Chapter 3

Another long shift, another day of actively avoiding seeing my ex. I was doing really well until I needed a consult on one of my pediatric patients and I let my chatty mouth keep me in the room too long.

"Okay, I'll just get going and let Dr. McCall answer anything else. Feel better, Simone," I say, waving to the eight-year-old with a broken arm. Broken bones are a common occurrence for kids, especially those that like to live on the edge a little and give their parents minor heart attacks daily.

As I'm walking out of the room, I walk right into Damien, one of my colleagues and quite frankly, the only person who helps keep me sane most days. This morning, I told him Drew and I broke up simply so he'd help me in avoiding having to be around him much today. I'll be fine as the days go on, but one day apart wasn't enough and I'm already annoyed at his crooked eyebrows and mediocre smile.

"Were you able to avoid the snake today?" Damien asks as we walk together down the hall. Both of our shifts are coming to an end and I couldn't be more thankful for a Monday that flew by like today.

"Mostly. Of course, he had to slither in for the last patient of the day," I say.

"You know you're too good for him, right? Break up or not, I've always thought that. He just has really great hair, that's it. And that's what got you hooked to begin with, wasn't it? The dark locks of glory?"

I laugh at Damien's comment, feeling grateful I have him around to lighten the mood.

"The hair. Definitely." I slowly nod, and he leans down, giving me a hug before he leaves. Even after a twelve-hour shift he still smells utterly incredible. His boyfriend works with a fragrance company so I'm not completely shocked, but whatever he has Damien wearing is definitely long lasting. Can withstand a twelve-hour hospital shift in the Emergency Room would be great for marketing.

My phone dings with a text from Abby as soon as I walk in my apartment. Her and I haven't been able to spend as much time together as we'd like just due to your basic adulting, aside from Sundays at the football stadium or someone's house for an away game.

Abby

I'm starting to think I'll never see two pink lines. Another negative

I sigh at the text message, not even knowing what to say anymore. My heart hurts for her and Ford. I wish I had the words to say that would comfort her or some kind of advice to be able to give that might help make her situation easier, but there isn't anything I can do to ease the pain she feels.

I'm sorry this has been so tough. I love you

I've learned in the last year as Abby's shared more on the ins and outs of what she and Ford are going through that she doesn't want my two cents. She doesn't want someone to sit here and tell her not to stress over it. She doesn't want to hear that everything happens for a reason, or it'll happen when it's supposed to happen. She's tired of being told to "just have a lot of sex" or the "when it's meant to be, it'll be" cliché. She doesn't need to hear that. My job is to love her and support her, no matter what. All she needs to know is that I'm here, for the good and the bad and the uncertain.

Tossing my purse on the bar stool, I turn the light in the kitchen on. I barely had time to eat today and a granola bar with a string cheese is definitely not substantial enough to last me much longer.

Although, reality sets in when I realize that I've been neglecting my apartment for the last few days and my refrigerator reminds me that it's bare when it makes a sad, creaking noise as I open it. I could be upset by this or I could look at it as an opportunity to get tacos for dinner from the food truck outside my building.

I pass it nearly every day and there's always the sweetest older man sitting at one of the picnic tables right beside it. I have no idea if he works at the truck, owns it, or if he's just a frequent visitor, but he smiles every single day, rain or shine.

Instead of waiting for the elevator, I opt for the stairs on the way down. Stairwells usually freak me out, and this one is no different. It always feels like the walls around me are closing in and like some crazy horror movie, the door I'm trying to exit will be locked and then when I go back up to the door I came from, that one will mysteriously be locked too. And then I'm trapped in a stairwell, left to fight for my life. It's incredibly far-fetched, I realize that. My mind just likes to make up bizarre scenarios that I'll most likely never be in, but somehow need to be prepared for.

"Can I please have two of the Carne Asada tacos and a side of chips and salsa?" I hand the woman my debit card and glance to my left, seeing the same old man I've noticed every day before.

She hands me back my card and receipt and I step aside to wait for my order. I'm tempted to strike up a conversation with him, but by the time I convince myself to do it the woman calls my name and my hunger beats any other desire at the moment, causing me to offer him only a smile before taking my food inside.

Again, I opt for the stairs on the way up and immediately regret the decision. I'm winded after two flights and wishing I would've been patient enough to wait for the elevator. When I reach my floor, there's an immediate sigh of relief and I make my way into my apartment and to the living room where I plan to spend the remainder of the evening before I crash out for the night, just to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.

"If you need anything else, just hit that button and I'll pop back in." I smile as I leave the patient's room.

I don't typically work the night shift, but I'm helping out this evening for another nurse who needed a swap. While the change in pace is nice, I think I'm built for the hustle and bustle of day shift. It's probably why I liked being a bartender for so many years. The constant conversation, always staying busy and occupied. Plus, I usually love being around other people.

"Summer, someone is in the lobby asking for you," another nurse says with a tiny hint of red on her face. "It's for his daughter, but he's um… very handsome." Her eyebrows wiggle, but mine crease in worry. The only handsome man I know with a daughter who would ask for me is Chase.

I rush through the hallway, glad that it's not busy at midnight so that I can get to the lobby quickly. The fluorescent lights feel much brighter at night and I swipe my badge at the double doors seeing Chase through the window cut out with his back toward me holding CeCe in his arms.

When the wooden doors open, I call out his name and he turns around to face me. His brown eyes look heavy and riddled with worry. He's in a pair of black sweatpants and a Knights t-shirt. His hair covered by a baseball hat and a hard-set jaw directed right at me.

"What happened?" I ask, instinctively rubbing CeCe's back and taking a look at her face. She feels warm to the touch.

The instant relief that covers his face when he sees me makes my heart flutter.

"She's had a fever for hours, I can't get it down with any of the medicine I've tried. She keeps saying her ear hurts but I can't see a goddamn thing. Abby mentioned the other day she said her ear hurt, but she was acting fine then, no fever." He pauses. "I'm surprised you're even here, I didn't know if it was too late to text you. And then when I got here, I figured I was taking a chance asking for you." He blinks his eyes hard a couple times, squeezing them shut, almost to try and make himself appear more alert. "I wouldn't normally bring her in, but the fever…" He trails off, looking embarrassed, but I shake my head at him.

"No, no, it's fine to bring her in. Let's get her triaged and see what's going on." He follows me down the hall and into the pediatric department of the ER.

Chase lays CeCe down on one of the beds, and I take a seat next to her as he paces the room. His hand squeezes the back of his neck and his head falls back, almost in defeat, or exhaustion. Possibly both at this point.

"Hi, my girl. What's going on?"

She looks up at me and pulls at her ears. CeCe has soft brown eyes just like Chase's. Sometimes they look so golden and warm. God, she looks so much like him.

"Both of them hurt?" I ask.

She gives me a small nod as I stroke her cheek.

"Okay, we'll take a look and get you feeling better so you and Daddy can go home and back to bed, okay?"

As I stand, I see Chase is still pacing and breathing heavily around the room. It's no surprise seeing him so distraught over CeCe being here and not feeling well.

"I'm going to grab her water and we'll check her ears. It's probably an ear infection, Chase. They're really common with kids," I whisper.

"I've been giving her water all night, it's not helping." There's an edge in his voice. Frustration. But I don't take it personally.

"Okay, well, I'm going to grab her a water and get a more comfortable chair in here for you and we'll get her fever down," I say softly, realizing he hasn't looked at me the entire time I've been talking to him.

"I don't need a different chair," Chase says with clenched teeth just as I'm turning to leave the room but I ignore him. The chair is so he will sit down and relax for a few minutes so CeCe doesn't see him leaving footprints all over my ER with all of the worry pacing he's doing.

"Who is that?" Angie asks when I get back to the front desk.

I sigh at her question because there are so many ways I can answer this. The simplest and less embarrassing way is simply that I'm friends with his sister. Or, I could opt for a little more detail and say he's an old friend of mine from childhood. The third and much more complicated description would probably sound something like, he's the guy I've loved since I was a teenager and despite trying to forget about him, all I've been able to do in the last decade is find more things to love about him. I don't have the energy tonight to delve into anything specific, so option one it is.

"Oh, and you said he plays for the Knights? That's why he's so… big," Angie sighs like she has hearts in her eyes when she looks over at him and the territorial side of me wants to growl and show my teeth. I've been the President of the Chase Hunt Fan Club for years and I don't take well to others wanting my spot.

Chase "overprotective and incredibly too handsome" Hunt.

If I could remember a time I didn't have feelings for Chase, I'd lock into that moment and try to make it happen again. But I can't. Because ever since I understood the premise of having genuine, romantic feelings for someone, my sights have been set on Chase.

I met him when I was five, he was my first crush when I was ten. I first saw him as a man when I was sixteen—he was pulling his hair into a backward hat while playing beach volleyball, and that pretty much sealed the deal. I remember in the summer he would drive me and Abby around to the movies or to the beach. I remember every time he'd have a girlfriend in the passenger's seat, I'd secretly be plotting her demise. It was always one of those harmless crushes that I think everyone just assumed would go away. It was never a secret; I was always very vocal about my feelings for Chase . Mrs. Chase Hunt was written in probably every notebook I've ever owned. When he was leaving for his senior prom was the first time I put lipstick on, hoping in some delusional way that would make him look at me as something more than his little sister's best friend.

And now, he's a dad and he's in the NFL and he's grown up to be this really amazing man and the crush I think everyone—myself included—assumed would fade, only intensified. I still look at Chase like he's hung the moon, even after all these years. And as he stands in the doorway of my ER giving me a scolding look as he watches two men carry a bigger, more comfortable chair into his daughter's room, I wonder if that'll ever go away.

"Summer!" he says with chomped molars when I walk by, and I happily stop at the door. "I said I didn't need another chair."

"I think you mean thank you , and with that I'll say you're welcome ." I smile and walk past him to where CeCe is sitting up on the bed.

"Hey," I say softly, taking a seat next to her.

She smiles at me just as the night shift doctor comes into the room and introduces himself. I rarely work with him, since I'm on the day shift, but he's quick and professional, exactly what Chase needs right now. He pulls out his stethoscope and explains to CeCe and Chase that he'll just take a quick listen to her breathing. I give him space, but stay close by and continue smiling and nodding at her as her sweet brown eyes look to me for assurance. He then takes a look in her ears and I hear him make a humming sound as he does, causing Chase's head to pop up.

"She has a double ear infection, but this happens with kids, it's common. It's what's causing her fever. Antibiotics will help clear it up," he tells Chase before he swiftly leaves the room as if he were never there. I nod in the doctor's direction and stand to type information into her chart.

Chase sighs, still on his feet, probably making a stand against sitting in the more comfortable chair I arranged for him.

Before I walk out, I nod at him to follow me to the doorway.

"Listen, Chase. I get you're… you . But I'm here to help, I'm trying to help, so let me do that. Believe it or not, I'm very good at my job. Rave reviews from all the kids." I prop a hand on my hip and the smallest bit of a smile tries to creep up on his face before he quickly looks annoyed again. I get that nobody wants to spend their evening in an ER, but for what it's worth, he's making record time being in and almost out. "If you would relax for five seconds, you'd see that CeCe is okay. She's resting, in fact, and I'm going to get your discharge papers and everything settled now. Happy thoughts, Chase." I tap his forearm lightly, knowing it'll affect me far more than it annoys him.

"Are you this demanding with all of the parents who bring their kids in?" His arms cross over his chest as he stands in front of me like some kind of bouncer at a club. Although, he doesn't intimidate me.

I smirk, beginning to take a step back. "Only when they're being a pain in the ass."

CeCe sits up when I walk back into the room barely ten minutes later, poor kid still looks exhausted, but at least she's on her way to feeling better.

I wave at her when I notice that Chase is passed out in the chair I brought him. I should really take a picture to prove to him that I was right and he was wrong.

"Daddy's tired," she whispers when I sit down next to her. She stares at him for a moment before looking back at me. For a three-year-old, sometimes I think she's wise beyond her years. Her daddy is tired. But he'd never want her to know that.

"Maybe he just needed a quick nap, but I bet he's excited to get you home."

"Daddy," CeCe says seconds later.

When I look up, Chase's eyes are open and he stands immediately.

"Wow, really lucky you had that chair, right?" I tease before handing him the discharge paper. "She's going to be fine, Chase. You can take her home." I smile softly, letting my eyes linger on a very tired, but very good dad standing across from me.

"Thanks," he breathes out.