Ross pulled up in front of Sharon’s apartment and double checked the parking signs. If he got ticketed because he didn’t see a street sweeping sign or something of that sort, it wouldn’t be the first time. Better safe than sorry. Once satisfied on that point, he threw the car into park and looked up at the building. It wasn’t as nice as his, nor was it in such a prime location, but it exuded an air of cozy charm and the surrounding neighborhood looked like a fun place to live.

The moment he stepped into the foyer, he could feel a sense of warmth that was distinctly lacking in his own home. Not that the chilly atmosphere or distinct lack of décor in his apartment was intentional. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone with its elegant austerity. It was just that he was so rarely at home due to his work schedule that it seemed pointless to decorate. But this place? This was the kind of setting that made him think of kicking off his shoes and curling up on a comfy couch with a good book. It felt like coming home.

He hesitated in the open doorway of Sharon’s apartment, listening to the chatter of several people inside. Last Saturday, after he had told Sharon about his mom (and they had indulged in a round of comfort sex in the shower), Sharon had invited him to come over today. He’d said yes without even thinking about it. He rarely got to spend time with anyone outside of work, and this might be a good change of pace. But now he was second-guessing himself. Was this a little too permanent? Was Sharon starting to think of him as a steady boyfriend?

The idea of being anyone’s anything made him want to head for the hills. He’d done that once before, and he could still feel the Amanda’s metaphorical claws digging into him. He had been hers, as she’d made it abundantly clear to everyone, and that had meant that his life was supposed to revolve around her. He couldn’t do that again.

As he stood there, one foot in and one foot out, Sharon passed by the doorway and saw him. He noticed with pride that she was barely limping anymore. She really had taken to the physical therapy with an intensity and success that he’d rarely seen.

“You came!” Sharon said, waving him inside.

“You sound so surprised,” he said.

“I worried that a patient might call you away,” she admitted, giving him a hug. Ross instinctively hugged her back, remembering the last time she’d been in his arms, and how he’d been able to just sink into her. He couldn’t do that here—her friends would notice—but it was still nice to just hold her for a moment.

“C’mon in, I’ve got food and drinks out here.” Sharon pulled away and gestured at the kitchen island, which was covered in snack foods like queso and chips, salad, chocolate candies, and pigs in a blanket. “Hey everybody, this is Ross. Ross, this is everybody.”

‘Everybody’ seemed to be five people lounging around on the couch and chairs. Sharon introduced them all one by one.

“That’s Leticia,” Sharon said, gesturing at a pretty Latina woman perched on the arm of the couch. “Watch out, she’s never met a stranger.

“That’s Jonas,” Sharon pointed at a skinny man with dyed purple hair who was in the middle of a tug-of-war for a TV remote with a curvy blonde wearing Star Trek pajamas, “And the nerd he’s fighting with is Debbie.”

“Takes one to know one,” Debbie retorted, which allowed Jonas to gain the advantage and snatch the remote out of her hands. He gave a crow of triumph and flipped the channel from a ballgame to the Food Network.

“And last but of course not least,” Sharon finished up, gesturing at the last members of the group, “We have Melanie and Tom. They like to take advantage of the twin thing, ignore it.”

Melanie and Tom, a pair of black siblings who were, in fact, wearing identical button-up shirts, gray slacks, and glasses, both raised their right hands and flipped Sharon off while wearing scarily identical grins.

“And that’s everybody!” Sharon put her hands on her hips. “Okay, guys, be gentle on this one, he’s new.”

“I’m always gentle unless someone requests otherwise,” Leticia replied with a naughty grin. So this was the famous Leticia. Ross made his way over to her while Sharon went to play referee between Jonas and Debbie, who were apparently fighting over whether to watch a marathon of Chopped, or Star Trek.

“Ross,” he said, holding his hand out for Leticia to shake. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

“Likewise,” Leticia said with a smile that was far too knowing for Ross’s liking. Of course, Sharon had every right to talk to her friends about her sex life. He just hoped that Leticia wouldn’t read too much into his visit to Sharon’s apartment. “So what brings you here tonight, Dr. Hardwick? You don’t seem the type to hang out with your one-night stands.”

It was a fair question, but it didn’t make Ross feel any more at ease. “Sharon and I like each other’s company, and she suggested that I might need an evening to relax,” he says in as casual a tone as he can muster. “And I could stand to make some more friends, so here I am.”

“So here you are.” Leticia peered at him through narrowed eyes. “Careful, the queso’s spicy.”

With that, Ross knew he’d been dismissed—for now, anyway. He wandered over to grab some food and soon found himself wrapped up in a conversation with Tom. It seemed Tom was an artist, and he had heard about Ross’s knowledge of Cubism from Sharon.

“I’m lucky that Melanie got a good job and is willing to put up with me,” Tom told him, grabbing some glasses from the cupboard and ignored Sharon’s fake-annoyed commentary (“Oh no, please, just go through my kitchen Tom—it’s not like you left an unholy mess in there last time or anything”) as he filled them with water. “I rent out a small studio over in the North Shore neighborhood so I can be near the park and the Warhol museum.”

“Have you had any shows recently?” Ross asked.

“Yes, actually.” Tom’s grin was a bit sly. “You might have seen some of my work at the gala that Hearts in Hands just hosted. Leticia and I worked together to get Sharon the venue for the gala. Leticia works at the Carnegie Museum as an art historian.”

“Really?” Ross looked over at Leticia, who was now making commentary on Chopped—it seemed that Jonas had won the television war—and saying something about the time she’d danced topless on top of a bar their junior year of college. “She does not strike me as an art historian.”

“Apparently I don’t strike people as an artist,” Tom replied. “People usually think I’m a lawyer.”

“What’s it like living with your sister?” Ross asked. “I’m an only child, but I’ve always wondered what it’s like to have siblings.”

“There’s not really anything like it,” Tom said. “I mean, friends come close, but friends are like the positive side of siblings. When you live with someone your entire life and they’re your age, you tend to see their bad sides as well as the good. But Melanie and I make it work. We balance each other out. She’s a therapist, so in a way, both our careers revolve around emotions. She focuses on the causes of emotions and the best strategies for regulating them in a healthy way, and I’m all about celebrating the chaos.”

“Chaos, huh?”

“Life is chaos,” Tom pointed out. “You can’t help where you end up really. Did you grow up here?”

“Yeah,” Ross replied, wondering why he was changing the subject.

“Well, what if you’d grown up in Boston? Or Los Angeles? You had no control over where you started out or where you came from, and you also don’t get to dictate how certain things make you feel. At best, you can only control how you react to emotions. You can’t control what you’re passionate about, or who you fall in love with.”

Ross seemed jolted at that last bit. Then a brief moment of what Tom said registered deep down inside. He looked directly at Tom, who was looking at Sharon. Ross got a sick feeling in his stomach. “You’re not…”

“Pining for Sharon? God, no.” Tom laughed. “I love the girl but not like that. I meant you.”

“I’m not… we’re friends,” Ross finished lamely.

“Right.” Tom grinned. “Friends look at each other like that, sure.”

Ross looked over at Sharon, who was laughing at something that Melanie had said. As if she could sense his gaze, she turned, still smiling. Ross’s breath caught in his throat. He had to swallow hard and force himself to smile back. Sharon looked a little messy. Her hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail and she was sprawled inelegantly across the couch, but in that moment, she looked more beautiful than she had when he’d first seen her at the gala.

Then Jonas said something to Sharon and her attention was drawn away. Just like that, Ross felt like he could breathe again.

Tom shook his head, still grinning, and Ross rolled his eyes at him. “We’re not dating.”

“I never said that you were,” Tom replied.

“Stop monopolizing him,” Melanie scolded, joining then. “We all want to get to know this Sharon’s mystery guy.” She turned to Ross with a smile. “Sharon has been refusing to tell us anything about you.”

“Don’t trust that smile,” Tom warned. “She’s here to tell you that if you screw Sharon over, she’s going to destroy you both emotionally and physically. Like I said she’s a therapist—she’s good at emotionally destroying people.”

“Emotionally destroying people is the opposite of my job description. Stop making me sound like an asshole,” Melanie said, rolling her eyes at her brother and physically inserting herself between him and Ross. “Now go bother Debbie or something.”

Tom held his hands up in a placating gesture, laughing, and obediently went over to join the others.

“I hope he wasn’t being painfully obvious,” Melanie said, in a tone that implied she had overheard at least part of their conversation. “He just wants Sharon to be happy and he sees how much she likes you.”

“Has she really talked about me that much?” Ross asked, taking a sip of water to hide the nervous look he was sure he was wearing.

“No, she’s kept things private,” Melanie assured him. “But Sharon doesn’t do one-night stands, and when she said that she was seeing you again, well… we knew that it meant something. The fact that she invited you here also means something.”

“I’ve been pretty bad about maintaining my friendships,” Ross admitted. “I think that was part of it.”

“She said that you are a doctor,” Melanie replied. “That must take up a lot of your time.”

Ross grimaced. “It’s not so much that. It’s… I lost a lot of friends while I was dating my last girlfriend.”

Melanie’s mouth pulled into a tight little frown and she folded her arms. “You know that’s a sign of a bad relationship, right?” She asked. “If none of your friends like your partner or vice versa…”

“No, I know. She’s out of my life.”

“Good.” Melanie gave a brisk nod. “I just want to be sure that you understand that. Even when someone gets out of a bad relationship, if they don’t recognize the things that made it so bad, they’re liable to get stuck in a similar relationship again.”

Ross couldn’t completely hold in his shudder. The idea of being with Amanda, or someone like Amanda, again made him want to throw up.

Melanie’s face softened a little. “I’m sorry, it’s just habit. As a therapist, I can’t really give people answers. I’m supposed to ask questions and help them come to their own answers and conclusions. It’s more powerful when you reach the answer yourself instead of having it handed to you. But when I’m off the clock I can do whatever I want, so I sometimes give into the impulse to give advice without thinking.”

“No, you’re fine,” Ross told her. “It’s not like you’re saying anything that I don’t already know.”

“Were there other red flags?” Melanie asked. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I don’t mind.” Something about Melanie’s no-nonsense manner made it easy to open up to her. “Um, there were a lot, actually, but I didn’t realize them at the time.”

“That’s how it usually is,” Melanie said gently. “It can be hard for us to see the forest for the trees in our relationships.”

“That’s a good way of putting it,” Ross said. “I knew that I was unhappy with her, but I didn’t put it all together and realize how selfish and manipulative she was.”

He paused as a question came to mind. He glanced at Sharon. She had been light and carefree about their relationship, demanding respect, but never asking for anything more than he was willing to give her. When he looked back at Melanie, she had a soft look in her eyes. Something about her expression reminded him of Tom’s sly grin, despite looking nothing like it.

“Is it normal,” Ross asked, slowly, “for the memories of a person to still feel… fresh? For you to still have a physical reaction to those memories, even if it’s been years?”

Melanie nodded. “It’ll happen when you’ve had an emotionally damaging experience. Even if you don’t want to admit it, your body knows it’s scared and it’ll do whatever it takes to remind you of that feeling so that you don’t do it again.”

“But I don’t want to be reminded. I don’t need to be reminded.” He didn’t want to look at Sharon and think only of Amanda, especially since the two women were nothing alike.

“Have you spoken to anyone about the relationship?” Melanie asked. “And I mean in detail, complete with a good cry?”

“No,” Ross admitted.

“I would suggest that, then,” Melanie said. “And not as a therapist but as a potential friend. If Sharon has bothered to keep you around long enough to meet us, then you’re a good guy, and I’d hate to think that a good guy like you is going around carrying a burden that he doesn’t deserve.”

Ross didn’t know what to say to that. Luckily he was saved from replying by Debbie, who leaned over the back of the couch and said, “Are you two going to keep hogging the food while being all serious, or are you going to bring it over to share with the rest of us like actual human beings?”

Melanie gave Debbie an incredibly fond look, and Ross had to resist the urge to tease her. Oh, so that’s how it is?

Ross dutifully carried some of the snacks from the kitchen island to the coffee table in front of the couch, and then he followed them up with glasses of water for everyone. Sharon assured him that he needn’t go to that effort—her friends were perfectly capable of getting their own water—at which point Debbie piped in to say that the newbie was on the bottom rung of their social ladder and thus had to serve the rest of them.

“I hope you don’t treat your paralegal like this,” Sharon scolded Debbie as Ross sat joined them, handing Debbie her water glass.

“My paralegal is willing to forgive anything in exchange for designer coffee in the break room and frequent offerings of gourmet cookies,” Debbie replied with a grin. “Besides, she already knows she’s irreplaceable.”

“You’re a lawyer?” Ross asked.

Debbie nodded. “I know, I don’t look it. Just like Tom doesn’t look like an artist in that suit, and Leticia looks nothing like a nerdy art historian. At least Melanie and Jonas look the part, right fashionista?” Debbie poked at Jonas, who stuck his tongue out at her.

“I’m an assistant designer for a niche clothing brand,” Jonas explained. “It’s a small company, but it’s a high-level position, and I’m hoping that I can use the experience to land a job in New York City as a designer or fashion editor.”

“He wants to abandon us,” Leticia countered.

“Oh c’mon, it’s only a…” Jonas grabbed his phone and pulled up a map application. “It’s only a six-hour drive! You guys can totally visit all the time. Or just move up there with me.”

“For the last time, no, I will not live in that crowded mess of a city,” Melanie replied. “And you—” She pointed at Tom, “Don’t get any ideas either.”

“I take it this is an old argument,” Ross said to Debbie.

“As old as time,” Debbie said. “Jonas has been threatening to leave us for the city that never sleeps for about five years now.”

“As if he could possibly leave us,” Sharon said, smiling at Ross over her glass. He knew she was talking about Jonas, but something about the way that she said it while looking at him made him want to reassure her that he, too, wasn’t going anywhere—and wasn’t that a scary thought.

“But since you’ve brought up the fact that I’m a lawyer,” Debbie said, twisting so that she could look Ross dead in the eye, “Time for the cross-examination.”

“Come on, Deb, I didn’t invite him so you all could give him an ulcer or something,” Sharon said. She then pointed at Ross. “And if you tell me that’s not how ulcers work, no more food for you.”

“I just have one question,” Debbie said. Ross braced himself. “Who’s the better captain, Picard or Kirk?”

Ross relaxed. A debate over Star Trek, now that he could get into. Satisfied that Debbie wasn’t actually going to rake him across the coals, he declared that the calm, even-keeled Picard was the better option, and soon he and Debbie were going at it—she was, apparently, a die-hard fan of Kirk and the original series, despite its cheesy writing.

“Are you kidding me!?” Jonas yelled at the television. “You have only two minutes left, you don’t have time to make a vinaigrette!”

“That’s the signal, I’m getting the beer out,” Tom said, going to the fridge and passing bottles around to everyone.

“He can do it,” Debbie said, interrupting her argument with Ross to interject over Jonas’s frantic yelling.

Ross, sandwiched between the yelling Jonas and the increasingly-animated Debbie, looked over at Sharon, who just smiled and raised her beer bottle in a silent toast. Ross mirrored both her expression and gesture until Debbie reclaimed his attention to explain the rules of the show.

“Four chefs,” Melanie intoned, “Three courses, only one chance to win!”

“Please stop using that voice, it sounds creepy,” Tom said.

“Wait,” Ross said, hardly able to make himself heard above the chaos. Jonas was swearing loudly because the chef had managed to get his vinaigrette made, but had forgotten one of the basket ingredients, and Leticia was smacking Jonas on the back of the head for swearing. Ross kept talking anyway. “How do you all know each other?”

It made sense for Tom and Leticia to know one another, since one was an art historian and the other an artist. Leticia would have met Melanie through Tom, and Sharon had been Leticia’s roommate in college, so that was where she fit in. But how did Debbie and Jonas meet everyone else?

“Well, Letty and I met each other when I got to be part of an exhibit at the Carnegie,” Tom said, “And I met Sharon through her.”

“Leticia, Sharon and I all knew each other in college,” Debbie said. “I was a political science major before I went to law school. I needed a roommate and so I lived with Leticia, and then we needed a third roommate and got Jonas.”

“Letty introduced Tom and Melanie to the rest of us because they were coming over to our apartment all the time,” Jonas added. He looked at the television and swore again. “Fuck, c’mon, you don’t feed Scott Conant red onions, Jesus. Anyway,” he looked back at Ross, “Sharon would come over because it was just where everyone else was, and that was that.”

“Although now we’re a bit scattered,” Melanie added. “Tom and I still have our old place, but Sharon moved to the south side, as you can see, and Debbie, Jonas and Leticia each have their own apartments now.”

“I don’t see the point of wasting my youth in a courtroom if I can’t take advantage of my paycheck,” Debbie replied. “And besides, at the end of the day I just don’t want to see another human being.”

“Says the girl who calls me every night because she’s bored and needs to talk to someone about the latest show she’s binge watching on Netflix,” Melanie pointed out, giving Debbie another fond smile.

Ross wondered, with a funny feeling in his chest, if he wore that same expression when he looked at Sharon. It was worrying how relaxed he felt in this setting, and with these people. They seemed so comfortable around one another, so used to picking up the threads of each other’s stories and throwing around playful jabs, and it made him realize how much he’d missed this. He had been out of touch with his friends for so long that he’d forgotten what it was like to be surrounded by this sort of amicable chaos. But by inviting him here today, Sharon had reminded him.

Ross felt his throat tighten in panic. He wanted to run, to get the hell out, to make a dash for the door and run down the steps and get into his car and never look back. Because he was too comfortable here, too open, too vulnerable. The boundaries he’d set for his relationship with Sharon were starting to break down in this atmosphere of zany camaraderie.

But he liked how Jonas was so invested in this cooking competition, and how he seemed to know all the judges’ quirks. He liked Debbie’s nerdiness, and the fact that Tom and Leticia were now arguing about art (“You can’t say that Duchamp’s Fountain isn’t art!” “I will say it as much as I damn well please—”), and how Melanie was giving Debbie a shoulder massage while pretending not to blush. And he especially liked watching Sharon sit on her chair next to the sofa with a beer in hand, quietly watching it all with a soft smile.

And honestly, he deserved to have friends. He deserved to be a little goofy, and hold debates about Star Trek captains, and yell at the television about food, and make bets with Melanie about who could shove more chocolate into their mouth. He won that bet, although he nearly choked in the process, which earned him shoulder pats from Sharon while Jonas pointed out how ironic it would be if their group’s only doctor needed medical attention. That was when Sharon switched places with Debbie so that she could sit next to him, while Debbie curled up like a cat on the chair and complained about how much food she’d eaten. Meanwhile, Tom, Melanie, and Jonas were a tangle of limbs on the other end of the couch. Leticia was still perched on the arm of the couch as if she hadn’t moved all night, and according to Ross’s recollection, she hadn’t.

Sharon remained pressed against his side, and if Ross worked an arm around her shoulders—and if Leticia raised an eyebrow at him like she could read his mind—what of it? He was three beers in, full of food and M&Ms, with Sharon laughing and smiling up at him, and it felt like all was right in the world for the first time in… well, years.

By the time the night was over, it felt like he had known these people his entire life. It made his chest ache to think of how long it had been since he spent quality time with friends. He should get back in touch with some of his medical school buddies and make more of a point to go out with his coworkers to the local bar. It was unfair both to the people he considered friends and to himself that he wasn’t making an effort to spend time with them.

One by one, everyone trickled out of the apartment. Jonas was the first to go, citing some work he’d brought home with him for the weekend that was due Monday. Next was Melanie carrying a food-comatose Debbie, which prompted Leticia to mutter about idiots who needed to get their shit together. Tom left shortly after that, despite having his own transportation, since it was late and the apartment he shared with Melanie was on the other side of town. Soon it was just Leticia and Sharon who were left, and as they chatted quietly on the sofa, Ross took a proper look around the apartment now that it wasn’t so crowded.

He had to admit, he liked Sharon’s apartment better than his own. There were homey touches everywhere, like a collection of mix-matched coffee mugs, prints of Impressionist paintings in the bathroom, and a homemade throw rug in the entrance. As he enjoyed the warm, inviting atmosphere of the place, he couldn’t deny how unlike a home his own apartment was. Since his mom’s passing and the whole debacle with Amanda, he’d thrown himself into his work, and so he had never gotten around to decorating his apartment. It was ridiculous to put time and funds into a place he barely lived in, or so he’d always thought. But now that he had Sharon’s home for comparison, he realized how cold and empty his own place was. He found himself wishing that he didn’t have to go back home, and that he could spend the night here.

There was a soft touch on his shoulder, and he turned to see Sharon gazing up at him. “Leticia just left,” she said, her voice soft.

“What were you two talking about?” Ross asked, surprised to find his own voice just as soft. It was like they had entered into a dreamy, fragile state, something that would be broken if they raised their voices.

“She’s frustrated that Melanie won’t get up the guts to ask Debbie out,” Sharon said. She gently took the beer from Ross’s hand and set it down. “Did you like them?”

“I did.” Ross smiled. He’d liked all of them. “You’re still my favorite, though.”

“Thank God, I was starting to worry.” That now-familiar teasing light came into Sharon’s eyes. “You’re glad I invited you then? It wasn’t awkward?”

“No.” Ross reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb swiping lightly over her cheekbone. “Not at all.”

For the first time in months, perhaps years, he’d had a taste of home.