CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Sarah
“Lovely to see you again, Miss Moodypants.”
I don’t bother turning to Clint as I finish inputting notes on a patient’s chart. My only acknowledgment is when I raise my left hand to discreetly scratch at my hairline.
With my middle finger.
Clint laughs and slides in closer, lowering his voice. “Did I mention I checked in on a certain handsome man we both know and removed his stitches? Which means”—he nudges me slyly—“that I had to get all up in his business—”
My head whips around; my eyes narrowed in irritation. “We both know his stitches were on his forehead, so there’s no need for you to get up in any type of his business.”
His lips curve upward, and he shrugs. “Maybe all that time spent pretending to be his friend’s gay lover a while back changed the game for him. Maybe”—his eyes light up, widening dramatically—“he realized he wasn’t in love with you all this time but, in fact, me.” Clint places his palms on his chest with a whimsical sigh. “How sweet would that be?”
I glare at him, and my words are nearly a low snarl. “So sweet.”
“You know what’s wrong with you?”
“No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
He doesn’t bother to acknowledge my sarcastic response. “You need an inspirational story to help you get your head on straight.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Yep. And I’m gonna need you to listen carefully for a moment.” He pauses for a beat. “There was a young woman from a steel town who had a dream. That dream was to dance. But the odds were against her.”
My face scrunches in disbelief. He cannot be referring to what I think…
“That young woman had to believe in herself, give herself over to the risks, and give it her all. And finally, when she did, when she got the chance, do you know what happened?”
“She became a maniac?” I deadpan because this sounds an awful lot like the premise of the movie Flashdance. “On the floor?”
“Well, yes. But more than that.” He leans in close, lowering his voice. “She found love.”
Our gazes lock and hold until, finally, we both burst out laughing. “Flashdance references, Clint? Really?”
He merely shrugs. “It was the best I could come up with on the spot.” He holds up a finger. “And I think it’s quite applicable.”
Studying him, I ask. “What exactly are you saying I should do?”
“Besides getting a unitard, some leg warmers, and dancing your ass off before dousing yourself with water?” he immediately responds.
I blink. “Besides that.”
“Give it your all. Put yourself out there. Because”—he lifts a shoulder slightly—“I think he has potential.” His lips curve into a shit-eating grin. “To be more than Mr. Blue Balls.”
Before I can form a response, we’re interrupted, and Clint makes his way down the hallway to check on a patient. And I’m left with two things lingering in my mind.
One, the idea of putting myself out there and giving things with Jack a chance.
And two, that damn Flashdance song whose chorus includes something like “She’s a maniac on the floor” is on replay in my mind.
* * *
“Let me get this straight. You turned down a super sexy, sweet guy because he wanted to love you and have a relationship?” Maggie asks nonchalantly. Chopsticks in hand, she waves them at me. “Are you just semi-nuts or one hundred percent?”
“Hey! What’s this about him being sexy?” Ry mutters, shooting his wife a hurt look before devouring another piece of sushi.
My friends decided we needed a sushi dinner night out. I know what it really is, though.
An intervention.
Except I’m not an addict; I’m just a hot mess of emotions. Who knew I’d miss Jack so much? That I’d miss his text messages or his seemingly endless supply of chocolates? His humor? His smile? His kisses? The way his lips were so incredibly soft and tender when he—
Whoa. What the hell? My mind is betraying me. Clearly.
Maggie rolls her eyes, not even sparing a glance at Ry because she knows he’s messing with her. “Sarah, have you thought about this? Like really thought about it?” Concern is etched across her features.
Suddenly losing my appetite, I toss down my chopsticks. “Of course,” I answer in heated exasperation. “I thought about it every single time my mother went above and beyond, trying to cater to a new man in hopes he’d stick around. I still think about it while she continues to do the same thing.”
Maggie levels a look at me. “Do you care for Jack?”
I eye her warily. “Of course, I care for him. I care for you and Ry and—”
“Do you care for him as more than a friend?”
My lips press thin, entire body tensing. “As someone I was intimate with, sure.”
Maggie’s eyes narrow. “Not what I’m asking, and you know that.”
Ry lets out a loud, exasperated breath, slapping down his chopsticks, and locks his eyes on me. “Do you get excited when he’s around? When you talk to him?” Leaning his forearms on the table where he sits across from me, he continues. “Do you get that little flutter of excitement when he smiles at you? Are you generally happier with him around?”
I don’t answer immediately, mulling over his questions. “Flutter of excitement? Did you read that in one of Maggie’s magazines?”
My flippant question meant to derail the line of uncomfortable questioning does nothing. Ry and Maggie stare back at me, stonewalling me.
Covering my face with my hands, I let out a tiny groan. “Everyone’s against me, I swear.”
“We’re not against you, Sarah.” Maggie’s response is immediate and gentle. “We care about you. That’s all it is.”
“And Jack, too. We care about him,” adds Ry. “I mean, he was my fake boyfriend for about a year, so I kinda have—”
“We care about both of you,” Maggie interrupts. “And we want you to be happy.”
My hands slip from my face to shoot back in irritation, “But I am—”
“No, you’re not,” Maggie and Ry say in unison.
My lips part to argue, but they both hold up a hand to stop me. My sigh borders on petulant, but I don’t care. I don’t appreciate them ganging up on me. First Clint, and now these two.
Maggie’s tone gentles. “You’re not happy, sweetie. We can all see that, and I know deep down that you realize it, too.”
“I’ve met your mother, Sarah,” Ry offers, his expression sobering, “and while I adore her, you’re nothing like her.” He tips his head to the side, thoughtfully. “You’re ambitious, kind, fun, incredibly smart, and have a huge heart. A woman with all that going for her isn’t meant to be alone, drifting through life without attachments. A woman like you is meant to—”
“Love and be loved,” Maggie chimes in as she and Ry finish together. Turning to one another in surprise, they laugh before their attention returns to me.
Toying with my wooden chopsticks on the table, I murmur, “But what if Jack and I aren’t meant to be together? I mean”—my voice grows softer, more faint—“he did what my father did. He didn’t stick around. And he…let me leave.”
I focus my gaze on the table, continuing to mess with my chopsticks when a large hand moves to cover mine. Raising my eyes to meet Ry’s somber gaze, I feel the warmth of his hand seep into my suddenly cold, clammy one.
“You hurt one another. It takes time to get your mind right and get your feelings sorted. The question is, are you going to let him slip away? Would you be able to face him at some point when we all get together and meet his fiancée? His wife? To see him with his wife and kids?”
My stomach clenches painfully at the thought of Jack marrying someone else. Of him having a life, having kids…without me.
“The look on your face tells me all I need to know.” Ry’s hand squeezes mine before releasing his hold and drawing back. “Now what are you going to do about it?”
Well, hell. That really is the million-dollar question. What am I going to do about it?
I have no freaking clue.