MATT

I feel exhaustion deep in my bones. I could fall asleep in an instant and stay asleep for a week. I’ve experienced difficult surgeries, but none of them have come close to June’s. I want a celebratory milkshake and a celebratory nap. I’m scrubbing out by myself, collecting my thoughts and trying to convince my body it can calm down. I force another deep breath. The fight is over. June is getting wheeled to a recovery room and in a few minutes, I’ll go to the waiting area and have the privilege of letting her parents know their daughter’s surgery was a success. I’ll skip over the parts where my heart was pounding and serious doubt crept in, when I nicked her artery and clamped my fingers on her vessel to curb blood loss, when I waited with baited breath as we took the final x-ray and measured the curvature of her spine.

Her spine is as it should be, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she’ll regain full function of her lower extremities once the inflammation subsides. The human body is a finicky bitch.

We just have to hope for the best.

I finish rinsing the suds off my hands and reach for a towel. Bailey’s still inside the OR, helping clean up. I know she’s just as tired as I am. The last few days haven’t been any easier for her, and yet she’s in there laughing with one of the nurses, doing her part to turn the room over for the cases that will come after the holidays. She doesn’t have to stay in there. I told her to scrub out and go home, but she insisted on helping. It’s been three days since she slept with me on that couch and ever since then, she’s been in the trenches right alongside me, doing everything from prepping the OR to checking in on June’s parents.

On top of that, I know she’s been going home to take care of Josie. She mentioned that she went to the grocery store after work yesterday, which means she took the bus from here, to the store, and then home, and probably didn’t get there until after nine. When I asked her why, she shrugged and explained, “Josie requested spaghetti with meatballs. It’s her favorite.” Simple as that. As if anyone would do what she does on a daily basis.

This morning, she was in the office extra early, coffee in hand, hopeful spark in her eyes. She was excited for this case. She rocked back and forth on her heels in my doorway, anxious to be put to work, and in that moment I realized she loves this world as much as I do.

She was vital in this case. In fact, she’s the only reason I made it through today.

I watch as she waves bye to the nurses and techs and pushes past the swinging door to join me. Her raised brows let me know she’s surprised. I should be finished by now, but I was taking my time, thinking.

“How do you feel?” I ask hesitantly, throwing my towel in the hamper by the door.

Her short laugh is mixed with a heavy sigh. It says it all.

“This might have been the craziest day of my life. I could collapse on this spot and never get back up.”

I chuckle and lean back against the doorjamb, fighting back an audible sigh. It’s no bed, but it’s pretty nice. “It’s definitely one I won’t forget.”

She turns and presses her cheek against her shoulder so she can look back at me. Her mouth is curved into a thoughtful smile, but I can only see the very tip of it. “I can’t believe you pulled it off.”

I return her smile, fighting the urge to step closer. “It wasn’t all me.”

She laughs and shakes her head, turning back to wash her hands.

Anything outside of food and sleep shouldn’t be on my mind, but I still want her. I always want her.

“Matt, you’re amazing. What you do for people…it’s—” She shakes her head and stares down at her hands. “I’m just happy to even be in the same room with you. I’m really glad I took this job.”

My heart swells and I have the sudden urge to tell her about the grant and everything that could happen if they award it to me, but there’s not enough time. I need to go talk to June’s parents. They’ve waited all day to hear about their daughter and I won’t keep them waiting any longer.

I tell Bailey that then nod to the door. “Come with me?”

She’s taken aback by the suggestion. “Seriously? OKAY! I’ve never done that before.”

I notice I have a few missed calls from my mom waiting for me when I finally get home. She asks me about Christmas and demands I let her know my plans. I’ve completely forgotten we’re only a few days away from the holiday. Red and green decorations crowd every available space at the hospital. The doctors’ lounge is filled with tins of gingerbread cookies, bags of fudge, and cartons of fruitcake my colleagues insist they have to get out of their houses while patting their growing midsections.

My mom has been pestering me about whether or not I’ll be at Christmas dinner for weeks now. I haven’t decided. I could use the time to catch up on work. It sounds infinitely more tempting than enduring a meal in which my mom asks me if I’m seeing anyone and then follows up her line of questioning with not-so-subtle hints about how my ex-wife has moved on and is due to deliver her first child any day now.

I wonder how Bailey will spend the holiday. Her house was already decorated weeks ago, so clearly, she celebrates. Maybe she has a big family with lots of cousins, but somehow, I doubt it. From the little I’ve heard, it seems like it might just be her and Josie.

Even with the day I’ve had, I have a hard time getting to sleep that night. I thought I’d hit my mattress and instantly be dead to the world, but I’m staring up at the ceiling, one hand on my chest, the other behind my head, still thinking about Bailey.

I can’t remember the last time I had feelings for someone like this. It’s like I’m back in high school, like Bailey is the unattainable girl next door and I’m the nerd who can’t get her to agree to a date. I should just accept defeat.

Apparently, she hears my thoughts all the way at her house because my phone lights up on my nightstand and it’s her.

I answer on the second ring, a smile on my face and in my voice.

“Bailey.”

“Hey,” she says, sounding uneasy. “I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you had an update about June?”

“She was recovering well before I left. I’ll head back over first thing in the morning.”

“Oh,” she says with an interested lilt to her voice. “That’s awesome. Any signs of movement in her legs?”

“Not yet.”

There’s a break in conversation, the transition between the reason she called and the reason we’re both still lingering on the phone.

“Y’know, today was the last surgery we have before the holiday break,” she offers, and just like that, she’s saying, I don’t want to hang up just yet. Talk to me. “Ten days with no surgeries—how will you occupy yourself?”

I hum. “I’ll still be up at the hospital most of the time.”

She laughs. “Seriously? You need a break more than anyone. I sort of assumed you’d be taking a beach vacation or something.”

I smile ruefully. “I’m not really the beach vacation kind of guy. I hate sand.”

She finds that incredibly funny. “Actually, that doesn’t surprise me in the least. Now that you mention it, I can’t really imagine you taking any sort of vacation—ever.”

“I have,” I protest. “Just not in the last decade.”

“Well, you’ll at least make it to the Christmas party tomorrow night, won’t you?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.”

I don’t usually go. Forced small talk with my colleagues and their spouses isn’t really my thing.

“Well, you should. I have a present for you,” she says, her voice taking on a slightly seductive edge, though it could just be wishful thinking on my part.

“Can’t you just bring it to the hospital?”

“Maybe I’m trying to bribe you into showing up to the party,” she quips.

Suddenly, I’ve had enough of this dancing around one another, this will-we, won’t-we bullshit game Bailey insists we play.

“What does it matter if I’m there or not?” I push, desperate for honesty.

“It won’t be the same without you.”

I tug my hand through my hair and resist a groan. It feels like she’s being a tease, pushing me away at the same time she’s reeling me in, but Bailey isn’t like that. She’s genuinely being nice, inviting me to the party because she wants me there. Simple as that.

“I’ll think about it,” I promise, swallowing my anger. “Are you bringing a date?”

“No,” she answers quickly. “Wait, are you?”

I laugh and decide on a whim that I’m tired of pretending. She asked the question, she’s going to get the truth. “No, I’m not bringing a date. The only woman I want to ask had me sign a Word doc instructing me to stay away from her.”

I know I should keep pretending I don’t want her, that arm’s length is my preferred proximity, but I can’t. Every day I’m forced to work alongside her and every day she digs a little more under my skin, carving into me so deep I couldn’t get rid of her if I tried.

“Are you referring to our legally binding contract?” she teases.

I don’t laugh. In fact, I nearly growl. “I’m done, Bailey. I’m not abiding by that stupid list of demands anymore. Do you hear that? It’s the sound of me tearing that ‘contract’ in two.”

She stays silent, no doubt contemplating the weight of my words.

I smirk as I continue, “I’ll come to that party tomorrow night. In fact, I’m looking forward to it now. Don’t forget my gift.”