Page 14 of Resist Me Not
“His loss.” I turn Walker’s hand, so my thumb strokes over his pulse point. The man at the table has no shortage of insults to throw at the woman, while she is focused on navigating them through this without making a bigger scene. “I can understand wanting to spend more time with you, but I also have an intimate knowledge of careers that don’t allow for much more than once a week visitations. It’s not always ideal, but good relationships are about meeting in the middle, don’t you agree?”
“Yeah.” Walker smiles and sips his drink as he relaxes again. “Definitely.”
“Anyone like that in your life? In the past?”
“You mean like the one who got away? No. I had one serious relationship in undergrad, but long distance did not work onceI moved on to med school. Everything was all about ending up at St. Vincent’s, and if the person I was with couldn’t get that, I couldn’t waste my time on them. I wasted too much on Curtis, who I thought understood. I guess a travel writer has to do long-distance, huh?” His foot bumps mine beneath the table. I am not immediately convinced it’s an accident, but the flush to his face that follows proves it might be.
I bump my foot against his with clearer intent. “Like I said, when I want to end up back somewhere, I find a way.”
The man receives his drink and downs most of it with an angry swig. The waiter brought the check with it and discreetly slips it to the woman.
“You didn’t tell me why St. Vincent’s was so important to you,” I shift gears, sensing Walker doesn’t want to keep focusing on Curtis, which is good. There’s no love lost there. “I’m guessing it’s more than just a good immunology department.”
“They treated me as a kid,” Walker says. “It sort of feels like destiny to pay it forward at the same hospital.”
“Destiny? A man of science believes in fate?”
“Why not? We’re allowed to believe in both—science and the unexplained.”
“By that logic, you were meant to end up with Curtis.” Just as Walker’s nose scrunches in distaste, I continue, “If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t have met.”
His almost sneer turns into a charmed giggle. “Wow. Sayingthisis fate? You’re either a hopeless romantic or a complete sap. Good thing you’re hot.”
I have him smitten, and for however long it lasts, he has me too.
The man downs the rest of his cocktail and barks something too slurred to make out. He roughly pushes his chair back to storm toward the entrance, leaving the woman to pay. She doesin cash, which is a hefty amount, but she waves away any change so she can chase after her burden.
“Hold that thought.” I lift Walker’s hand to my lips and kiss it. “This hot hopeless romantic needs to use the facilities. But next we’re going to visit some lighter topics.” I get up but pause at the side of Walker’s chair to bend down to his ear and whisper, “Like what hot doctors do in their spare time.”
Then I’m gone, hopefully leaving Walker wanting more with my absence, while I hasten after the retreating couple.
The man is stumbling enough to slow his steps, and the pair thankfully chose to use the valet. Since the woman caught up to him and took his arm—much to his reluctance—it’s no huge feat to pickpocket his wallet undetected. I have nearly flawless recollection and memorize the man’s name and address from his ID. Then I return it to the wallet that I promptly let slip from my fingers.
“Excuse me, sir? Did you drop this?” I retrieve the wallet from the floor like a Good Samaritan and hold it out to him when he looks back.
“Hm? Oh, um… thanks,” he grumbles and snatches it back from me.
The woman passes me a tense smile, focused more on getting him out of here without incident.
The real incident in the making is going home with her, but his day will come.
I do not need to use the facilities, but I wait an appropriate amount of time out of view before returning to our table. While I count the minutes, I clandestinely watch Walker waiting on my return. Like a parody of my pickpocketing and fake Good Samaritan act, he enacts the real thing.
A little girl walks by with her family, one hand clinging to Mom. The other hand clutches two small stuffed animals like lifelines she probably doesn’t go anywhere without. One of them,a pink cat—no, bat—no, vampire cat with bat wings—slips to the floor unnoticed.
Walker rescues it. He calls the little girl back and doesn’t just hand it to her but flies it over flapping its wings. He is also waiting to eat, even though the appetizers arrived while I was gone. A genuinely good person amid all the filth is the most pleasant surprise of all.
Waiting until the fourth date to make Walker come undone beneath my touch is going to be a challenge, but I owe him the slow burn payoff I promised. I am going to plan it all perfectly, so he is a stuttering, quivering mess by the end who will be just enough out of breath to need a puff from his inhaler and then will let me take care of him as I bring him down from the heights we’ll ascend to.
He is all smiles when I sit back down.
“Let’s see if the food here holds up to the drinks and hype.” I motion for him to dig in.
It’s a practically perfect evening. The restaurant is a seven, but on my strict 1-10 scale, that’s being generous. Perhaps I am swayed by the company.
By the time I am bringing Walker home—on foot since he lives nearby, like an added temptation from the universe—I have learned quite a bit about him. He doesn’t tell me everything. He is keeping a few shadows close to the chest, but I am confident he will reveal them to me in time.
His parents are alive, and he has a younger sister and brother, but he isn’t especially close with his family. Not estranged but not close. More the text occasionally, see each other at major holidays and big events sort. He doesn’t have close friends either, other than fellow residents. He is so naturally personable, this would surprise me if it wasn’t obvious that he saves his focus for his career, his patients, and those he thinks need him rather than forming relationships for his own sake. He has a herocomplex, but he knows it. Even though he tells himself he can’t save everyone, he takes every loss extra hard.
