If he doesn't, then that's not exactly a good sign. Like he wants you to keep you a secret. If you're really worried, then this is a good solution. It will tell you what he's thinking.
I don't really like the idea of testing him when he doesn't know what's happening.
I mean, you're not doing it as a test, you want to see him right?
Yeah, of course.
Well, then go see him. It's just a side effect that his reaction to you will show you a lot about where you stand.
I suppose that's true.
It is. Go get him.
It's almost the end of the workday, and I'm basically killing time anyway. My boss knows that I do my work and get it done, so he doesn't care when I come and go. He trusts that whatever I need to do is in good hands.
I double-check that everything is taken care of before packing up. I honestly have no idea what Adam likes to eat, but I'm going to take a chance and pick up some pasta from one of my favorite places. Pasta seems like a safe choice. Most people like pasta, right? Besides, it has to be better than hospital food either way.
For a second I debate going home to change out of my really boring work clothes, but I'm way closer to the hospital here at work. Going all the way back to Astoria and coming back to Manhattan would easily take more than an hour, and I don't want to waste that kind of time.
I place the order for the food before I head out the door. This is one of my go-tos for lunch when I forget to pack one. They're fast and delicious without being overly expensive. When you find those qualities in a restaurant in New York, it’s kind of like spotting a unicorn.
When I walk in the door ten minutes later, my food is already packed and waiting, and it takes me less than five minutes to pay and get out. Now that I'm committing, I feel a buzz of excitement in my stomach. There's a small part of me that thinks I should text him first, but fuck it, I want to surprise him. And I definitely want to see how hot he looks in scrubs.
I take a cab to the Upper East Side, not wanting to deal with rush-hour delays on the subway. There's still a bit of traffic, but I think it's faster. I have the cab drop me off at the main entrance to the hospital. Now I just have to figure out where exactly the pediatrics department is.
A friendly woman at the front desk gives me directions, and I follow them as best I can through a maze of hallways and a couple of elevators. I know that I've found the right place when the elevator doors open and there's a giant bulletin board filled with children's drawings right in front of the door.
It's still very maze-like, but I find my way to a nurse’s station. "Hi," I say to the woman dressed in pale pink scrubs. "I'm looking for Dr. Carlisle."
"Are you the mother of a patient?" she asks.
"No," I say, blushing despite the fact that I have no reason. "I'm...uhhh...I brought him dinner."
She smiles then. "Oh you must be the girlfriend. I'll page him for you."
The girlfriend. He's already told people about me? Something about that gives me a little twinge of happiness. She speaks into the phone, paging him to the nurse’s station and I wait, biting my lip with nervousness.
He comes around the corner, and damn, scrubs are a good look for him. He could be a doctor from a TV medical drama with how hot he looks. The dark blue sets off his tan skin and blue eyes. It takes him a second to see me, but when he does, he breaks into a huge smile. "What are you doing here?"
"I brought you food," I say.
Adams eyes go wide. "Seriously?"
"Seriously."
He laughs, pulling me in for a quick kiss. "You're a lifesaver. Now I don't have to eat from the vending machine."
"You guys don't have a cafeteria?" I ask as he takes my hand and guides us away from the nursing station.
"We do, but trust me, you don't want to eat there. I do it as little as possible. But we'll go there now, cause it's the easiest place to eat."
I squeeze his hand. "I'm not interrupting anything?"
"You actually came at a really good time. Visiting hours are almost over and I have to do my rounds in a little while. But I can play hooky for a while."
"I'm glad," I say. "I was nervous you wouldn't be happy with me just showing up. But I wanted to see you."
Adam lets go of my hand, instead wrapping his arm around my hips as we walk. "This was an amazing surprise. I haven't been able to get you out of my head, and I'm sorry I haven't been able to text."
We take a set of stairs down one floor and through a set of double doors to a sterile white room filled with tables and chairs and a really depressing looking food line. "So what are we having?" he asks as we grab a table off to the side.
I hand him the bag. "I didn't know what you liked, so I thought that pasta was a safe bet."
He sticks his face in the bag and groans. "It's an amazing bet. I love Italian and this smells fucking amazing. Thank you."
I help him get the take-out containers out of the bag and he steps away from the table to grab some plates and silverware. "Where on earth did you get this?" he asks. "It's really good."
I tell him about my unicorn Italian place and I think I may have a new convert on my hands.
"I wonder if I tip them really well if they'll deliver up here," he says.
"Never know unless you try. And if they don't, I can sometimes be your delivery service."
Adam smiles. "I'd like that."
"How are things here?"
His face falls a bit. "They've been a bit crazy. We had some transfer cases that have all hands on deck. Just some really sick kids. We're doing everything we can, but it's touch and go at the moment."
I reach across the table and take his hand. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's not your fault. But we've all been running around a little more than normal. Which is why I haven't texted. I wanted to."
I shake my head. "Don't worry, I get it."
"As soon as I get out of here on Thursday I want to take you out."
"You're done with your shifts then?"
He nods, taking another bite of spaghetti and sauce. "Yes, and if you're not sick of it, I have an Italian restaurant of my own that I'd love to take you to."
"Which one?"
"Del Posto."
I try to keep my mouth from falling open. Del Posto is an amazing restaurant in lower Manhattan near the river. I've know it's amazing because it's expensive and exclusive.
Adam smiles when he sees my face. "What?"
"You can get into Del Posto?"
"Sure."
I shake my head. "That's...insane."
"But you want to go?"
"Yes, of course I want to go!" I say it a little too loudly and suddenly I'm looking around to make sure I didn't startle any sick people. "I can't believe that's where you want to take me. It's going to be way better than this," I gesture to our food.
"Seriously, Ollie," he says, "this is amazing. You saved me from having Cheez-Its for dinner."
I smile. "Okay."
"Come visit me whenever you want. I can't promise that I'll be free, but I'll always try to come say hi." He lowers his voice, "And if I have time, there's more than that I'll do."