Chapter 10

 

 

 

Finn

Today is an absolute anomaly. I have no explanation for it either, other than being a fucking awesome doctor and efficient as hell. Today represents the first day I actually leave work on time since I became an attending. At exactly nine p.m., the doors of the ED close behind me and I’m stepping out into the crisp air.

The trees lining the streets are covered with a medley of colors. Golds and cranberry reds and burnt oranges. Even in the dark of night, with only the light from the street lamps and the glow of the storefronts to illuminate them, they’re beautiful. Fall in New York is one of my favorite times of year, even if it does lead into the holiday season.

I’m not slated to meet up with Mike for another hour, and though I could text him and ask him to meet me sooner, I won’t. I’m actually looking forward to the quiet drink after the long day before he shows up. Since starting in the hospital, this bar has quickly become one of my favorites. It’s low-key with good drinks, comfortable seating and pretty women who are occasionally eager for my particular brand of one-night stand, without being a hookup bar.

That said, I haven’t gone home with a woman since my second week here and I refuse to think too deeply on the reason behind that. Maybe tonight is the night for that. The night to bring myself a little pleasure for once.

Pulling open the heavy glass door, I’m instantly assaulted with the warmth and din which only a neighborhood bar can provide. My eyes flitter around, taking in the selection of eligible women, as well as trying to find a good place to park myself so I can continue my observations. But then something stops me in my tracks.

Not something. Someone.

Gia. Of course, it’s Gia.

I’ve successfully avoided her since I stitched up her elbow. That was what? Seventeen days ago. As tempted as I am to turn around and walk out, I can’t help but watch her. She’s leaning against the bar, her head resting heavily against her hand with some lime-colored drink in front of her. The finger of her free hand glides up and down in the condensation. A frown mars her beautiful, full red lips. But the feature that stands out to me the most? Her eyes are partially closed and even from my vantage point, half the bar away, I can tell they’re glassy.

She’s drunk. And that bothers the fuck out of me.

Is she asking to be taken advantage of? Doesn’t she know how vulnerable she is right now?

My body ignites with the ferocity and determination of a brush fire. Red-hot heat consumes me. Has me marching across the smallish bar until I’m standing next to her. She must hear me or sense my presence, because Gia’s head spins around like something out of The Exorcist, her eyes wide before a slow lazy smile spreads across her beautiful face, and her eyes go back to half-mast. She looks sexy as hell and I’d be turned on if I wasn’t so pissed off.

“Oh Finn,” she slurs. “Have you come to rescue me from myself again?” Her petite body sways on her stool, before she slurps down more of her cocktail through her straw.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “None of your business, Doctor. I am none of your business.”

A deep growl climbs its way out of the back of my throat. No one drives me crazy like this woman.

I should turn around and leave. She’s right. She’s none of my business. But even as I think that, I know I’m not going anywhere. I may not do a lot of things right where Gia Bianchi is concerned, but leaving her in this state would be reprehensible. “Gia?” I ask in a softer tone, because clearly barking directives aren't getting me anywhere with her. “How drunk are you?”

“Scale of one to ten?” she asks and I nod. “Probably somewhere close to a seven or eight. But this is my last one.” She points to her glass, nearly knocking it over when her hand misses its target. “I made Ophelia promise me. Though if we’re making comparisons here, Ophelia is way better than the chaste vessel of morality she’s named after. I mean, she sells alcohol, right? And she’s freaking awesome. I never liked Ophelia in Hamlet.”

I have no idea what she just said. It’s like she’s speaking in goddamn riddles. “Who’s Ophelia?”

“I’m Ophelia,” the pretty bartender with colorful ink adorning her arms, says. I’ve seen her working here several times over. I just never knew her name. “And she’s right. She’s done. She’s hit her four-drink max.”
      “Great,” I snap. “And you didn’t think four drinks was three too many?”

Gia giggles, like what I just said was the funniest thing ever. She giggles so hard, she practically falls off her damn chair. “Finn, stop being my dad. He’s dead, remember? You were there for that. He’s dead. Just like my patient.” And then she breaks down into tears.

What the hell is going on here?

I eye the bartender expectantly. She gives me a conciliatory half grin, pointing to the stool next to Gia, for me to sit. I do sit, but not because she silently asked me to. I do it because when Gia cries, my goddamn lifeless heart breaks. Gia wipes away at her eyes with a deep heavy sigh, a small ring of black mascara stubbornly clings to the top of her lower lid.

“She lost a patient tonight,” Ophelia supplies, with more sympathy than I would have expected. “I was letting her drink while keeping an eye on her. She said four drinks, so that’s what I served her, but the last two were on the weaker side.”

“Hey,” Gia snaps indignantly.

Ophelia shrugs unapologetically. “You’re a lightweight, honeypie,” she says with a hint of softness as her eyes linger on a still-sniffling Gia. “I was going to walk her home when my shift ends in an hour. But now you’re here,” she finishes with a big smile.

“See,” Gia points to Ophelia while looking at me, “I told you she was awesome. It’s a shame I’m not a lesbian,” Gia says with so much sincerity that a laugh sputters out of me. “No, I’m being serious. Ophelia here is not only a beautiful bisexual, but she’s smart and funny and I like her. She doesn’t fuck with my head,” she turns to me, takes me in for a moment, her expression growing accusatory as she ends with, “the way you do.”

I can’t for the life of me think of something to say back to that.

I do fuck with her head. It’s not intentional. It’s not something I methodically plot out or particularly get off on. It’s just my reaction to her. It’s the fact that I react to her in the first place, that has me fucking with her head.

“Yet here you are again,” she continues on, unaware of my silent contemplation. “Right when I need someone, you’re there. It’s aggravating in so many ways.” She pivots back to face Ophelia who seems to be enjoying the hell out of the verbal lashing Gia is giving me. “He always finds me at just the right moment.” Every ounce of sarcasm drips away, leaving her bare and raw. “My perpetual hero. He saved my life, you know? Pulled me out of the way of an oncoming car. I would have gone splat.” She slams her palm against the wood of the bar with a loud smack.

“Hero, indeed,” Ophelia grins. “How about a beer then, hero?”

I can only nod. Gia has a way of cutting me to the quick. It’s impossible not to feel conflicted where she’s concerned. On the one hand, she just said I fuck with her mind. That sucks. I’m not typically that guy. I’m usually very upfront with my endeavors. But Gia is not one of my endeavors.

On the other, she called me her hero. Not just rescuer, but hero. And yeah, I realize those two terms are closely related. Nearly the same thing. But for some inexplicable reason, they feel different.

Terrifying and exhilarating. That’s how this feels.

Gia turns to me with watery, bloodshot eyes. “My patient died today, Finn.” There is so much heartbreak in her voice. The tears she just shed were not her first. This is eating her up.

I can’t stand her hurting.

Without conscious thought, I reach out and cup her face. She sighs, tilting her head and leaning further into my touch, yet she doesn’t know what to make of the gesture. More mind fuck, I realize.

She’s so beautiful. So sweet and pure and innocent. She’s also strong, forthright and tough as nails. I like all of this about her. It keeps me on my game. Keeps me up at night thinking about her. But it’s this incredible childlike vulnerability she emanates which leads me to want to wrap her up and keep her safely tucked away from anything that could potentially consider hurting her.

I don’t think. I don’t second guess. I just act.

I text Mike and tell him we’ll meet up another night. Then I slide my phone back into the pocket of my scrubs, take a sip of my newly delivered Stella and turn back to her when I think I’ve got some modicum of control over my emotions. “Tell me about your patient.”

She blinks at me, her eyes welling up once again with those big tears she cries. “It’s so awful.” A tear cascades down her cheek and I reach out to swipe it away. “I think she threw a clot or an aneurism burst. But she died, Finn. She died. And her baby…” she trails off, shaking her head, unable to finish her thought as she swallows down audibly.

“I’m sorry about your patient,” I say, taking her into my arms as she cries a little harder. My lips press into the top of her head as I hold her close to me. “It sucks. I know. But it wasn’t your fault, Gia. And if this is the first patient you’ve lost in the year plus you’ve been practicing, then you’re doing something right. I’ve seen you in action, sweetheart. You’re incredible at your job. Sometimes no matter how perfect we are, shit goes wrong anyway.”

“Thank you,” she mumbles against me. Squeezes me back a little to let me know she means it. “I don’t want to cry anymore. I was drinking so I would stop.” She sniffles, pulling back and wiping her fingertips under her eyes, removing any remaining moisture. “Holy cheeseballs, I hate this crap.” She blows out a hot puff of air and then gives me a forced smile. “So,” she laughs lightly. “What brings you into my new favorite bar?”

“I was meeting a friend.”

“And now?”

I shrug. “Now I’m with you.”

“Because you’re protective over me.” It’s not a question, but I find myself nodding all the same. I am protective over her. She really has no idea the lengths I would go to. “I wish I didn’t like you, Finn,” she laughs. “You’re sort of an asshole. A hot asshole, but still.”

“I knew you thought I was hot.”

She rolls her eyes at me, but she can’t stop her broadening smile. Those tears drying up with her amusement, which was my intent. “Seriously? That’s what you took from everything I just said?” Gia sways slightly, reminding me just how shitfaced she actually is.

No. Actually all I can think about is the fact she just admitted she likes me. It’s like I’m fifteen all over again. It’s that good. “Do you know what I do when I lose a patient?”

“What? Tell me, Finn. I’m all ears. Because this alcohol stuff isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. All it seems to do is make me have to pee. It also makes my head spin and my thoughts a little fuzzy. My inhibitions are probably out the window right now. But it hasn’t taken away the ache.”

God, what would I give to be able to take away that ache for her?

“I usually run, but that’s not going to help us now.”

“Nope. Try again.” She sinks against the side of the bar, her eyes growing soft and heavy. Then she yawns and I’m suddenly relieved. I was thinking about places I could take her. Things I could do with her to lift her spirits.

That’s the problem with Gia. She has me scheming.

“I was going to say Skee-Ball, but I think you’re too tired for the arcade.” That’s not really what I do when I lose a patient. I was serious about the running. But it just so happens the last time someone died unexpectedly, a group of people went to an arcade and I tagged along. It did help so why not say it? And because I know it will amuse her. It will take her mind off of her patient and that’s all I can ask for.

“Skee-Ball,” she smiles so big, showcasing all of her white teeth. “You play Skee-Ball when you lose a patient?”

I shift until I’m sitting closer to her. Until our knees are touching. Until she looks down and stares at them. Then I take her hand and lace our fingers together. She looks at those too and I know what I’m doing. I know this is more of my mind fuck. But I don’t know how to stop.

That’s another problem with Gia. I don’t know how to stop.

“Skee-Ball is the ultimate tension releaser,” I tell her as I lean in just enough to catch a hint of her perfume which I like so much. “Think about it. You get to toss a decently weighted ball for points and then you get tickets that earn you prizes. It’s genius.”

“Skee-Ball,” she says, testing the word on her tongue. “I’m in, let’s go.”

I shake my head. “Not tonight. It’s late and you’re drunk and tired.” She frowns and it’s an adorable response. “Did you know there is this game which has a disclaimer, warning against increased seizure risk.”

She laughs, the clouds parting as her eyes brighten. “Which game?”

“Space Invaders. And if you ever stop to watch the game, you’ll understand why. That’s another reason not to go to the arcade tonight. I believe alcohol lowers seizure threshold.”

She rolls her eyes at me again. “I believe it does, Doctor. Fine. Not tonight. But another night. Honestly, I think I should go home. The room is starting to spin a little.”

“Then let me walk you.”

Her eyes bore into mine and then she glances down at our hands which are still linked. “Okay,” she whispers. “You can walk me home.”