Beautiful Potential

by J. Saman

  “Hero, indeed,” Ophelia grins. “How about a beer then, hero?”

  I can only nod. Gia has a way of cutting me to the quick. It’s impossible not to feel conflicted where she’s concerned. On the one hand, she just said I fuck with her mind. That sucks. I’m not typically that guy. I’m usually very upfront with my endeavors. But Gia is not one of my endeavors.

  On the other, she called me her hero. Not just rescuer, but hero. And yeah, I realize those two terms are closely related. Nearly the same thing. But for some inexplicable reason, they feel different.

  Terrifying and exhilarating. That’s how this feels.

  Gia turns to me with watery, bloodshot eyes. “My patient died today, Finn.” There is so much heartbreak in her voice. The tears she just shed were not her first. This is eating her up.

  I can’t stand her hurting.

  Without conscious thought, I reach out and cup her face. She sighs, tilting her head and leaning further into my touch, yet she doesn’t know what to make of the gesture. More mind fuck, I realize.

  She’s so beautiful. So sweet and pure and innocent. She’s also strong, forthright and tough as nails. I like all of this about her. It keeps me on my game. Keeps me up at night thinking about her. But it’s this incredible childlike vulnerability she emanates which leads me to want to wrap her up and keep her safely tucked away from anything that could potentially consider hurting her.

  I don’t think. I don’t second guess. I just act.

  I text Mike and tell him we’ll meet up another night. Then I slide my phone back into the pocket of my scrubs, take a sip of my newly delivered Stella and turn back to her when I think I’ve got some modicum of control over my emotions. “Tell me about your patient.”

  She blinks at me, her eyes welling up once again with those big tears she cries. “It’s so awful.” A tear cascades down her cheek and I reach out to swipe it away. “I think she threw a clot or an aneurism burst. But she died, Finn. She died. And her baby…” she trails off, shaking her head, unable to finish her thought as she swallows down audibly.

  “I’m sorry about your patient,” I say, taking her into my arms as she cries a little harder. My lips press into the top of her head as I hold her close to me. “It sucks. I know. But it wasn’t your fault, Gia. And if this is the first patient you’ve lost in the year plus you’ve been practicing, then you’re doing something right. I’ve seen you in action, sweetheart. You’re incredible at your job. Sometimes no matter how perfect we are, shit goes wrong anyway.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbles against me. Squeezes me back a little to let me know she means it. “I don’t want to cry anymore. I was drinking so I would stop.” She sniffles, pulling back and wiping her fingertips under her eyes, removing any remaining moisture. “Holy cheeseballs, I hate this crap.” She blows out a hot puff of air and then gives me a forced smile. “So,” she laughs lightly. “What brings you into my new favorite bar?”

  “I was meeting a friend.”

  “And now?”

  I shrug. “Now I’m with you.”

  “Because you’re protective over me.” It’s not a question, but I find myself nodding all the same. I am protective over her. She really has no idea the lengths I would go to. “I wish I didn’t like you, Finn,” she laughs. “You’re sort of an asshole. A hot asshole, but still.”

  “I knew you thought I was hot.”

  She rolls her eyes at me, but she can’t stop her broadening smile. Those tears drying up with her amusement, which was my intent. “Seriously? That’s what you took from everything I just said?” Gia sways slightly, reminding me just how shitfaced she actually is.

  No. Actually all I can think about is the fact she just admitted she likes me. It’s like I’m fifteen all over again. It’s that good. “Do you know what I do when I lose a patient?”

  “What? Tell me, Finn. I’m all ears. Because this alcohol stuff isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. All it seems to do is make me have to pee. It also makes my head spin and my thoughts a little fuzzy. My inhibitions are probably out the window right now. But it hasn’t taken away the ache.”

  God, what would I give to be able to take away that ache for her?

  “I usually run, but that’s not going to help us now.”

  “Nope. Try again.” She sinks against the side of the bar, her eyes growing soft and heavy. Then she yawns and I’m suddenly relieved. I was thinking about places I could take her. Things I could do with her to lift her spirits.

  That’s the problem with Gia. She has me scheming.

  “I was going to say Skee-Ball, but I think you’re too tired for the arcade.” That’s not really what I do when I lose a patient. I was serious about the running. But it just so happens the last time someone died unexpectedly, a group of people went to an arcade and I tagged along. It did help so why not say it? And because I know it will amuse her. It will take her mind off of her patient and that’s all I can ask for.

  “Skee-Ball,” she smiles so big, showcasing all of her white teeth. “You play Skee-Ball when you lose a patient?”

  I shift until I’m sitting closer to her. Until our knees are touching. Until she looks down and stares at them. Then I take her hand and lace our fingers together. She looks at those too and I know what I’m doing. I know this is more of my mind fuck. But I don’t know how to stop.

  That’s another problem with Gia. I don’t know how to stop.

  “Skee-Ball is the ultimate tension releaser,” I tell her as I lean in just enough to catch a hint of her perfume which I like so much. “Think about it. You get to toss a decently weighted ball for points and then you get tickets that earn you prizes. It’s genius.”

  “Skee-Ball,” she says, testing the word on her tongue. “I’m in, let’s go.”

  I shake my head. “Not tonight. It’s late and you’re drunk and tired.” She frowns and it’s an adorable response. “Did you know there is this game which has a disclaimer, warning against increased seizure risk.”

  She laughs, the clouds parting as her eyes brighten. “Which game?”

  “Space Invaders. And if you ever stop to watch the game, you’ll understand why. That’s another reason not to go to the arcade tonight. I believe alcohol lowers seizure threshold.”

  She rolls her eyes at me again. “I believe it does, Doctor. Fine. Not tonight. But another night. Honestly, I think I should go home. The room is starting to spin a little.”

  “Then let me walk you.”

  Her eyes bore into mine and then she glances down at our hands which are still linked. “Okay,” she whispers. “You can walk me home.”

  Chapter 11

  Gia

  My eyes slowly peel back only to be assaulted with the ferocious light of day streaming through my open window. I guess I forgot to close that last night when I got home. Home. That is where I am, right? Yes, that’s my window and those are my curtains and that’s my phone ringing on my bedside table.

  My hand reaches out, slapping at the offending phone, screaming out the worst noise in the history of noises. It takes me two tries to pick it up, but once I do, I realize it’s my mother. “Crap,” I mutter. “Hi Mom,” I say after I accept the call. Oh god, my voice sounds like I swallowed gravel and my mouth tastes like I drank dishwater and then washed it all down with cotton.

  “Gia, what time are you coming today, because I still haven’t gone out to the store and I have nothing in the house.”

  My eyebrows furrow in confusion, but that doesn’t feel all that great so I stop and go with inwardly confused instead. It takes my foggy, alcohol-saturated brain exactly five full seconds to remember I did, in fact, promise my mother I would come out to visit her today and we’d have lunch. “What time is it?”

  My mother sighs, clearly not all that impressed with me right now. “It’s seven-thirty, Gia. I wouldn’t have called this early, but you’re usually awake by now.”

  She’s right. I’m typically an early
riser. But that’s not the case after I spend a night drinking the way I did last night. Last night. Wow, I really can’t remember all that much.

  “I’ll be there by noon. Is that okay?”

  “Yes. That’s fine. I was going to make that salad you like. You know, the one with figs and goat cheese.”

  My stomach rolls and I’m unable to stop my groan of nausea. My eyes close and I take two deep breathes which help to suppress the urge to vomit all over my area rug. “That’s fine. I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

  I hit the end button and then set my phone back down. All I really want to do is curl back under the covers and close my eyes, but I have to pee and that seems to be winning right now. Stupid alcohol. This is why I don’t typically have more than two, three drinks max. But judging the level of hangover I’m sporting right now, I went way beyond that limit.

  Not more than four though. Ophelia promised and she stuck to that.

  Sitting up, I twist, planting my feet on the floor. I need a minute to sit here before I can move or even stand up. Looking down I realize I’m in a t-shirt and my panties. Nicely done, me. And there is even a glass of water on my nightstand. It’s full, which means I passed out before I drank any of it. That probably explains why I feel like I want to die about now.

  Standing up on unsteady legs, I allow my body to sway, before trying to right myself.

  Jesus, I really did a– “Morning beautiful.”

  “Ahhhh!” I scream, spinning around far too quickly as it takes my brain another couple of seconds to stop. And when my brain does stop spinning, I see Finn Banner in my bed, pulling himself up into a sitting position, leaning against the fabric of my headboard, naked. At least he appears naked because the sheet is covering him from the waist down and he’s not wearing anything on top.

  Which means his chest is exposed to the overabundance of daylight streaming in my window.

  Holy mother of sin, his chest and arms are something else. Strong and smooth and muscular with just the perfect amount of light hair. His abs are another matter altogether. I’m going to confess that I’ve never actually seen a six-pack in the flesh. At least none of the other men I’ve ever been with have had one.

  But Finnigan Banner most definitely does.

  I realize I’ve been standing here staring at him, most likely drooling, for longer than I should have, because once my eyes manage to find their way back up to his face, he’s laughing at me.

  “What are you doing here?” I’m so confused. I remember leaving the bar with him, but…

  Now he just looks even more amused and that’s sort of pissing me off.

  “You don’t remember?”

  I shake my head. “Oh my god, we didn’t…” I trail off, unable to finish the end of that very obvious question.

  “I’m hurt, Gia. Really hurt that you don’t remember our wild night together.” I’m going to be sick. And worse, I can’t tell if he’s messing with me or not.

  “Finn?” I say his name very slowly and very clearly and with the distinct intonation of a question at the end of it.

  “No. We did not have sex.” He scratches his lightly stubbled jaw line and the motion is very distracting. In fact, everything about him right now is distracting. “The only thing we did last night was talk while you drank yourself into oblivion and then I brought you home.”

  “I remember some of that. I mean, I remember you showing up and us talking a little. I remember leaving the bar with you. But I don’t remember you staying.”

  “That’s because you were pretty much asleep by the time we got back here. I had to practically carry you up. I only stayed because I was afraid you were going to vomit on your back in your sleep.”

  I look down. “Did you do this?” I ask, waving my hand in front of my short t-shirt. I think my panties are showing. I’m almost positive they are and I can’t remember if I’m wearing plain cotton or something pretty and sexy. Please let it be the latter. I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful for getting waxed two days ago as I am right now.

  He gives me an impish grin and shrugs. “I couldn’t let you sleep in your bed in your scrubs. That would have been nasty. Think of all the microbes I just saved your sheets from. But don’t worry, I was as much of a gentleman as I’m capable of being. I barely looked. Promise.”

  “Barely?” I raise an eyebrow at that.

  He returns my raised eyebrow, only his is accompanied by that damn sexy grin of his. And then he shrugs, not willing to clarify further.

  Why don’t I care if he looked? I should care that he stripped me down and put me in only a t-shirt while I was wasted. But I don’t. What is wrong with me when it comes to this man? I’m no longer the girl who knows better. I’m the brainless schoolgirl who shamelessly throws herself at the boy she likes, hoping he’ll come around.

  And he does. So freaking often. Maybe that’s why this is so difficult. Finn likes me. I know he does. Because I’m not that brainless schoolgirl. I know when a man is attracted to me. And Finn is more than attracted to me. Finn wants me just as much as I want him.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “That depends on what you’re referring to. Are you asking about how I feel after my night of too much alcohol or are you asking how I feel about waking up to find you in my bed?

  “Both,” Finn chuckles. “Though I think I know how you feel about the second one since you told me you liked having me in your bed last night.”

  Oh shit.

  “Anything else regretful I should be aware of?”

  “Probably, but those are for me to hold onto and for you to torture yourself over.”

  “God.” I shake my head and immediately wish I hadn’t. “You really are an asshole.”

  “Yup.” He grins even bigger now. “You said that last night too, but you called me a hot asshole, amongst other things, so I’ll keep the compliments.”

  “I remember that one. And I’m sure I was being ironic when I said I liked having you in my bed. I mean, you basically invited yourself there.” He’s not at all bothered by my accusation. Plus, I think he knows I’m lying. How could he not? Alcohol is like my own version of truth serum. I don’t tend to hold back. It’s why I don’t usually drink that much.

  And right now, with the way he’s looking at me, I wish I had kept my big mouth shut. Because I told him I liked him. I told him he was hot. I told him he was fucking with my head. And now that I focus on it, as the memories slowly trickle in, I vaguely remember remarking on how good he smelled before I fell asleep. Snuggling into him!

  I am never drinking again. I realize everyone says that after a night of too much alcohol and bad decisions, but I absolutely mean it right now.

  “I am going to pee and vomit and brush my teeth and when I come out, hopefully you’ll be dressed. And then after you’re dressed, you’re going to promise me that you’ll never ever tell anyone about anything that happened last night. Ever.”

  “Does this mean I’m no longer your hero?” He gives me a cocky smirk. Asshole! Now he’s just messing with me. And enjoying the hell out of it. And he looks unbelievably hot and sexy in my bed. I can’t believe I called him my hero to his face. Jesus Christ. Could I have said anything cheesier to him? I hate everything right now.

  “Jerk,” I mutter, walking around the bed and straight for my bathroom.

  I slam the door behind me because I feel like that’s what I’m supposed to do, but the sound has me wincing. Once the throbbing subsides, I smile because Finn tried to make me feel better when I was sad and then stayed with me so I wouldn’t aspirate on my own vomit. You like me, Finn. I know you do. One day you’ll have to get over yourself and admit it.

  Five minutes later, my face is washed and my teeth are brushed and I’m feeling a little better for it. When I exit the bathroom, Finn is indeed dressed in his scrubs and is now sitting on the edge of my made bed, doing something on his phone.

  He made my bed.
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br />   “Hi,” I say, just a bit–or maybe a lot–embarrassed. I spent that whole five minutes in the bathroom trying to remember everything I said last night. I think I’ve gotten most of it. I hope I’ve gotten most of it.

  Finn puts his phone down and peers up at me. “Feeling better?”

  “A little.” I shift my weight. “I, uh, I just wanted you to know I don’t typically get drunk like that. It was just a really awful day.”

  He nods his head. “I know. You told me that too. I’m really am sorry about your patient. I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but it doesn’t. It always sucks.”

  “Thanks,” I say, sitting down next to him, but making sure there is enough space between us. I’m in shorts now. I pulled a slightly dirty pair out of my hamper, but desperate times and all. At least my panties were of the sexy variety. “Have you ever had that? A patient die on you like that? So unexpected?”

  “Yes. I have. I work in the ED, remember? Your dad was one of those people.”

  “Really?” I say, my eyebrows raised.

  “Yeah. He came in and was in such rough shape, but we managed to get him back and off to the cath lab. I was really hopeful. Especially after I saw you come in.” He shifts his position, angling himself so he’s facing more of me. His bright-blue eyes dance all around my face. “You looked so distraught and I knew by your black gown, it was graduation day for you. All I could think of when I saw you was, not her. I didn’t want you to lose your father like that on a day that’s supposed to be one of the best of your life.”