment. “You like croissants?”

I reared back as if slapped. “What kind of question even is that? Obviously, I do.”

Sam smiled that quiet smile of his. “Good.”

◆◆◆

He claimed we could find the best croissants in the city on the fourteenth floor of an office building on the Loop. He was not wrong. As I marveled at the selection, trying to decide which I wanted, Sam was already ordering. Fruit-filled, chocolate-filled, brownie filled—he ordered six of them. I almost protested because surely between the two of us, we couldn’t put away six pastries, but I remembered our breakfast at Molido, and how quickly we’d taken care of a full plate, so I remained silent. A wise choice, since they were all delicious.

This early, Chicago was still waking up. We had our pick of tables on the outdoor patio overlooking the river. Chicago’s mercurial spring had turned chilly overnight and fog covered the city.

Before we’d parked, Sam had pulled on a thin quarter-zip and offered me his Cedar Patagonia. I had the same one at home, just about four or five sizes smaller. His swamped me and ruined the effect of my breezy, backless romper, but I was warm while I ate. It smelled good, too—like, superb—and I snuck sniffs while he wasn’t looking.

We eased into our conversation, talking about the weather and how the Bears were looking this year. By unspoken agreement, we stayed away from work-related topics. I liked the idea of keeping my attending, Dr. Reese, separate from the guy I was kind of, not really, dating, Sam.

The more I got to know him, the more I understood he was top-tier boyfriend material: generous, smart, funny (when he wanted to speak). Even before our dating trial agreement, I’d been increasingly interested in him. It was becoming a problem.

“So, what’s your deal?” I looked him up and down. He’d run his fingers through his hair a few times and it was sticking up on one side. Very cute.

“My deal?”

“Yeah. You know my deal. Tragic betrayal, absentee parents, perfectionist coping mechanisms, blah, blah, blah. I know why I’m still single. What’s your excuse?”

“Being cheated on isn’t an excuse, Lainey. That’s trauma. You’re allowed to process that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think my processing phase has actually turned out to be more of an avoidance phase.”

He nodded, looking me over. “I’d avoid people, too, if that guy and his stupid face had done that to me.”

I laughed, surprised to find that talking about my ex didn’t make me want to curl up in bed and wallow. “He does have a stupid face.”

“I know.” Sam shrugged.

“Katie said you were kind of mean to him at the reception. Cold, or something.”

“I could tell you didn’t like him. I knew there had to be a reason.”

He was so, so cute…and big, barely squeezing into the bistro chair across from me. He split the croissants neatly down the middle so we each had an equal serving, but if one half ended up bigger than the other, he slipped the larger piece onto my side of the plate. To top it all off, when he’d met my stupid ex and seen how uncomfortable the guy made me, he’d immediately sided with me. No questions asked.

“How are you single? Seriously?”

“Dating usually requires conversation. Not my strong suit, if you haven’t noticed. Plus, not many women outside the medical field understand how challenging it is to get through med school and residency.”

“Not a ton of time for extracurriculars.”

“Exactly. It’s hard to have a life outside of work until you’re an attending, and at that point, all a woman sees is a guy in his mid-thirties who doesn’t talk and has never really had a serious relationship. It gives serial killer vibes.”

I nearly spat out my tea, giggling. “You do not give serial killer vibes.”

“You say that because you know me. Everyone else assumes there’s something wrong with me.”

“Is there?” I sat back in my chair. A breeze fluttered past, lacking the chill I’d felt when we’d sat down. Sam paused to think. Again, I was struck by how much I liked his quiet consideration. Most people on a first non-date would have brushed off the question or made a joke out of it.

“Probably. Everyone has something.” He looked out over the city where the fog was beginning to burn off. “Hard to be the oldest kid in a single-parent home. My mom did her best, but I was responsible for Will and Con a lot. I resented it, sometimes.”

“Hard to be a kid when you can’t just be a kid,” I commiserated. He nodded, glancing down at his coffee. “Do you resent it now? How much you help your family?”

His attention fixed on me, pensive. “I wouldn’t say I help them more than the usual amount.” My mind readily supplied multiple examples just from the last week that told a different story. Sam leading our workout at the gym when it was crowded, handing Jas her favorite drink and telling her to sit. That kick he’d aimed at his mother’s back tire.

“I guess, since I grew up taking care of everyone, it’s become a habit. I’m not good at putting myself first. That can be a problem. You are good at advocating for yourselfwith patients or other doctors. Will’s that way, too. I wish I were better about asking for what I want.”

I shrugged off the compliment. “Product of being an only child with busy parents. Kinda selfish, kinda bossy. I’m not sure what Will’s excuse is. Sometimes I wish I were more introspective, though, or more considerate, like you.”

“Considerate. Doormat. Same concept.”

“That’s not true. You got that one nurse fired.”

“Well, he was lying about dosages.”

“And you’re a total ball-buster with the Fellows.”

He shook his head. “You walk all over me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, mister ‘OR request denied. Jones can take you down a few pegs till you remember patients are people, too.’”

Sam grimaced, gazing at the skyline again. “That’s not how I meant that.”

“That’s exactly what you meant!” I laughed. Now that I had some distance from the moment, Sam’s approach made sense to me. I’d lost sight of the patient. I was a surgeon, but I wasn’t so egotistical that I couldn’t see my own mistakes. “And it’s fine, because you handled it like a total badass. You know how to get people’s best out of them. You should be proud of that.”

“A badass,” he repeated, the sides of his mouth tilting up. The concept seemed novel to him, like he’d never considered himself that way before. “The resident stuff is fun. Teaching. And if it makes you feel better, I spent nearly half of my next meeting with Caplan talking about how amazing you are.”

“Oh? Tell me more.” I batted my eyes and swirled the ice in my cup.

“That surgery with Cooper last month? Incredible. All the nurses love you. All of them. Even the cranky ones.” Sam mirrored me, sitting back with his mug. “Your sutures make me want to weep.”

I clutched my chest, acting like the compliment had taken my breath away. It had. “No one’s ever complimented my sutures on a date before.”

“So clean. Minimal scarring. Perfect consistency.” Sam’s voice raked, raising goosebumps across my arms that had nothing to do with the chill still hanging in the air. I’d never considered discussing stitches to be a form of foreplay.

More. More of him. More of this.

“I hope you know I’ll be thinking of this conversation the next time I have to stitch someone up.”

Sam’s grin chased away the last of the fog.