Page 14 of Doctor Hot Mess

Harper follows the transport team out, her steps brisk and purposeful, still without a glance in my direction.

I stand there for a moment, letting the stillness of the bay soak in after the adrenaline rush. This is what I do and where I’m at my best—leading in the chaos, keeping everyone steady. But experiencing Harper avoiding me, even if she was supreme in her role, bites. That’s new. And it sticks like a splinter I can’t dig out.

I’m halfway through reviewing a chart when I see her again. Harper. My heart drops into my stomach. What the fuck, why is my body reacting like this?

She’s standing near the nurse’s station, deep in conversation with someone I don’t recognize. Her hair’s pulled back, and she somehow even makes scrubs look sexy. She glances up just for a second, and our eyes meet.

But then, just as quickly, she looks away.

Cold shoulder. No smile. No wave. Nothing.

It shouldn’t sting, but it does. We’ve been friends for years—bantering, leaning on each other through the madness of what working in the emergency room brings—and now she won’t even acknowledge me. I push down the irritation bubbling in my chest and return to my chart.

By the time my shift ends, the weight of her dismissal has turned into a dull ache I can’t shake. I grab a coffee and head to the staff lounge, hoping for a minute to decompress. Instead, I find Carly sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

There is never decompression when Carly is around. Fuck.

“Jonah,” she says without looking up. “Here to bless us with your charm and dazzling wit?”

“Always,” I say, flopping onto the chair across from her. “Except it’s not working on Harper Gray, so it seems.”

That gets her attention. She raises an eyebrow and sets her phone down. “Oh, this should be good. Do we have a little hospital drama?”

I shrug, leaning back in the chair. “No drama. She's just changed since she moved.”

"Yeah, y'all were good buddies, weren't you?"

"I thought so. Anyway, never mind. It's just on my mind, but I'll brush it off."

“What did you do?” Carly asks, crossing her arms. “I saw y'all getting coffee the other night upstairs. Something must have happened.”

“Why do you assume it’s something I did?” I shoot back, though the defensiveness in my tone is a dead giveaway.

Carly snorts. “Because I know you, Jonah. So, what is it? Did you flirt with her? Ghost her? Accidentally call her by the wrong name in bed?”

I wince. “It wasn’t anything like that. We had lunch, and I might’ve... made a joke about hooking up again.”

"Wait. Again? Have y'all hooked up?"

"It was a dumb one-night thing before she moved. Nothing significant."

Carly stares at me, unblinking. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“It wasn’t serious!” I say quickly. “It was a joke. I thought she’d laugh.”

Carly groans, rubbing her temples like I’ve just personally offended her. “Jonah, for someone so brilliant in the OR, you are truly an idiot outside of it.”

“Thanks for the glowing review,” I mutter.

She leans forward, her expression shifting from exasperation to something softer. “Look, you and Harper have a complicated history. Whether you think it was a big deal or not, it was to her. And now she’s back, probably expecting you to act like a friend, and instead, you remind her why she left in the first place.”

“I don't think she left because of that,” I protest, my voice quieter now. “She had already talked about taking a travel job.”

Carly shakes her head, and a wry smile tugs at her lips. “Jonah, women don’t just pack up and leave their hometowns and their friends for two years unless something—or someone—gave them a reason. You ever think you might’ve been part of that?”

I blink, genuinely baffled. “Wait, what? Me? No. She’s not at all like that.”

Carly arches an eyebrow. “Not like what? A woman with feelings? Someone who might’ve been pissed when you pulled your usual ‘thanks for the good time, see you never’ move?”

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