Chapter 20
Tim’s POV
I hurry back to the hospital, a new energy coursing through me, my mood brighter than it’s been in days. Seeing Brielle-seeing her glow, her confidence-it does something to me, like a jolt of electricity. She’s changed, in ways that make her look stronger, more alive. Images flash in my mind, unbidden, of her beneath me, of stripping away every layer until there’s nothing left but her-a raw, beautiful force I can’t resist. The temptation feels visceral.
“Morning, Doctor. You must have had yourself a good night,” Davoren says, catching me as I’m rushing to my office. The comment startles me. Why would he say that? Davoren’s one of the anesthesiologists, quick with a quip, and while I suspect he may swing the other way, I’d never ask. I mean, what does it matter anyway? His skill in the OR is unparalleled, and we get along well enough. The guy’s funny-but not my type. Women have always been my preference, their softness, their curves, the way they fit against me at night.
On my rounds, two patients get discharged. Both men, both lucky to have someone at home to help them recover. Here’s the problem, though: with heart patients like these, they often think surgery is the end of their troubles-that life can return to what it was before. It’s never that simple. They need to overhaul everything-their diet, their habits. Take the last one; what he really needs now is exercise. But too often, especially with the older guys, change doesn’t stick. They fall back into the same routines that got them here in the first place, like they’re incapable-or worse, unwilling-to change.
I hate to see it. You give someone a chance at a better life, and they toss it aside. Not all, of course. Women tend to take mortality more seriously, or maybe it’s the men in their lives who push them to change. Losing a spouse, their rock-it scares them into action. Men, on the other hand, resist. They hate being nagged, hate being pushed. It’s maddening, but what can I do? I patch them up, give them the tools they need, and hope they figure out the rest.
Today, I’ve got three surgeries lined up. Two are CABGS-coronary artery bypass grafts-and the third? It’s a child born with a heart defect. We patched the hole while he was still in the womb, but now it’s time for a full repair. His arteries need fixing, too. How he’s managed to hang on this long amazes me. The kid’s a fighter, no doubt.
The day blurs by. Davoren’s assisting, chatting about his weekend plans, and I realize for the first time in months-I’m not on call. With three other doctors on staff, we’re able to share the load. It’s a relief, knowing I’ll actually have a weekend off. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll spend it with Brielle. The thought sticks with me, carrying me through the hours.
The little boy’s surgery is a triumph. Better than I’d hoped. He’s tough, stronger than I expected, and it feels good wrapping up the day without a single loss. Most of my patients come to me teetering on the edge, clinging to life by a hair. They want miracles, and if I’m lucky, I can give them that. But more often, it’s just enough to keep them hanging on for another chance.
All day, I’ve been smiling, and apparently, everyone’s noticed. Nurses whisper in the halls, speculating about my mood. One thinks I got laid last night; another defends me, insisting I’m always cheerful. The attention bugs me, but I let it slide. Let them guess-it keeps them from getting too close.
By six, I’m home. Early, for once, and the relief settles in my bones. As a heart surgeon, I know all the risks-know I should follow the same advice I give my patients. Work-life balance, proper meals, a break every now and then. I should live by those words, but it’s easier said than done.
11:08
15.09%
After a quick shower, I throw on jeans and a T-shirt. Then, without hesitation, I head to Brielle’s place. Approaching her door, the aroma of something rich and garlicky hits me. My stomach growls loud enough to remind me I barely snuck in time for a sandwich earlier. Coffee carried me through much of the day, but I know something’s got to give. If I don’t fix my schedule soon, I’ll end up on the surgical table myself.
For a moment, I hesitate outside her door, second-guessing whether I should knock. I laugh at myself -why now? I’ve never knocked before. Since she moved in, I’ve felt bold enough just to walk in, unlike with the previous tenant. That woman was angling for a wealthy catch, and I made it a point to stay off her radar.
Brielle’s different. When I burst into her place, she doesn’t scold me. She gives me grief, sure, teasing me about proper manners-not barging into a woman’s home unannounced. “I might be in pajamas,” she’d said once, cheeks pinkening when I joked about the bonus that would be for me. She dropped the subject after that, but her blush was unforgettable.
Standing there, I feel the tension building in me. Just thinking about her stirs something deeper, something primal. How is it she’s under my skin already? If I talked to my mother, she’d probably chalk it up to me meeting her at a vulnerable moment-her needing a knight in shining armor, me eager to play the part. My sisters, well, they’d say the same, but with more bite.
Drawing a breath, I try to steady myself, then reach for the handle. It’s unlocked. Relief floods me as I step inside, the scent of garlic even stronger now. Spaghetti, maybe? Something Italian for sure. Soft music floats through the air, and the curtains billow as the breeze slips in through the open balcony door. The scene feels intimate, romantic-even if it’s just wishful thinking on my part.
And then-she steps through the balcony door, bathed in moonlight. Shorts, a simple T-shirt, bare feet -and a smile that stops my heart cold. The moon behind her, perfectly framed, like it’s conspiring to make her glow. Angelic doesn’t begin to cover it. Brielle looks ethereal, unreal. Gone are the barriers I’d built, those walls I clung to. I don’t want dinner; I want her. I want her so badly it hurts.
Her hair’s shorter now, curling at the ends. I loved the way it was before, but this-this suits her. Sexy in an entirely new way. She’s so breathtaking, my desire sharpens, unbearable but undeniable.
