Page 9 of Doctor Hot Mess

FOUR

Harper

Wednesday, February 4

The Essential

2018 Morris Avenue, Birmingham

9:47AM

The morning sunstreams through the coffee shop windows, making the last dregs of my latte look a little like pluff mud at low tide. I yawn and stretch, feeling the exhaustion from last night’s shift pulling at me like a weighted blanket.

My phone dings as it sits on the table beside my mug. I glance at it to see a text from my best friend, Mason.

Babe, brunch. Now. Don’t make me come find you.

I smile and roll my eyes, typing back quickly.

I’m already here, nerd. Where are you? I got us your favorite window seat. Hurry before I fall asleep.

Within moments, Mason breezes in. As are all of his entrances, it is accompanied by a whirlwind of patterned silk and expensive cologne. His hair is perfectly styled without a strand out of place, and he’s wearing sunglasses big enough to qualify as a disguise.

“Thank God you look as tired as I feel,” he says, sliding into the chair across from me. “Misery loves company, darling.”

“Misery should try working a double shift in the ER,” I reply, pushing my empty mug aside. “Pretty sure I aged five years last night. Welcome back to Birmingham, right?”

He snorts, taking off his sunglasses and setting them carefully on the table. “Please, you thrive on chaos. Tell me everything about everyone. I'm certain you got some good juice first night back on the floor.”

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “Let’s see. There was a gun, a bleeding teenager, and Jonah Bellinger swooping in like some kind of unflappable superhero. That about covers it.”

Mason freezes mid-reach for the menu, and his eyes narrow. “Jonah Bellinger? As intheJonah? Tall cup of tattooed deliciousness and emotionally unavailable Jonah?”

I grimace. “Do you know another Jonah that works at UAB?”

Mason leans back dramatically, his hand over his heart. “I had to be dramatic because I figured you'd have a run-in with him. I guess I just wasn't prepared yet. So, tell me— is he still as hot and uncommitted as ever?”

“Hot, yes,” I say, laughing softly as I pick at the edge of my napkin. “And judging by the lack of a ring, I’d say his dating habits haven’t changed much either. But we didn’t go there, so I can’t say for sure.”

Mason arches an eyebrow as his lips curve into a smirk. “Well, he’s obvi just waiting for you.”

“No, thank you,” I say quickly, shaking my head. "Been there, done that."

He studies me for a moment, the smirk fading into something softer. “You’re really not hoping you can turn him into a monogamous boy toy? No lingering feelings for Mr. Hot Mess?”

I roll my eyes. “There’s nothing to be over, Mason. We’re friends. That’s it. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I..."

Mason bursts out laughing, drawing the attention of a couple at the next table. “When you snacked on that wedding cake of a man,” he finishes for me.

"You're disgusting."

"Oh my God, you totallydid!” he says, practically cackling. “You knew he was frosted on the outside but stale in the middle, and you still took a bite. Harper, babe, no one blames you for trying. There are a long line of women, and probably a few men, who dreamed of being Mrs. Jonah Bellinger.”

I shrug, brushing crumbs off my fingers. “Maybe for half a second. But hey, I’m human. I made a choice, and it didn’t pan out. No harm, no foul.”

Mason sobers slightly, his tone softening. “Just don’t forget how far you’ve come. You’re way too good for someone who is Peter Pan when it comes to romance.”

“I’m not forgetting,” I say firmly, meeting his gaze. “That’s why I left Birmingham in the first place. And it worked out, didn’t it? I’m here, I’m happy, and I’m not losing sleep over any man.”

---