grated on her. That something inside her sighed at his presence shoved her into the irrational. “I have a job.”
“So do I.” He gripped the bed frame and leaned forward, fully prepared to take her on. “I took a Hippocratic oath to save lives, including yours.”
An oath that he lived and breathed. Always. Just like she lived for her job. She tipped her chin up and held his gaze. “I cannot miss my deadline.”
“It can wait.”
“Easy for you to say,” she said. “You’re walking around, doing your job just fine like always.”
“You’ll be back doing your job soon enough.”
“Not if I miss this deadline.”
“They’ll understand.”
He didn’t understand. She wasn’t supposed to be the patient. She didn’t make mistakes that could cost her her life or those of her best friends. Those pinpricks turned her stomach inside out, stealing her breath. If they’d just let her leave, then perhaps it wasn’t such a big mistake. And her life could return to normal like she wanted. Why did her old life make her hyperventilate now? She loved the life she’d built with her father.
Wyatt tilted his head and studied her. “Are you afraid to be here?”
“Of course I don’t want to be here.” Not with Wyatt close enough to touch, but so far out of her reach. But that was all wrong. She wanted discharge papers, her old life back more than she’d ever wanted Wyatt. She pressed her fist into the bed. “You do know what happens in places like this.”
“Yes, I know what happens in hospitals.” The softness in his voice slid into his gaze, tempering the cool sleet color. “We save lives.”
“Or not.” She scowled at the fragile crack in her voice and blamed Wyatt for making her weak.
Wyatt walked around to her side and lifted his arm toward her.
Everything in Mia stilled. The air in her lungs, her pulse, all of her waited and wished.
He made a midcourse correction to adjust her IV line, denying her his touch. “I’m really sorry about your dad.”
Mia buried her arm under the covers. She didn’t need his support. She’d never needed that. She’d handle her grief like she handled everything else: on her own terms. Besides, it was his fault she was there. Not entirely, she admitted, but she needed someone to blame to keep her sanity. Otherwise she might crumble beneath the ramifications of her accident. “Why are you here?”
“I work downstairs in the ER.”
“I know that.” She tugged on the blankets, refusing to look at him. “Why are you up here?”
“My mother is down the hall, recovering from a second hip replacement.”
That brought her focus to him. “I’m not your mother.”
“I’ve noticed.” The laughter in his voice melted into his smile.
And ping-ponged something warm through her like the first sip of homemade hot chocolate. She remembered that comforting feeling from their time together. But she hadn’t missed him. She’d chosen to leave and live her life. “Why are you in my room specifically? I’m not your patient.” His name wasn’t on her information board. She was thankful for that, wasn’t she?
“I can’t check up on a friend?” he asked.
“Is that what we are?”
“Unless you prefer another definition for our relationship.”
They had no relationship. Wasn’t that the point? “We haven’t spoken in twenty-six months.”
“That’s rather exact,” he said.
“Yet true,” she said.
“I promised Eddy I’d check on you.”
“Eddy was here?” Relief rushed through her. Nothing had happened to Eddy. Her friend hadn’t suffered because of her error.
“Eddy, Frank and Shane have all been here.” His eyebrows pulled together, highlighting his perplexed voice. “Your crew still follows wherever you lead.”
“They work with me because they want to,” she said. Unlike Wyatt, who’d never follow. He’d wanted to be with her, too, at one time. But only on his terms. And those were terms she would never accept. She crammed her pillow behind her head. “Well, you’ve checked up on me. Dr. Hensen told me to sleep and let my body heal. Could you dim the lights on your way out?”
“I’ll be back.” There was a hint of warning in his tone.
With any luck, she’d be asleep. Mia closed her eyes, shutting him out and severing her awareness of him as anything more than a doctor. Wyatt Reid was a doctor first and always, same as she was a filmmaker first and always.
“If you need me, the nurses know how to find me,” he added before the lights dimmed and silence rushed through the room.
Mia wanted to stuff the pillow over her face and scream. That would no doubt get her another specialist for her care team and a psychological evaluation. There had to be at least ten hospitals in San Francisco, and she’d ended up at the one where Wyatt Reid worked. Not even fate could’ve conjured that twist.
THE DOOR TO Mia’s room clicked shut, soft and quiet, despite Wyatt’s tight grip on the steel handle. Slamming the door might’ve satisfied him, but he doubted that would be enough to disrupt Mia’s determination to greet her father in the afterlife. Stubborn woman couldn’t see past her current deadline. She’d almost died. Died.
Yet she railed at him for admitting her as if the entire incident was his fault. As if he prevented her from finishing her precious film. Had she learned nothing from her father’s death? She’d brushed off his condolences about her dad like a decade-long chain-smoker given a pamphlet on how to quit.
Still he’d treat her like any other patient, the same as he’d declined to make an exception for his mother. He refused to lose his objectivity only to have them suffer for his misstep. Emotional lockdown was the only prudent course of action. Not that he had to worry with his mom. However, Mia triggered something inside him, something that rattled that lock and disturbed his composure. He simply had to regulate his neurological response to Mia with more precision and resist any urge to be more than a doctor who knew what she needed even if she didn’t. It was past time Mia slowed down, reassessed and grieved.
Of course, knowing what was best for someone didn’t guarantee the person’s agreement or cooperation. That much he learned every day with his mother. He seemed to be surrounded by difficult women. Good thing he’d never walked away from a challenge.
Wyatt slowed at the nurses’ station and met Nettie’s gaze, waiting for the charge nurse’s signal. Wyatt believed in gathering as much information as possible before any confrontation, and when it came to his
