"I've been there several times." My tone was way too defensive to be believable. I tried again. "Nick is amazing and his wife is really sweet. I've always had a good time when I've been to their house. It just doesn't work out all the time. That's all."
"Acevedo lived in the third-floor apartment before me," Sebastian said. "Emmerling has been on the second floor for as long as I've known her and—"
"And Cal Hartshorn lived in my apartment before me. I know. I'm familiar with the recent history of the doctor dorm."
He murmured something as he worked back up to my shoulders and neck. "I'm just saying, it's a good group."
"Yes and that's not intimidating at all," I sang.
"Excuse me but did you just suggest you find anyone intimidating? Because I'm pretty sure you could boil water with nothing more than your side-eye as a heat source."
"Has anyone ever told you that you exaggerate profusely?"
"No. Never. That is completely new information." He brushed the loose strands from my neck and twisted my ponytail around his fist. "The Acevedos are having a small party in a few weeks. You should come."
I tried to shake my head but he stroked a thumb down the line of my neck and I melted a little more. "I will have to think about that," I managed.
"What's there to think about? Acevedo's making tacos. End of deliberation."
"Maybe I have other plans," I said.
"Maybe you should cancel them."
"Maybe I don't like parties," I replied.
"Neither do I," he said. "I don't like people. They're exhausting." When I didn't respond, he continued. "You should come anyway."
"Why?"
If there was one thing I always wanted—regardless of whether it was healthy or safe—it was approval. Choose me, include me, praise me, validate me. I wanted it when it was unavailable—hello, mother; hello, father—and I wanted it when it didn't make sense. Like right now. I wanted Sebastian to tell me that he wanted me at this party. No damn sense—and also, what the fuck was wrong with me?
We were white-knuckling it through conflict resolution counseling, not coupling up for dinner parties with the friend group.
"You're thinking too hard, Shap. It's tacos and Acevedo's new residents. Hartshorn will show up at least an hour late, Emmerling's husband will do something crazy like climbing on the roof to check the shingles, and O'Rourke will tell stories about Minnesota."
"And what about you? Which role do you play?"
"I find a comfortable spot to sit and not speak to anyone. But listen, you should come along. All anyone talks about is surgery, the food is amazing, and the people are chill. You'd like it."
"That sounds…" Honestly, it sounded fun. But also overwhelming and impossible to slip away unnoticed when I was maxed out. "It sounds great but I really need some time to check my schedule."
He stopped rubbing my shoulders and peered at me. "What's the real issue?"
I pivoted to face him. "Why does it matter?"
"Because there are people falling over themselves to spend time with you but you can't be bothered, and I just want to know why."
"I am not required to explain myself to you," I said. "You're entitled to exactly nothing from me."
"Oh, trust me, honey, I'm aware." He crossed his arms over his chest. I did the same. "For the life of me, I can't understand their thinking on this but Nick and Erin have someone they want you to meet."
"What…does that mean?"
"It means Erin has a friend, some professor guy, and she thinks you two could hit it off." He scowled at this, saying, "Can't really see why they'd want to torture the guy but whatever. I'm just the asshole tasked with getting you there. Not my problem after that point."
I stared at him for a long moment, remembering in a horrible rush why that approval kink of mine was so dangerous. Every time I allowed myself to believe I'd get the inclusion and recognition I wanted, shame was waiting there to slap me back for thinking I deserved anything of the sort.
Sebastian didn't want me at the party, and I was stupid for thinking otherwise. But I wasn't going to shrink in front of this man.
"So, you drew the short straw?" I asked.
"Don't I always?" He rolled his eyes toward the sky before saying, "Since I get to spend so much quality time with you, I'm supposed to close the deal." He frowned as he looked me up and down. "Is it working?"
I reached into my bag, pulled out my phone. "Oh, yeah. It's working." I opened a text message to Acevedo. "Consider your mission accomplished. I'm telling Nick that I'll be there." I sent the message and shot Sebastian a satisfied grin. "I can't wait to meet this professor. I have a good feeling about this."
I didn't think it was possible for Sebastian's scowl to deepen but it did, turning his entire face into a dark, scruffy storm cloud.
I glanced to the café behind me. "I'm not in the mood for tea anymore."
He replied with a slow blink that seemed to indicate he wanted his hands on my neck again though not to work out my knots.
"Enjoy the coffee," I said, backing down the street. "And hating everything. Good luck with all that."
I left him staring after me and that gave me a quick jolt of pleasure but it didn't last. Before I even reached the next block, the pleasure was gone and in its place was a cold, crumbling dread.
Every time we clawed out an inch of progress, we fell back a foot. Since neither of us were willing to budge, the cycle went on repeating. I didn't know how much longer I could do this before it really started to hurt.
Chapter 15
Sara
Sara: Hey! I hear there's a thing at Nick and Erin's place in a few weeks? What's that about?
Alex: Yeah, I remember Nick mentioning that the other day, but I wasn't listening because my resident was being a fool.
Sara: Okay.
Alex: Are you thinking about coming along?
Sara: Sigh…
Sara: Stremmel and I got into an argument about the party. I texted Nick on the spot to say I'd be there.
Sara: Didn't think that one all the way through.
Alex: Ha. You and Stremmel, getting into another fight. Imagine that.
Sara: I know, I know.
Alex: You know what's funny to me? For the most part, you're cheerful and energetic, and even when you're tough, you're kind and positive about it. You are widely admired and appropriately feared. It's a great balance. I'm still working on reaching that level and will do anything to know your secrets. But the second you see Stremmel, the war paint goes on, the gloves come off, and you throw the fuck down. Stremmel breathes and you're like "I'm gonna kill that motherfucker for all his motherfucking!"
Sara: You're feared. Don't worry.
Alex: Feared, sometimes. Admired, rarely.
Sara: You're being too hard on yourself.
Alex: And you're being too hard on Stremmel. I say the same thing to Riley all the time. He lets Stremmel push his buttons and that's what's happening here.