Page 40 of Doctor Hot Mess

“Probably?” I tease, leaning back in my chair and meeting his gaze head-on. “You definitely deserved it.”

He chuckles softly, but the sound fades quickly, leaving us in a quieter moment. His eyes hold mine, steady and serious, and the banter feels like it’s shifted into something deeper without either of us realizing it.

“You know,” I say, my voice softening, “you don’t have to keep trying to prove you’re sorry. I get it.”

“I’m not trying to prove anything,” he replies, his voice low but steady. “I just don’t want to screw this up again.”

I don’t know what to say to that. It’s the closest Jonah’s come to being truly vulnerable, and it’s disarming. I set my glass down on the small table between us, my fingers suddenly unsteady.

“Jonah,” I start, my voice soft but firm, “you don’t have to?—”

“I do,” he cuts in, his eyes locking onto mine. “You deserve to hear it. I was an idiot, Harper. You’ve always been more to me than I probably even realized back then. And now? I just?—”

His words falter, and before I fully register it, he’s leaning in. Slowly, tentatively, like he’s waiting for me to stop him. But I don’t. I stay rooted to my spot, drawn in by something I can’t quite explain—something in the quiet intensity of his gaze, in the way the tension between us feels charged but not overwhelming. The world around us fades into the background, leaving just us and the unspoken question hanging in the air.

Our lips meet softly at first, testing the waters, but the moment stretches, deepens. His hand comes up to cradle my jaw, his thumb brushing against my cheek, and I’m lost in the warmth of him, the sheer weight of everything that’s been building between us.

But just as the heat starts to coil low in my stomach, my brain kicks in, loud and insistent. I pull back slightly, breaking the kiss but staying close enough to feel his breath against my lips.

“We shouldn’t,” I whisper, pulling back just enough to force some air between us, though my heart is still racing.

Jonah’s hands hover near my waist. His eyes are fixed on mine, searching for something. For a moment, he doesn’t speak, like he’s trying to sort through the chaos in his head. Finally, he exhales, and his rough voice cracks. “I don’t know how to handle this, Harper. I just know I don’t want it to stop.”

There’s something raw in the way he says it, and it makes me hesitate. Not because I don’t believe him, but because I do.

I shake my head slightly, trying to keep myself grounded. “Jonah, I can’t make the same mistake twice. We’re finally rebuilding our friendship, and I can’t risk losing that again.”

He blows out sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “I screwed up, Harper. I know that. I said the wrong things, did the wrong things… hell, I’ve made a career out of screwing things up with people who matter.”

I glance back at him, his frustration mirrored in his expression, and for a second, the weight of his words settles between us like a challenge neither of us knows how to meet.

“I should go,” I say finally, stepping back.

“Harper—” His voice is soft, almost pleading, but he doesn’t stop me.

I grab my bag and head for the door as my pulse hammers in my ears. The silence between us is louder than anything he could’ve said. Staying here, in this moment, is no longer possible.

I told myself I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice and wouldn’t let myself fall into something that would only end with us losing the fragile ground we’ve just started to rebuild. Jonah might think he means those words—might even believe them in the moment—but that doesn’t erase the risk of history repeating itself.

FIFTEEN

Jonah

Sunday, March 1

4:31 AM

I settleonto Harper's couch, the events of the day weighing heavily on my mind. The wine glass in my hand is a welcome distraction as I take a long sip, savoring the rich flavor. Harper sits close beside me, her presence both comforting and electrifying.

"Remember that time we snuck into the hospital roof garden after our shifts?" I ask, a smile playing at my lips.

Harper's eyes light up. "How could I forget? You nearly gave us away with your clumsy fumbling at the door."

"Hey now," I protest, laughing. "I'll have you know my surgical skills have improved since then."

"I should hope so," she teases, nudging my shoulder playfully.

Our laughter fades, leaving a charged silence in its wake. My gaze drifts to Harper's lips, full and inviting. She notices, her eyes meeting mine with an intensity that steals my breath.

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