Page 4 of You Loved Me Once
Tracy clears her throat. “Great, well, I have a consult I could really use your help on.”
I look down at my watch, hating that it’s so late. Claudia’s surgery went off without a hitch and I was almost excited that I would get out of here early. Tonight is beer dip night at Rich’s, the bar I go to. Usually it’s Martina, my best friend Julie, and myself, but Julie mentioned really needing the night out, and while it’s always the three of us, she may need it to be a duo tonight instead. I was hoping for a little girl time before Westin shows up.
Regardless, there’s no way I’d walk away from Tracy or whatever patient she needs me to help with. Girl time can wait, patients shouldn’t have to. “Of course,” I say even though we all knew I’d never refuse her.
“See you later,” Westin says with a smirk.
Ass. “Maybe.”
We both know he’ll be at my place later, like he always is.
Tracy and I head out and we talk about the mass she found in her patient. She’s the head of OB-GYN and a trusted colleague. She shows me the patient’s file, indicating the area causing her concern. We chat about what I see on the films and how I would proceed if the biopsy results come back as I expect. I operate on a lot more tumors than Tracy does and can usually get a good gauge on them before the pathology reports come in. Since my mom’s death it’s been my life’s mission to eradicate cancer.
I don’t care about anything but finding a cure for cancer and giving people whatever time is possible. Too many people die from this disease, and it blows my mind that we can find cures for the most random things, but for something that has touched everyone I know, we still can’t find the perfect mix.
Come hell or high water, I want to be a part of destroying cancer’s chances of taking one more person from this world. I’ve been a part of formulations, different approaches to radiation and chemo, but nothing has been fast enough or strong enough. It’s frustrating, but it also fuels me.
“Here’s the issue . . .” Tracy explains.
We spend twenty minutes really deconstructing Tracy’s case. The tumor doesn’t look cancerous to me, it seems more like a cyst than a tumor, but I can see where there’s a reason to pause.
“So you think surgery is the best option?” she asks.
“It’s really your only choice. I wouldn’t leave the cyst in there. Plus, if it’s not a cyst the last thing we want is for it to grow. The outer walls of the mass have me a little concerned, but I would be safe rather than sorry.”
She nods. “Thank you. I know you were on your way home, but I appreciate you taking some time to look this over.”
“I’m happy to help.” I get to my feet. It’s been a long day, and I’m beat. Tomorrow starts one of the biggest days of my life and I’d like to be alert. There’s just one more thing I need to do before I can leave, and that’s check on Mrs. Whitley. “We’ll talk tomorrow?”
She nods. “See you then.”
My phone pings with a text message.
Westin: I’m leaving now . . . are you tired or awake?
My teeth brush over my lip and I know exactly what that means.
I shoot off a quick text to Martina and Julie saying I can’t make it and then I reply to Westin.
Me: Awake. Very awake. Give me a few. I have to check on a patient and I’ll meet you there.
Who needs beer dip anyway? There’s another thing I want much more right now.
* * *
I roll over and touch the cool sheets instead of the warm body I was expecting to find. Westin came back to my place after work, right? I swear he did. A whistling noise comes from the bathroom, and I grin.
Yup. He definitely did.
My imagination may be good, but it’s not that vivid. I stretch my sore muscles and rub my eyes with a smile. Waking up with Westin Grant is the cherry on top of my sundae. He’s the constant in my chaotic and unpredictable life.
The bathroom door opens and there stands my longtime—I don’t even know what to call him—wearing nothing but a towel. Water drips from his hair and runs down his chest until it disappears into the towel at his waist.
“You’re up,” he smiles. “I thought I was going to get to wake you this morning.”
“Not today. I don’t think I slept more than an hour anyway.”
“Do you ever?” he chuckles and moves toward me with that look. The look that says he was hoping to get his workout in this morning—with me.
