Ace sits forward so fast a bit of beer sloshes out of his can and onto his fingers. "She? Like she? The one who must not be named?"
Yes, my best friend and I liken Autumn Cummings to Voldemort. It was fitting considering she nearly killed me from heartache.
I run two fingers under my chin and nod. Just saying it out loud makes me want a drink. Lucky for me, Ace thought ahead. I take a long pull and swallow.
"To help with her mom?" he asks.
"Yeah."
"And to see you?"
I snort. "Hardly. She can't stand me. Let's just say we should make sure there aren't any sharp objects nearby when she and I are in the same room together."
My best friend’s face turns serious. "So, you've already seen her?"
I nod. "That's where I was coming from when I called you." I sigh. "She hates me."
"No offense, Owen, but she has a pretty good reason." Ace has never been one to mince his words. I like that about him.
I shake my head, rubbing my forehead as shame creeps over me. "I know."
I still grimace when I mentally replay some of the things I said to her that night. Ace was with me that day. He made the long drive out to Santa Clara with me where Autumn was going to college. At the time, we were roommates at University of Arizona. We barely knew each other, but Ace was up for a road trip, and I was too blinded by immature anger to care about who came along to watch me self-destruct and clip the tenuous ties that still held Autumn and I together.
But she hurt me too. After everything we went through, she just fucking ghosted me. Didn’t answer my calls, returned all of my letters, deleted my emails. It’s like she died and I was left with no closure and an apology that never got to leave my lips.
“I thought I was going to marry her,” I say, taking another chug of my beer.
Ace claps me on the back. “There’s your problem … you believe in marriage.”
That causes a grin to pull at my lips. “You’re going to be a sixty-year-old spinster with two girlfriends and half a dozen illegitimate children.”
We both chuckle over that, but then Ace’s face takes on a serious look.
"Do you want to turn Faith's care over to me?" he asks out of nowhere.
My surprise is evident in my face. "Why would I do that?"
No fucking way. Faith is my patient and I will get her well again. I’ve done it before, and I won’t let personal shit get in the way.
"Gee, I don't know," he says in a tone that tells me I should most definitely already know. "Conflict of interest?"
"It's always been a conflict of interest." This is a smallish town; every patient is a conflict of interest to some degree.
"Right, but now it's a front-line conflict. In a major way. Your patient's closest family wants to grind you into hamburger meat. Do you think that could affect Faith's care? Emotions fuck shit up, man. You know that."
I shake my head. And here I was calling Autumn the stubborn one. I know Ace is right. There is a conflict of interest and emotions do fuck shit up. But I didn’t have any conflicting emotions with Faith. I wouldn’t hesitate to make good medical decisions where she was concerned.
Both these things have existed for years; they just haven't been a problem until now. If they even will be at all. I can deal with Autumn, explain to her that she and I need to figure out how to be adults and get along, and as for the emotions part, well, there is no dealing with that. I have to be the one treating Faith, because I need to know I've exhausted every possibility, gone down every path, left no stone unturned. I'll never forgive myself if I don't, and part of that is being the person in charge of her care.
Ace stands, taking the basketball I brought from its spot underneath the bench. "You ready to play?" He tosses his empty beer can back in the bag.
I drain the rest of mine and do the same.
"I'm going to kick your ass," I inform him, just as he throws the ball at my chest. I wasn't expecting the pass and I end up grunting before barely catching it.
He scoffs. "You've never beaten me, asshole."
"Sure," I say, passing the ball back to him. "But there's a first time for everything."
Ace laughs, then proceeds to hand my ass to me. Figures.
I can't catch a fucking break today.
"Coming," I yell at the front door.
I'd just finished dressing when the knock sounded. Early in the morning, I wasn't expecting anybody, which actually told me who it probably was. There's only one person with a habit of showing up unannounced, and now that she's done it so often, it's become her calling card.
"Hey," I answer, opening the door. I was right.
"Hey," Naomi grins, a smile sliding out one side of her mouth. "I just finished my shift and I'm not ready to go to sleep."
She steps inside, not waiting for me to respond. Naomi works nights in the emergency room at the hospital. She's a great doctor and funny as hell. After a couple months as friends, things progressed, and pretty soon we were sleeping together. It's never moved beyond using one another to scratch our itches though.
Normally I'd have no second thought about leading her back to my bedroom. It's a route we've walked dozens of times. But today something is different, and I'm not sure what it is. Or maybe I know exactly what it is, and it drives me insane.
"I'm running late, Naomi. Can we take a raincheck?"
"C'mon, Owen. It doesn't have to take long." She steps into me and I smell her shampoo, her damp hair brushing my cheek. She's ready. She stopped at home and showered, and instead of dropping into bed after a night-long shift, she drove over here. Naomi is good in bed; she knows everything I like and it would be easy to just jump into the bedroom with her real quick.
She pushes her hand against the front of my pants, her fingers curling over me.
It might be nice to fuck Autumn out of my thoughts…
Naomi leans in, brushing her breasts against my chest, a low moan rumbling in her throat.
I swallow hard, fighting biology and my second brain, and step away from her. I’m an emotional wreck after seeing Autumn, and although Naomi and I don’t have a serious relationship, I can’t bring myself to get involved with her right now.
I offer her a disappointed smile. "I really need to get going."
There is hurt in her eyes. We both know I'm not late for work. She knows what time I'm due at the hospital.
It's the first time I've ever turned her down, and I feel the shift in the air between us.
"Another time, then," she says, plastering a fake, bright smile on her face, and yanks her hand from my pants. She pivots, pulls open the door, and steps back through it. "Have a good shift, Owen."
I’m an idiot. What normal guy turns down casual sex? Ace would have a heart attack if I told him.
I stay in the door and watch her go. Naomi and I were never going to be serious, so why did I just fuck up a good thing? All because a certain brunette blew back into town and reminded me of the mess we made, the mess that's been simmering undisturbed for years, always waiting for the time when we would be forced to give it the attention it's been waiting so patiently for.