Page 8 of Doctor Hot Mess

10:21PM

The rooftop diningarea is quiet this late at night. The city skyline glows faintly beyond the hospital. I lean back in the metal chair, my coffee steaming in front of me, and glance across the table at Harper.

She’s unwrapping a muffin like it owes her money. Her movements are brisk, efficient, and completely unbothered by the fact that we’ve just had the kind of night ER horror stories are made of.

“I gotta say,” I start as I take a sip of coffee, “you really know how to make an entrance. Not even twenty-four hours back at UAB, and you’re already dragging me into hostage situations. Is this your new thing, or were you just trying to make a memorable first impression?”

She looks up, one eyebrow arched, and smirks. “Oh, absolutely. Nothing says ‘Hey, old friend’ like waving a gun around and demanding medical attention.”

“Nice. I see you’re still as much as a smart ass as ever,” I deadpan, and she snorts.

Her laugh catches me off guard for a second. It’s been years, but it sounds the same—sharp and quick, like she’s holding back just enough to make me wonder if I’m funny or if she’s laughingatme.

“You didn’t even give me a heads-up you were back in town,” I say, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table. “I had to figure it out while trying not to get shot. I think you better fess up, little lady. No more holding back.”

She rolls her eyes, breaking off a piece of muffin and popping it in her mouth. “This assignment came through at the last minute. I barely had time to pack a bag, let alone send you a smoke signal. I know you're used to all the ladies throwing themselves at you, but I happen to have a life.”

"Ouch. Coming in hot."

"You know I'm just messing with you. I honestly haven't a minute to breathe. It's good to see you. Like a fine wine, you keep getting better with time."

“Oh, cheesy lines aren't your thing. You've got better than that.”

“I mean it. You look good,” she says with a little less sarcasm than is her norm.

"You, too. It was a nice surprise to get your text that you were at the hospital. I just had no idea what I was walking into."

“That’s why I made sure to schedule our reunion during an active crisis. Very dramatic. Very on-brand for us.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Touché.”

“So how’d you get roped into that mess anyway?”

Her smile fades slightly, replaced by a more thoughtful expression. She sets the muffin down, brushing crumbs from her fingers. “I was cleaning up the table from my last triage when the guy rolled in, pushing his brother in a wheelchair. The kid was bleeding everywhere. I'm not sure how he got past the front desk, but he grabbed me because I was the first person he saw. Lucky me.”

I watch her carefully, trying to read the flicker of something in her eyes—fear, maybe, or adrenaline that hasn’t fully burned out yet. But it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“And you just... went along with it?” I ask, more curious than critical.

“What was I supposed to do?” She shrugs. “The guy was scared out of his mind, and his brother was dying. It wasn’t exactly an ideal situation, but it wasn’t complicated, either. Keep him calm. Keep the kid alive. Simple math.”

“Simple,” I echo dryly. “Sure. Real textbook stuff. Thanks for making me your accomplice.”

“I knew you’d come,” she says simply, meeting my eyes. “No questions, no stalling—you’d just show up and deal with it. And I figured a calm, smart surgeon was my best bet for keeping the situation de-escalated while saving the kid. Clearly, I was right.”

The compliment catches me off guard. Harper’s not the type to throw those around lightly, and it lands heavier than I expect.

“Well,” I say after a minute, letting a slow grin spread across my face, “I’m glad you didn’t settle for justanysurgeon. Imagine how boring this reunion would’ve been.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “God forbid anything about you be boring, Jonah. You’d probably self-destruct out of sheer principle.”

“Guilty as charged.” I raise my coffee cup in a mock toast. “Here’s to the most chaotic reunion of all time.”

She raises her muffin in response, her lips twitching into a smile. “And here’s to the hope that the rest of my time at UAB is a little less... life-threatening.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” I say, leaning back and watching her with a mix of curiosity and something I can’t quite name. She’s changed since the last time I saw her—steadier, sharper somehow—but underneath all of that, she’s still Harper.

Now, to find out if we still have some of those benefits to cash in…

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