Kyle stood under the lukewarm shower, feeling bruised, battered, and absolutely defeated.

The bruising was to his pride, and the battering was more blistering than anything else. After Mrs. Hartford’s code, he’d done everything in double time, and his new shoes had rubbed the back of his heels raw.

But the feeling of being completely defeated was a pervasive, all-over thing. It ran through his blood, soaked over him in every droplet of water, and wormed its way into his mind with the hiss of steam and the memory of Wes’ words to him.

It would’ve been one thing if the man was just an arrogant asshole who liked blaming everything on nurses, but Kyle had made a mistake. He’d let Wes intimidate him, even when he said he wouldn’t, and he’d let what could have been a two second annoyance become a life-threatening situation.

Yes, Dr. Monroe had the handwriting of a five-year-old, but that was no excuse. He knew better than to act off of assumption. Had he really let Wes get into his head that much?

Considering he was still thinking about all of this a good hour after leaving the hospital, the answer was apparently yes.

He’d told Brandon he’d meet him and Katie at Rocket for a late meal around eight thirty, but that had given Kyle almost a full hour to sit and feel sorry for himself before he bothered getting into the shower.

Even now, he was wasting time. It’d be a wonder if he made it to Rocket by eight thirty. But he just couldn’t help replaying everything in his mind, like he was watching some sadistic highlight reel comprised of his biggest fuckups—and these were just the ones from the last few days.

He’d come to Hidden Creek for a change, but this feeling of being off-kilter and severely under-guarded around Wesley Monroe was not what he needed. And he definitely didn’t need to start making dumb mistakes that would compromise patient care all because he couldn’t talk to one man.

Dragging himself out of the shower, Kyle goes dressed and made his way out to the car before he could fill his mind with any other negative thoughts. He set the GPS for Rocket, made the surprisingly short drive, and locked up out of habit before heading inside.

While the massive pizza they’d had delivered just days before had come in a standard take-out pizza box, the diner itself was anything but ordinary. The whole thing was a throwback to the fifties with checkered tile floor, bright red leather upholstered booths and chairs, and lots of tacky sci-fi decorations that really hammered in the theme.

It was charming in a way Kyle hadn’t expected, and it helped to at least divert his attention for a few moments. Seeing Katie waving to him from a booth in the back also helped, and he made his way over there.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said with an apologetic smile.

“Nah, you’re not,” Brandon assured him. “We’re early. Katie’s been pulling my arm to play the claw machine, but I told her not until after she’d eaten dinner.”

Across from him, Katie gave her father one of the best puppy dog faces Kyle had ever seen. Apparently Brandon had some kind of innate resistance, because he just shook his head.

“Food first. You know the rule.”

She sighed and settled into the booth, finally acting like what Kyle had expected a ten-year-old to act like.

Now, though, was the time small talk usually happened. Rather than talk about work, Kyle pulled up the menu, putting it squarely in front of his face. Even the menus followed the vintage sci-fi motif, and again he had to smile at the owner’s dedication.

A teenaged waitress came by and Kyle went all out, ordering a patty melt and a root beer float. If he was going to sit down and eat at an old timey diner after a bad day, he was determined to stuff his face full of whatever comfort foods he wanted.

Brandon and Katie followed suit, and soon the menus were taken and there was nothing left but the obvious question. He could see it in Brandon’s eyes as his brother looked at him.

“You look like hell, Ky. Long day?”

“Yeah,” he said with a dry laugh, glancing at Katie. “Just busy. We had a John Doe come in from a car accident today. Tomorrow will be better.”

It wasn’t a lie, though it wasn’t the full truth. Tomorrow had to be better because today was the bottom of the fucking barrel.

Brandon looked skeptical, considering Kyle for a long moment. When it seemed his brother was on the verge of asking a follow-up question, Kyle took charge.

“You’re home for the summer now, right?” he asked Katie. “Any big plans?”

Katie just shrugged a little, looking across the table at him with a shy smile. “Not really. I got my reading list for fourth grade. And Dad said we could start a garden this summer. We’re going to go get the stuff for it from the Farmer’s Market this weekend.”

“Oh yeah? What are you going to grow?”

Katie rattled off a long list of flowers, fruits, vegetables, and herbs, some of which had Kyle realizing he was way hungrier than he realized. Had he eaten anything today? There’d been that granola bar he’d wolfed down in the middle of the day, but other than that…

“We’re actually going to build a shed at some point to house all the tools, and as a place to put the starters if I can get a big enough window in there that faces the sun. Either that or some heat lamps.”

His niece nodded enthusiastically, more excited about growing things than he’d been about anything else he’d ever done during summer vacation. Playing video games? Riding his bike up and down the road? Maybe the summer he’d finally gotten his learner’s permit, but even that seemed like a stretch for how bouncy Katie was.

“Maybe you can come over and help us sometime?” she asked, turning the puppy dog eyes on him.

“Kyle works long hours, sweetie, and I’m sure he’ll want to spend his days off relaxing.”

Kyle wasn’t sure what was worse: His brother’s assumption or Katie’s immediate, crestfallen expression. But this was the precedent he’d set, wasn’t it? And aside from forgetting about Rebecca and Mike, this was what he’d come to Hidden Creek to fix.

“I’ll set some time aside for it. Just give me a week’s notice, okay? So I can clear it with my boss.”

Plans were made, and Katie was over the moon, practically vibrating out of her seat with excitement. Or maybe that was the soda. Their food came not too long after, and the three of them ate with limited chatter. Perfectly fine by Kyle, since he was afraid of what he’d say if given free rein. And the patty melt he’d bought was really, really good. The beef was fresh, the cheese was tangy and melty, and the bread was toasted just the way he liked it. The whole meal—onion rings and root beer float included—was probably a million calories, but he’d had a shit day, and if he couldn’t spoil himself at a themed diner, where could he spoil himself?

Once Katie had finished her chicken fingers and french fries, most of her attention returned to the claw machine. Kyle swung a glance over his shoulder to get a look at this apparently prized piece of arcade nostalgia and found his eyes widening. Instead of the plastic and Plexiglas setups he was used to, this one seemed to be made of brass and actual, breakable glass. There was a bright patina on it, and he honestly wasn’t sure if it was from age or if the owner of the diner had distressed it by hand.

The thing was impressive, either way, and he was tempted to join his niece once she got a handful of quarters out of her dad. He didn’t have much interest in the stuffed animals—except for what looked like a rainbow-colored llama wedged in the corner—but he was itching to know how the thing worked. It looked like something from the Midway.

But as soon as Katie was off, Brandon took the opportunity to corner him. “So what’s really going on? You look like you haven’t slept in a week, Kyle.”

A sarcastic remark rose to the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t think pointing out the fact that Brandon probably didn’t know him well enough to know when he looked tired seemed like really bad form, considering he’d been the one to leave. Letting out a heavy sigh, Kyle just decided to go with the truth. What was the worst that could happen?

“Work’s been a bitch,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “We had a woman today, very sweet, very funny. She was being treated for COPD, which should’ve just been an in and out thing. A little monitoring just to be safe, but there was no reason she shouldn’t have gone home before noon.”

“What happened?” Brandon asked, his attention drifting briefly to Katie before he returned to Kyle.

“She ended up coding.”

“Fuck.” The horrified expression on Brandon’s face told him just how often that happened at a small-town hospital. Great. This situation just kept getting better and better. “Is she…?”

“We saved her,” Kyle said, his expression tight. “And when I left she was back to her old self. Cracking jokes, flirting with everyone on staff, the usual.”

A fond smile touched his lips at that. He’d done his best to stay out of the way. It was obvious Wes didn’t want him interfering, and honestly, Kyle didn’t trust himself not to fuck something up. Nothing had ever rattled his confidence so bad. But he’d heard her talking when he passed by, and gossip about just who she’d hit on—and what she said to them—spread through the small hospital quickly, so he’d at least had that to hold on to.

“Jesus. You could’ve led with that. Who was it? Wait, no. Don’t tell me. It has to be Mrs. Hartford.” Brandon laughed. “Nobody else would try to pick up a date after almost dying.”

“You know I can’t tell you that,” he said with a smile. “And sorry. It just… it never should’ve happened, is what I’m getting at. But wires got crossed and now we’re at each other’s throats and—”

“We?” Brandon’s brows lifted.

“This doctor. Wes Monroe.”

Even saying the man’s name filled him with a host of mixed feelings, not all of them bad. But they were definitely all… intense.

“Ah, yeah. That’ll do it. I should’ve warned you about him. Apparently none of the nurses can stand him.” His brother shrugged and picked up his iced tea, gnawing lightly on the straw with the corner of his mouth. “He was good with Katie when I brought her in for vaccines.”

“His bedside manner is something that should be studied by medical schools around the country,” Kyle admitted, “but he’s just a dick to everyone else. But… it wasn’t just him being an arrogant ass this time, Bran. I really fucked up.”

Brandon stopped torturing the poor straw, one dark brow arching as he waited for Kyle to explain. Letting out a heavy breath—and shooting a wistful glance to what remained of his root beer float—Kyle started from the beginning.

“You remember the night we were at Bottom’s Up, how there was a gap of time between you going home to check on Katie and you coming to pick me up?” Brandon just nodded. “A guy came over to me right after you left. He started flirting with me, talking really suggestively, and change sounded good at the time, so… I went home with him.”

Kyle’s brother leaned back against the booth’s bench like he’d been knocked back by a gust of air. “Wait. You went home with a guy?”

“Yeah, I know. Hooking up with strangers isn’t usually my thing, but again. Changes. Plus… I don’t know. There was something about him that just drew me in, and…” Kyle took in his brother’s still-present look of surprise and realized why this seemed like such a big deal. “And that’s not the surprising part of this story.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Brandon said hurriedly, putting his hands up in defense. “I think it’s great. I had no idea you were bi, that’s all.”

“Neither did I. And I mean, I’m not sure if I am or not,” he admitted. “I just… know I was attracted to him.”

It wasn’t like being attracted to men was something he’d absolutely run from, he’d just never really felt it before. Something about Wes hit him hard, and he’d found himself infatuated like a hormone-riddled teenager within minutes of meeting the man. Maybe he should have analyzed it; agonized over the newfound aspect of his sexuality that he hadn’t become acquainted with until he was nearing thirty. But… why?

He was attracted to men. So what? As far as Kyle was concerned, the only thing that changed was his options for a partner, either casually or as something long-term. He was still the same person. He still wanted the same things out of his life and relationships. And if anyone decided to treat him differently because he’d suddenly realized he was bi… well, that was their problem, not Kyle’s.

Right now, the identity of the man he’d gone home with was a much more pressing matter. He’d gotten sidetracked, and he quickly tried to tie in this whole story. “It was Wes. The man I went home with was Dr. Monroe.”

Brandon let out a low whistle, his brows lifting as though he were impressed by the extraordinary feat of bad luck. “That’s some General Hospital level scandal right there. So you banged the doctor you’re working with, and now things are weird?”

“What?” Kyle asked, heat rising in his cheeks. “I didn’t… we didn’t…” He rolled his eyes at himself. He was a grown ass man. No reason to tiptoe around it. “I wasn’t ready to take that step, so we didn’t. Wes was kind and considerate and just a completely different person from who he turned out to be at work. So now there’s that weirdness between us and I’m just not sure how to approach him, Bran.”

He wasn’t going to tell his brother that it was hard to have work conversations with a man who’d had his hand on Kyle’s dick. That seemed a bit too much sharing for their current sibling bond. It wasn’t even the crux of the issue, either.

“It’s like he’s two completely different people. The guy I met—the guy who takes such good care of his patients—and this asshole who wouldn’t know humility if it hit him in the face.”

Brandon snorted, though his expression was guarded, even wary, as he looked at Kyle. “You’re not going to like my advice.”

“At this point, I’ll take anything. Even if you’re going to tell me to just go home with him again and get it out of my system.” Whoa. Where had that come from? More importantly, had Brandon noticed?

The look he got from across the table—the slight twitch of his brother’s lips—definitely confirmed that he had, even before he said the words. “Is that on the table?”

“Pff. No,” Kyle sputtered, lacing his fingers through his messy hair. “Shut up. What was your idea?”

Brandon laughed, a sound that helped ease Kyle’s sudden bout of nerves. This was nice. This was exactly what he’d come to Hidden Creek to get back—his relationship with his brother. And if they had to bond over Kyle’s blunders, then that was one he was willing to take for the team.

“I think you need to take the high road here. You both made mistakes, but I’m not sure having some kind of a stand-off over who was more wrong is going to help anything,” Brandon said.

Kyle’s eyes fell closed, a sigh slipping past his lips. When he opened his eyes again, his attention fell on Katie. She’d just sunk another quarter into the machine and was trying to line up the drop.

“So you think I should apologize,” he said softly. “Try to be the bigger man.”

“If he were anyone else, wouldn’t you do the same thing?” Brandon had a point there. He’d let his ideas about who Wes was—both what he’d seen the night before he started working at the hospital, and what he’d learned from the other nurses—color his perception of the man.

Yes, he was an ass. But he was also the hospital’s biggest advocate for patient care. That much was obvious to Kyle from day one, and in that goal, the two of them were aligned. The apology and the reasoning behind it practically wrote itself.

“Yeah. You’re right,” Kyle said, though not as grudgingly as he’d expected. “We need a clean slate.”

If Wes insisted on putting him down—or pinning him with those intense stares—afterward, then at least he could say he’d tried. But for now Kyle was going to do his job, put his patients first, and try not to think about Dr. Wesley Monroe more than was absolutely necessary.