Page 66 of Take Me to the Wedding

He held it out to me. I took some from his straw.

Suddenly my autonomic nervous system went off the rails again. My hands were shaking, and I felt warm—too warm—all over. I could feel my heartbeat thumping in my ears. Why did drinking from the same straw feel kind of… intimate?

“Oh, I almost forgot.” I pulled a permanent black marker out of my back jeans shorts pocket. “You can have everybody sign your cast before we leave.”

He pointed to it. “You be the first.”

“Oh. Sure.” Somehow I wasn’t expecting that. As I turned and leaned over his leg, some impulse grabbed me to make my signature memorable. Before I could think about what I was doing. I wrote Sam in cursive, right at the base of his cast near his toes, my signature ending in a giant curlicue with a heart inside. Then I colored in the heart.

As I sat back, remorse promptly kicked in. The heart was a big, feminine touch in a place where he—and everyone else, for that matter—would be sure to see it. What had I been thinking?

As I sat back, he assessed my handiwork and wiggled his toes, clearly unbothered by those kinds of thoughts. “Nice,” he said.

We ate for a few minutes in companionable silence. “I better stop eating your fries,” I pushed the remainder toward him.

“I like it when you eat my fries,” he said. “What I mean is, I like sharing my food with you.”

I changed the subject. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

“At least now I don’t have hunger pain on top of the other pain.” He’d devoured the burger in no time. Balling up a napkin and tossing it into the bag, he said, “Thanks for the food. Can I say something about today?”

“Depends on which part of today.” Hopefully not the Lilly part.

“Thanks for what you did—it was good to have company on that ledge. You were calm and levelheaded. But then that’s how you are in the OR too.”

“Well, I guess I wouldn’t be an anesthesiologist if I wasn’t.” I flicked my gaze up at him. “And you’re welcome.”

More awkward silence.

I didn’t want to, but I guess I needed to ask about Lilly. I wanted to know what had happened, why she’d suddenly seemed so into him now.

I rubbed my forehead. Jealousy of Lilly, the shakes when I tried to eat or drink, not eating at all while he was gone because I was upset—all this was adding up to something that I didn’t want to admit to myself.

I hated how I felt around him—giddy and excited and fluttery. I hated that I loved how his face had lit up when I’d walked in, and thatIwas the one—not Lilly—who’d figured out what he wanted.

Anesthesiologists had kahunas. Why did I keep forgetting mine?

He was right that I never took risks with my personal life.

I decided to grow some. And take a risk now. “I’m not sorry we kissed,” I said firmly. “But—are you? I mean, were you delirious and didn’t mean it? Because if you didn’t, I need to know that right now, before this goes any furth?—”

He grabbed my hand and held it. “I wasn’t delirious.” He smiled and rubbed his thumb inside my palm, something that made me even more giddy. “I told Lilly I was glad we were friends—twice. I hope she got the hint.”

Oh joy. Relief flooded through me. I blew out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

He still chose me, even on solid, safe ground.

I felt safe and solid with him. I didn’t doubt what he said. Iknewhe didn’t love Lilly anymore. I knew he wanted a chance with me.

He kept hold of my hand, his solid and warm and a little rough. “I know all this with Lilly has been… a lot,” he said. “But I want you to know that I was serious about everything that I said on that cliff. And while I loved the life-and-death kisses, I wondered if you might go out with me on a real everyday-life date when we get home?”

I thought that was really sweet. I respected that he wasn’t just rushing to kiss me again. That he wanted to make it official.

“I’ll have to check my calendar.” I pulled out my phone and pretended to check. “I’m free Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.”

Caleb oddly didn’t laugh at my antics. Suddenly he released my hand. I became aware that he was examining me—my entire face, specifically, with a puzzled expression.

“What is it?” I brought my hands up to my face, which felt flushed. At first I thought I was just revealing all my embarrassing feelings. But then I realized my face was not just warm but also a little bumpy.

---