“My roommate threatened to cook,” I say. “I figured the risk was worth it.”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “Brave.”
“I’m hoping wine willsoften the blow.”
His expression shifts. A flicker of interest crosses his face.
“Do you have a favorite?” he asks casually.
I glance at him, surprised. “Wine?”
“Mmhmm.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I like things that take time. The kind you don’t rush.”
His eyes hold mine. “Me too.”
The moment stretches—too long, too charged.
A nurse calls his name from down the hall, breaking the spell.
“Enjoy your dinner and wine. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says before he disappears.
“So”—Kayla looks at me as I chew— “what do you think?”
I swallow slowly, then take a sip of my wine—a Chianti from 2018, which was known for a great rainfall and produced incredible grapes in Italy. The wine goes down smoothly. The lasagna, not so much.
“It’s pretty good.” I smile and take another gulp of wine.
“Don’t lie.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s terrible.”
“No, no. Not terrible. The pasta is a little chewy. But the cheese and sauce are good.”
Kayla watches me for a moment as I chew, her head tilted slightly to the side.
“So,” she says, dragging the word out, “either this Chianti is stronger than advertised or you’re doing that thing where you pretend to focus on food, so you don’t have to talk about what’s actually going on.”
I glance up at her. “I’m tired.”
She snorts. “You’re always tired. This is different. This is … existential pasta chewing. And before you even go there, my pasta isn’tthatdamn chewy.”
I take another sip of wine, letting it linger. “It’s been a long day.”
“Hmm,” she hums, unconvinced. Then her eyes sharpen a little. “Hospital guy.”
My fork pauses midair. “What hospital guy?”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. Tall. Intense. Looks like he hasn’t slept properly in years and definitely owns more than one expensive coat. The one who was practically burning holes through you with his eyes at the bar.”
I set my fork down slowly. “He’s my boss.”
Kayla grins. “You say that like it’s a deterrent.”
“It is a deterrent,” I say quickly. “And it’s not like that.”
Her eyebrow arches. “You didn’t say it wasn’t mutual.”
I exhale, my gaze dropping to the table. “I shouldn’t even be thinking about it.”