Chapter 22

Lainey

An atrial fibrillation ablation was the kind of thing that made even me, an almost fully-trained heart surgeon, go “Whoa, what?”

A catheter fed through an artery, a few electrical pulses and presto chango, we blocked abnormal signals to restore standard rhythm to the heart. Scientific wizardry. On top of all that, Reese was going to use the same catheter to repair a problem with the patient’s mitral valve, which wasn’t closing properly.

A delicate procedure, and a long one. But it flew.

After years of medical school, residency, and fellowship training, the OR was practically my second home. I was more comfortable here than in my apartment. But days like today, cases like this— teams like this—still gave me goosebumps. It was an honor to be here, and an absolute privilege.

Seven hours after entering the OR, I’d officially witnessed my first in-person ablation, and Sam had allowed me to personally implant the MitraClip to close the patient’s malfunctioning valve. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face as I scrubbed out next to Dr. West, the electrophysiologist who had come from Loyola to assist. Sam’s surgery playlist still trickled through the speakers in the OR, “Come and Get Your Love” making its way into the scrub room.

“Great work today!” I called to two nurses wheeling a heart monitor out of the OR.

“You nailed it, Carmichael.” Mary, one of the nurses, stopped to chat while I dried my hands. Dr. West shuffled by, humming along.

“It was flawless,” I agreed, swaying my shoulders back and forth to the music. We’d been like a well-oiled machine. It was a kind of surgery magic that didn’t happen very often. But when it did…I added a little hip wiggle and a few shuffles when the nurses joined, moving to the beat. Mary burst out laughing at something behind me.

My smile grew when I spotted Sam behind me, matching my shoulder sways move-for-move.

Our eyes met, and a different sort of magic swelled. My heart squeezed and my stomach felt weightless, like I was on a roller coaster. I grinned when he made his way closer, leaning back and forth with me to the music.

I wasn’t sure if my face gave it away, or if he was just watching me that closely , but when I double-timed my shimmies to switch direction, he mirrored my every move on the beat. My laughter blended in with the nurses as they hooted and clapped, joining us in our impromptu dance party. Mary cackled when Sam did some sort of fancy footwork, reaching out to twirl me under his arm.

It felt like some sort of bizarre dream. My feet were killing me and I was exhausted, but the high of the successful surgery, performed side-by-side with this incredible man, was too much to ignore. Sam dropped my hand, dipping Mary when she shimmied past.

“Is this a Cedar thing? Surgical dance parties?” Dr. West grinned, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone. We all laughed. No. It wasn’t a Cedar thing. It was just a happy thing. I got into some serious finger guns and arm rolling with Sheila, one of our surgical assistants. Cameron and Mary started to hip bump. We were all making fools out of ourselves, dancing in the scrub room. Through it all, Sam and I rocked together back and forth, perfectly matched, step for step.

◆◆◆

It should have been seamless. Sam and I had planned this all week: We’d hand off Mrs. Singh to a resident for post-op, finish our documentation, do any last-minute patient checks, and then hightail it out the door to his place.

My bag was packed. I’d anticipated his hands on my body all week long. The patient was recovering nicely and my notes were done.

The only issue: I was so exhausted, I could barely sit up straight.

Even for the most seasoned surgeon, seven hours in the OR was a lot. You couldn’t just sit around, either. You were on, mentally and physically, monitoring about seven different things at once. Oh, and also physically rearranging things underneath someone’s skin.

So, despite all the anticipation and immaculate planning, hour fourteen at the hospital found me posted up outside of a patient’s room. I was still on my feet, but barely. The wall was doing most of the work for me.

“Almost done. Give me one minute and we can go,” Sam said, ducking into the room. I didn’t have the energy to respond.

As much as I wanted to get up under his scrubs, I worried I wouldn’t have it in me tonight. I liked him so much, but I was fried. I needed food and sleep. Then, maybe, I’d think about getting into his pants.

“Nice work today. Heard it was a success.” The smile Jones gave me as he passed by probably qualified as more of a sneer. “Racking up those OR points just in time for your next interview.”

“Fuck off, Jones! For God’s sake, let her have her moment. There are plenty of scalpels to go around, you asshat.” Rija took in my weak smile as she chased Jones away from me. “Don’t let him get to you. You should be glowing. I heard the surgery went off without a hitch.”

“Rija, it was so amazing. Such a cool procedure and the patient is doing great. Just a long day.”

“Oof, I know. Long OR days are killer. You should go home and get some rest. Didn’t your shift end a few hours ago?”

I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “Have to talk with Dr. Reese about something before I head out.” Vagueness was my friend. I didn’t have the energy to come up with a lie right now.

Just then, Sam stepped out of the patient’s room, closing the door softly. Rija swatted at him with her clipboard. “Congrats, Reese. I’m already hearing good things about that surgery.”

He inclined his head to me. “Pays to have a good team. Dr. Carmichael handled the implant.”

Rija whistled. “Look at you, fancy pants! We’ll make a full surgeon out of you, yet!”

“Ah, he’s just—” I stopped short, nearly about to tell Rija that he was biased. Oh, God, I was tired. “Being nice,” I covered with a little shrug.

“Still. Big deal. We should celebrate. I’m off late tomorrow night?”

“Oh, ah, I can’t tomorrow. Next week?” Heat rose to my cheeks.

“Let’s do it! Great job again, you two. Have a good one!” She strode down the hall, leaving Reese and I to trudge towards the locker rooms. Together.

My sluggish mind raced, considering my dilemma from all angles. Maybe I could grab a Red Bull on the way out. Maybe I could power through and the sex would be great despite being nearly dead on my feet. Maybe I could just go home and meet him tomorrow, even though every fiber of my being insisted that I stay with him.

Caught up in my exhaustion, I didn’t notice for several minutes that he was dragging, too. His forearm propped on the locker next to mine, while he rubbed tired eyes.

“Lainey, I’m so sorry…” He trailed off, shaking his head. My breath caught. So sorry, what? So sorry but I’m exhausted and can’t hang out tonight? So sorry, but I’ll need to chug an energy drink before I ravish you? Honestly, I couldn’t decide which option I wanted more. “But I’m about to manipulate you.”

“Ma…What?”

He had the grace to look remorseful. “I’m about to manipulate you. Hard.”

Before I could ask him what, specifically, he meant by this (Physically? I’d let him manipulate me physically. I just needed that Red Bull first), a group of residents walked into the lockers. They made small talk, a few of them commenting on the surgery today. Sam accepted their praise and maneuvered us out the door at the same time.

The halls were empty. We had the elevator to ourselves, giving me ample space to corner him as the doors closed behind us. “I don’t think it counts as manipulation if you give me forewarning.”

He smiled. “You’re not even going to see it coming.”

“You’re literally telling me it’s—what do you want me to do with this?”

His head tipped back against the wall when I took the phone he’d thrust into my face. The screen was open to a food delivery app. My favorite Mexican place was already up. “Add your order.”

“My order?”

“For dinner. Or whatever you call it when it’s after nine p.m. and you’re eating your second meal of the day.” One eye cracked open. “If we order now, it’ll be at my place a little after we get there.”

I added my favorite burrito bowl—extra cheese, jalapenos, pico on the side. I glanced at him again as we walked into the empty parking garage, then added a small queso dip, too. He was a doctor. Surely he could afford some queso? Or, better yet, I’d just sneak my card info in here and I’d pay for dinner. He’d gotten breakfast the last time we were together. It was only fair.

But when I got to the checkout page, I found he’d not only added a large queso but also a large guacamole and churros. Well, dang.

He plucked the phone away before I’d had the chance to add my credit card number. “You ready?”

“Ah, I think I accidentally added another queso…” I watched him click the order button and preemptively leave a massive tip for the driver. My mouth snapped shut.

He stopped when we got to my car, one of the only vehicles parked on this level at this time of night. His was parked a few spots down from mine, which made me strangely happy. While we’d been inside together all day, our cars had been friends. Cute.

“I know I don’t usually drink caffeine, but I might need some coffee when we get there.” A yawn cracked my jaw.

“Coffee would be counterproductive for what I have in mind.”

I frowned, opening my car door and slinging my bags inside without looking where they landed. “We don’t need…a lot of energy for what you have planned?”

“Nope.” He crowded me into my car, a little. It made me think of him kneeling at my feet in the R 3 parking lot, except this time he towered above my head. It sent a thrill straight through me. A good, tingly kind of thrill that made me second-guess the need for coffee. “Here’s my plan: Go home. Shower—separately,” he qualified, correctly reading the alarm on my face. I was in no state for shower gymnastics.

His big hands skimmed down my arm. You know, the ones I’d personally witnessed save someone’s life today? Those hands. “Clean clothes. Dinner. Maybe in bed? Then sleep.”

I gulped in a breath, then another, eyes darting around the empty parking garage. “ That’s what you want to do in bed tonight? Eat cheese dip and sleep?” Hallelujah and praise the Lord. The plan had taken a sharp left from where I thought he’d been going, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

“We can re-evaluate after a nap.” He looked me up and down. I probably looked completely wrecked. No makeup, hair frizzing to the high heavens and in shapeless scrubs. He still seemed pretty interested. Another point in his favor.

“You ordered my favorite dinner, and now you’re going to take me to your house to feed me and nap?”

“That’s the plan, yes.”

“You are so getting laid later,” I whispered.

He smiled in the dim, flickering lights of the parking garage. When he leaned forward to press a kiss onto my cheekbone, he whispered, “Never saw it coming.”