“You’re a nutjob,” I say with a laugh.
“Good morning, everybody,” Dr. MacDougall’s voice booms from behind me.
I spin in place at his clear call to order. As the room quiets, my eyes fall on our chief … and a man I’ve never seen before standing next to him. It takes my brain about two seconds when a loud gasp of recognition escapes me. Everyone turns to look, including him, and I blush deeply. Thankfully, Dr. MacDougall clears his throat, bringing the attention back to the front of the room. As he starts his usual greeting speech, Becca leans in.
“What was that all about?” she whispers.
I turn toward her so she can see the shock on my face, and my hand finds hers, gripping it tightly.
“It’s him,” I hiss. Becca gives me a confused look, and I roll my eyes. “Universe Guy.”
Becca gives me a skeptical look, her eyes turning back to the front. Taking in what I did. All six-feet-two-ish inches of the dark-haired, blue-eyed, and unquestionably sexy hunk of a well-built man in blue scrubs and a white lab coat standing next to Dr. MacDougall as he rambles about our round stats for the week.
“Are you sure?” she whispers back. “Maybe you just think it’s Universe Guy because we were just talking about him.”
With a lump in my throat, I chance another look at him. Thankfully, his eyes are roaming the crowd as Dr. MacDougall gives his usual boring speech that is now shifting toward a lecture on proper chart notes. The young man I remember was clean-shaven, and though this guy has a well-trimmed beard that defines his sharp jaw, otherwise it’s the exact face I remember, just a bit older. Same broad shoulders. Same trim waist. Though he’s filled out in the chest and arms, and I can practically see the muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt. But I’ve got the same butterflies in my stomach.
“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure it’s him,” I mumble. As if he heard me, his eyes land on me. And the sound of Dr. MacDougall droning on muffles under the pounding of my heart in my ears. My insides tighten. And, for the second time in my life, the universe goes quiet. A surge of emotion pounds through me, even stronger than the one ten years ago. I’ve never reacted to anyone this way, and it’s equal parts terrifying and thrilling, and I can’t stop staring back into his baby blues.
But when his eyes snap away suddenly, the volume comes rushing back. And I notice that my heart is pounding and I’m breathing like I just ran sprints. I take a deep breath to steady myself, hoping nobody noticed my ridiculous reaction to him.
“… and so, finally, I’d like to introduce the newest addition to our team, specializing in cardiac surgery, Dr. Thompson. Though he was heavily recruited out of his residency with Cedars-Sinai, he chose to stay there — until now. We are extremely lucky to have him, so please join me in welcoming him to our team.”
A smattering of applause rings around the room, and I clap my hands together with them, but I’m completely numb with shock.
Dr. Thompson puts a hand up in greeting, and the room once again falls silent.
“Thank you, everyone,” he says. And my jaw drops at the unmistakably posh British accent. “I’m Dr. Caleb Thompson. As you’ve probably noticed, I’m not originally from Los Angeles.” A few in the crowd, mostly females, titter at his comment. “I graduated from Cambridge seven years ago now, then moved to the States for my residency. While I enjoyed my time at Cedars-Sinai, I’m already very impressed with Rutherford Hospital, and I’m pleased to be working with you all. I will be making my rounds to get to know each of you throughout the day. But first, may I ask, who are my surgical nurses?” Jules’ hand goes up, as do several others. “Excellent. Good to put faces to the names on my sheet.” He holds a clipboard aloft with a smile that gets another few titters from the peanut gallery. But my heart is in my shoes.
He moved here seven years ago. He can’t be Universe Guy. My eyes scan his face as he continues to talk about how he plans to integrate into established routines, consultations, and the like, but all I can think about is how much he looks like The Guy. I even had the same reaction. And then some. By the time he’s done and we’ve all been dismissed, I’m dumbly zoning out in my own bubble of confusion.
I feel a tug on my elbow as Becca tries to get my attention.
“Hey, I have to start processing patients. You okay?” I finally look up to see the look of pity on her face. She’s clearly also realized he can’t possibly be the same guy from my story.
“Sure, yeah,” I mumble. “Sorry. I just could’ve sworn it was him.”
Becca gives a light shrug. “Probably better that it isn’t,” she says gently. “After all, what’s the first rule of Nurses’ Club?”
That gets a smile out of me. “Never talk about Nurses’ Club?” I tease.
She wrinkles her nose and jiggles her head. “That just gets funnier every time I hear it,” she replies wryly, then gives me an expectant look.
“I know, I know,” I reply with a sigh. “Never date a doctor.”
It’s been drilled into me so many times. Not because it’s against policy; it’s not. But the relationship between doctors and their support staff is already difficult at best, and lives are literally on the line every day. Even in my time here, I see the wisdom of not complicating that further. Not that it matters. Even if he was Universe Guy, what chance would I have with a guy like that?
“That’s right, boo,” Becca says. “Chin up.” She shoots a look at Dr. Thompson, who is deep in conversation with Jules. “If it helps, there are still donuts left.”
A little chuckle escapes me, and it snaps me back to reality. What am I even doing thinking about this guy? He’s not who I thought he was. He’s now a doctor in our unit. Even if he was interested, it’s not going to happen. And while I hadn’t been planning on having one, I decide a donut sounds pretty damn good.
“It does help,” I reply with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Becks. See you in a bit.”
She gives me a wink and slips out the door. I grab the last glazed donut and follow suit, not even looking at Dr. Hottie on my way out. It’s better that way, because I have a feeling being too close to him wouldn’t go well for me.
But Jules apparently has other ideas.
“Sasha,” she calls as I step over the threshold, “come meet Dr. Thompson.”
I turn slowly on the spot to find Jules staring at me expectantly. Dr. Thompson is looking at me, a half-smile on his face as he studies me curiously. His eyes sweeping casually over me sends chills down my spine.
“Of course,” I reply, clearing my throat and switching the donut to my left hand so I can extend my right as I step toward them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Thompson.”
His large, warm hand slips into mine, and my insides do their little clenching thing again. He may not be who I thought he was, but, as Becca teased me about on Friday, I have a type. And he’s definitely it. I swallow hard and try not to let the nervous tension I feel affect my smile as I look up into his eyes. It doesn’t work, and I push back against the well of want that is bubbling up inside of me.
“Sasha … Suvorin?” he guesses.
I clear my throat, willing back my body’s reaction. “You’re a quick study,” I reply.