by J. Saman
“You look nice,” he says as he turns to face me, taking in my outfit. That’s what he always says when he sees me. That I look nice. Is it considered nitpicky if I say I wish he’d use another adjective? Something like pretty or beautiful? It doesn’t even have to be anything spectacular like gorgeous or stunning or exquisite. Dazzling might be a bit much. Especially from a straight male. But I certainly wouldn’t object to it either.
“Thanks, you do too.” That’s my standard response to his standard compliment. That’s what we’ve become. Standard. We go out and grab a drink or dinner, go home to his place or mine, have sex and then either leave or spend the night.
But we never spend the following day together.
One of us typically leaves before breakfast. It’s not even a spoken thing. It just happens.
I’m aware this probably means I don’t love being with him other than for those brief interludes. I don’t get giddy or excited to see him. I don’t get that rush of anticipation. Hell, I had more of that today at the prospect of seeing Finn than I’ve had for Colin in the entire six weeks we’ve been dating.
“What are you drinking tonight?” he asks and I can’t tell if the fact I don’t have a standard drink to go with our standard relationship bothers him or not. I like to mix up my drinks. Sue me.
“Hmmm. How about a margarita on the rocks with no salt?”
He shrugs like I was actually asking for his opinion on my drink choice instead of having him order it. Colin waves down the bartender and as he’s ordering my drink, I glance around the bar, taking it in. It’s pretty here. Kind of girly, with dark red and black furnishings, ornate crystal chandeliers and sconces, and candles on each tabletop. Very romantic.
It’s fairly crowded despite the early–by New York standards–hour for Friday night drinking. Soft hypnotic music floats around, intermingling with the white-noise hum of people talking.
I feel Colin brush my exposed arm and just as I’m turning back to him, to catch what he’s saying, I lock eyes with someone staring at me.
Chapter 5
Gia
It takes me a half second longer than it should to realize it’s Finn staring at me. Probably because he’s dressed in a dark-gray, button-down and jeans and I’m used to seeing him exclusively in scrubs. He looks so unbelievably handsome like this. I mean, he looks hot-as-sin in his scrubs, but this look? Damn. It’s like fantasy hour.
His jaw is lined nicely with that thin layer of stubble which I like so much on him, but hadn’t paid much attention to earlier. And his hair is styled instead of just all over the place. I can’t pull my eyes away from him and he seems to be having the same difficulty with me. There are so many things swirling around those bright-blue eyes of his. Curiosity. Interest. Amusement. Anger. Desire. Yes, that last one is there too. Especially when his eyes dip down to my dress, caressing every inch of me.
Is it hot in here? Am I visibly panting? Holy hell, I’m a ball of lust and all he’s doing is looking at me.
Colin hands me my drink and I take it reflexively, sipping at it while watching Finn watch me. When Colin reaches out and places his hand on the small of my back, on one of the cutouts, Finn’s eyes darken. He looks like he wants to kill Colin and that possessive-jealousy thing he has going on might just be my total undoing.
I want to shake my head. I want to tell him Colin is just a stand-in. But Finn’s words from earlier come crashing back into me. Probably better if we didn't. That has me turning my attention back to Colin. Colin who is smiling at me. Colin who is talking to me about his day. Colin who does not excite me anywhere near as much as the man across the bar does.
It takes all of my concerted effort to keep my focus on Colin. I lose that battle with alarming frequency. And every time I sneak a peek over at Finn, he’s looking at me. Even if he’s talking to someone else. It’s like he knows the exact minute I’m going to glance at him and does the same with me.
When my eyes aren’t on his and his aren’t on mine, I still feel him. Like a pulse. Finn is a constant steady rhythm. Something tangible and alive. Something that’s making me dizzy and excited. It’s addictive. This game we’re playing right now.
Just as I’m finishing my second margarita, and Colin is finishing his third beer, he asks if I want to go somewhere and grab dinner. I don’t. I don’t want to do anything right now other than eye-flirt with Finn. But at the same time, I’m here with Colin and not Finn. And Finn said probably better if we didn't, so I say to him, “Sure, let’s go grab something. Whatever you want,” I finish with, because I feel just a touch guilty I’m openly feasting on another man in front of him.
Colin nods and as he’s getting the bartender’s attention to settle up, I feel someone brush my arm. My head twists around at the connection. The sensation of it so much more than just incidental contact by someone passing by. “Oh, sorry,” Finn says with a sexy smirk, his eyes dancing over me to Colin before they return to mine. Colin isn’t even paying attention.
“That’s alright,” I say, in a husky voice which cannot be helped.
Finn does it again. His fingers rake down the exposed skin of my arm, eliciting gooseflesh and an embarrassing shudder in his wake. When his hand reaches mine, he slips something into my palm, closing my fingers over it and giving me a squeeze. He looks intently into my eyes for a beat and then down at my hand which is still covered with his.
And then he walks away.
Provocative excitement blooms in my chest. Colin is signing the bill so I take the half second I’m afforded and check whatever it is Finn placed in my hand. It’s a note written in neat, very undoctor-like handwriting, which says, "Meet me in the back where the bathrooms are."
“Ready?” Colin asks.
“I...um.” God, I’m a horrible person. “I need to go use the restroom real quick. I’ll meet you outside.”
He nods and plants a small kiss on the corner of my mouth which I barely even register and then saunters off without another word. Moving through the overly congested bar to the back, where there is a long dark hallway which has the bathrooms and staff rooms off of it, I suck in a deep fortifying breath, doing my best to tamp down the seductive thrill threatening to consume me.
Sure enough, Finn is there, his back to me, but when he hears my heels clickety-clack against the hardwoods, he turns around to face me.
“Is he your sort-of?”
“Huh?” I smile, tilting my head at his choice of greeting.
“The guy you’re sort-of dating. The guy you’re not exclusive with?”
I nod up at him. “Yes.”
“Are things still that way with him? Sort of and non-exclusive?”
“Yes.”
He takes a step into me, his hand snaking around my waist until it finds that same spot where Colin’s hand occupied earlier. His fingertips graze the exposed sensitive flesh of my lower back and I shudder again like the helpless fool I am.
That makes Finn smile.
“I don’t like seeing you with him. In fact, I can’t stand it.” My breath catches at his unexpected admission. Lust sears through me. White hot and deliciously painful. “I know I said it’s probably better if we didn't,” he starts, breathing noticeably heavier, his warmth cascading over me, waking every pleasure sensor in my body. “And it would be better that way. For both of us. But I can’t stop thinking about you, Gia.”
I lean into him the way he’s leaning into me. Holy shit do I want this man. I’ve never felt this sort of hunger before and all I want is for Finn to feed it. Cultivate it. Take possession over it and make me his in every possible way.
“Me either,” I tell him, taking another step forward until our bodies are gently pressed together, my hand resting over his very muscular, manly chest.
Oh dear lord, his heart is pounding. Or is that my pulse pressing against him? His cologne cascades over me, becoming all that I can smell, adding to the hypnotic effect he has on me. I want him to kiss me. So go
ddamn bad, I hardly think of anything else but his lips on mine.
“Tell me how to make it stop. I need it to stop.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want it to stop.”
“He’s waiting on you, isn’t he?”
“Yes. But–”
He shakes his head, cutting me off, his eyes growing impossibly grim. Hopeless even.
That desperate look freezes me. Pulls my hand from his chest and makes me take a baffled step back. He invited me back here. He was the one staring sexy stares at me all night.
But he’s not backing down and he’s not taking it back. Take it back, Finn.
I sigh, I’m getting really tired of his hot-and-cold-regret shit. Even now, I can see the conflict raging through him. Feel his indecision. “I want this,” I tell him firmly, going for broke. He shuts me down with yet another a shake of his head, but the agitated fire which grows in his eyes at my words betrays the magnitude of his want. Of his desire.
Leaning down, his nose brushes the space between my neck and shoulder. I shudder again, my hands reaching up to grasp onto his shoulder, finding I suddenly need the support. My heart is racing out of my chest and I know he can feel it. I know he can.
“Finn,” I breathe and he rumbles out a low growl which vibrates into me. My toes curl in my shoes. My eyes roll back in my head. Because his nose is skimming ever so lightly up the column of my neck until it reaches the space just below my ear.
He breathes in deeply, inhaling my fragrance. I moan. “Gia,” he whispers against my heated skin. I grip onto his shoulders, tighter. His nose brushes directly behind my ear as he whispers, “Go back to your sort-of, non-exclusive guy.” His words are stone. Rough and uncompromising. “He’s waiting on you.”
And then he walks away, leaving me alone in this dark hallway, trying to elucidate to myself everything that just happened.
I decide I can’t. I decide there is no comprehending the enigma that is Dr. Finnigan Banner. I decide to take his words about being better if we did not do this, at face value. Even if it sucks and hurts way more than it should at this point.
I leave the bar and find Colin standing on the sidewalk texting something into his phone, a smirk pulling up the corner of his lips. I wonder if it’s another woman, and I realize I don’t care if it is. Which means I need to end this. Regardless of Finn and his mind-fucking ways.
The moment Colin sees me coming, he tucks his phone away in his pocket and smiles. It’s a shame he’s not more of a lot of things and less of others. There’s potential, just no…spark. “Hey,” he says. “Took you long enough.”
Right. This is why I have to end it.
“Colin,” I start and I think he can tell where this is headed just by my tone.
“You’re ending this?”
I nod. “Yeah. It’s just… I’m looking for more, you know? You’re a great guy, but this isn’t working for me anymore.”
He sighs, running a hand through his light brown hair. “Is it because I said I don’t want to be exclusive?”
I shake my head. “That’s not it–”
“I guess I’d be willing to try if that’s really what you want.”
Way to sell it there, big guy. “No. I don’t think I do. We’re just not right for each other.”
Colin looks at me long and hard and then he nods. He gets it. He’s knows I’m right. When you’ve got something special with someone, being with them isn’t a chore. Commitment just comes naturally.
“Okay. Yeah.” He reaches out and gives me a hug and a small peck on my lips. “Thanks for being so cool about it.”
“You too,” I say. “Take care, Colin.”
I don’t wait for him to say anything else to me. I just walk away, back in the direction of my apartment. I’m out of sorts and none of it has to do with Colin. Part of me is tempted to track down Finn’s number and tell him I no longer have a sort of non-exclusive guy. But I won’t.
I know Finn is attracted to me. He’s given every indication he is. Yet something is holding him back. Something is keeping him from moving forward and I instinctively appreciate Colin is not that reason.
Why chase after something which will only get me hurt?
So here I am, all dressed up and nowhere to go on a Friday night. I don’t even have work tomorrow. I call Chloe and she picks up on the first ring like the phone was in her hand and she was waiting for my call. “Gia, my love,” she yells into the phone because wherever she is, it’s noisy as hell. “Where are you? You still out with Colin the douchetard?”
Yeah, Chloe never really liked Colin all that much.
“Nope. I ended it with him just now. Where are you? I need some food and girl chat.”
She laughs loud and rancorous. I think Chloe might be a touch drunk already. “So glad you ditched that one. Come meet us. I’m at The Sevens with Monique.”
“On my way.” I hang up with her, hail down a cab and within ten minutes, I’m joining my grad school friends at one of the hottest restaurants in the city. Well, one of the hottest restaurants people like us can afford. They stand up when I arrive and we hug each other the way girls do.
I never mentioned Finn to Chloe again after that morning at breakfast. There was nothing much to say, really. And right now, I’m glad I had that foresight. Because as I listen to Monique tell me about the guy she’s seeing, I realize the nothingness of Finn Banner will stay tightly locked away. I don’t want people to ask about him. I don’t want Chloe to do her Chloe thing and seek him out or nudge me every time we pass him in the hospital.
I think I want to hide him away and only pull him out for analysis when I’m feeling particularly masochistic and self-destructive.
We order food and more drinks and within fifteen minutes of being here with my girls, both Finn and Colin are forgotten. There are only the men in the restaurant. The ones who we’re blatantly checking out for the sport of it.
“He’s older than me,” Monique says, leaning over in my direction so I can hear her over the vociferous background noise.
I laugh. This is not the first older guy she’s dated. “How much older?”
She smiles and her white teeth practically gleam in contrast with her dark skin. “Eight years older. He’s in his mid-thirties. But damn, is he a hot one.”
“Mid-thirties isn’t crazy. As long as he’s not married.”
She widens her eyes, shaking her head, her expression one of horror. She’s already made that mistake once. She didn’t know the guy was married until she did and then it ended in a very ugly way.
“What does he do?”
Monique rolls her eyes at me, as if the answer should be obvious. “He’s a doctor of course. When the hell do I have time to meet anyone who doesn’t work at the hospital?”
“Touché. What kind of doctor?”
“Emergency Medicine.” I nearly spit out my margarita, but settle for choking on it instead. “You okay?” I nod, chugging down my water.
“What’s his name?” I squeak out once I’m able to breathe again. I know it’s not Finn. Finn is not in his mid-thirties, though I teased him that he was. But seriously? Why is it when you have a preoccupation with someone, every little bullshit insignificant thing reminds you of them?
“Michael Sanders.” Now I really do choke. I might in fact be turning blue. “Jesus, slow down before we have to Heimlich your ass.”
“Michael Sanders?” I gasp. “You’re dating Michael Sanders?”
“Yes,” she draws out the word hesitantly. “Do you know him?”
I nod. “Yes. He was my dad’s doctor. The day of graduation.”
Realization dawns on her face. “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Stop it. It’s fine. It was just a shock is all.”
Monique reaches over and gives me a hug, but this night feels like it’s going from bad to worse. That is until Chloe chimes in with, “We’ve got our own hot docs. Dr. Fernandez in OB
is my personal favorite of the moment, but I heard one of the nurses saying there is a god of an attending working in our ED now.” She winks at me and I’m officially in my own little version of hell.
“Yes,” Monique exclaims excitedly. “Michael said his protégé, Finn something or another, went over to you guys. Michael said nurses, and patients practically bleed themselves for him, but he doesn’t give any of them the time of day.”
And because I can’t help myself I say, “Why not?”
Monique shrugs. “Maybe he doesn’t date people from the hospital? I don’t know.”
“Huh,” Chloe says like this is a challenge she just accepted on my behalf because her eyes are glued to mine. Awesome. Little does she know it’s never going to happen.
But I do.
Because that’s basically what Finn told me. Or at least intimated.
“Well,” Monique says. “I can’t blame him for not dating people he works with. That shit can get messy. Workplace relationships are dicey.”
“So says the chick dating someone she works with,” I tease and we all laugh.
“Hell yeah,” Chloe half yells. “The messier, the better,” she says raising her glass for us all to toast to that.
We all laugh and morph into safer territory. At least safer for me. But I’m still stuck, fixated on the whole Finn not giving the time of day to the women he works with thing. Is that why it feels like it will never happen between us?
I have no idea and I hate that I care.
Chapter 6
Finn
7 years ago
Somehow, I thought I’d feel different. Somehow, I thought I’d be relieved he’s dead. But I’m not. And that bothers me because my father was a grade-A piece of shit. And now he’s dead. A heart attack, which sort of makes me want to laugh because the malevolent son of a bitch didn’t have a heart.
In fact, the only good thing he ever did for anyone in his entire life was to die and leave us his money.
