Beautiful Potential

by J. Saman

  “Oh,” I say feeling a little bad that I can’t place her other than vaguely recognizing her face. “What do you do?”

  She laughs, shaking her head. “Same thing as Mo here.” That doesn’t help me and when she realizes I don’t know what Mike’s girlfriend does, she laughs even harder. So does Monique, so I guess she’s not put off by that. “We’re midwives, Dr. Banner. You know, the people who deliver cute little bundles of joy into the world.”

  Great. Mike’s girlfriend is a midwife. And so is this chick. And she works at my hospital which means she knows Gia. Now that I think about it, that’s why I recognize her. I’ve seen the two of them together before.

  Just. Fucking. Perfect.

  I’ve successfully avoided her for weeks following that encounter in her apartment. I pissed her off when I answered my phone instead of kissing her, and that was it.

  It was for the best. That’s what I’ve continued to tell myself. Because wanting Gia the way I do is a problem. I don’t just want her for a night or a week or even a couple of months. She’s the type of woman I could want for the long term and I won’t go down that road again.

  I won’t.

  But every time I run into her, she chips away at my resolve a little more. Each time, I end up just a step closer to crossing that irreversible line with her. It was nearly impossible not to that night I slept in her bed with her. I held her all night, even if she doesn’t remember that part of it. I allowed myself to have that, knowing it would never happen again.

  I just didn’t expect it to feel so…perfect. So right. I didn’t expect to sit up half the night just so I could watch her sleep. So I could bury my nose in her hair and breathe in her unique fragrance.

  The night at the bar, when I found her completely drunk out of her mind, all I could think about was wanting to be the one to make it all better for her. Her hero, she called me. I can’t shake that one.

  I may be the broken one, but she’s the one who always needs saving.

  That’s really why I stayed the night, even if I did give her a half-hearted excuse for it.

  “So how do you know each other then,” I ask Chloe in reference to Monique. “You work at different hospitals.”

  “We went to graduate school together,” Chloe says like it should be obvious, which I guess it probably should be, but I’m thrown off right now.

  “Actually,” Mike interjects, “do you remember that girl who came in on her graduation day? Her father ended up dying from a STEMI?” I can only nod. “She’s actually Monique’s friend.”

  “Gia,” I say because I have to say her name.

  He nods, his expression a mixture of sympathy for Gia and surprise for me. “You remember.”

  “She works at the hospital with me. I’ve run into her a time or two.” I leave it at that and then turn back to her friends to see if anything else registers. Nothing does and I don’t know if it bothers me or not that Gia hasn’t mentioned anything else about me to her friends.

  Chloe steps into me, her blue eyes sparkling up at me. “Come buy me a free drink, Dr. Banner. I think our friends would like to be alone.”

  I have no interest in buying Chloe one of the free drinks here. “I believe Liam already called dibs on you,” I say with a wry smile.

  Chloe laughs, shaking her head. “Oh no. That wasn’t me. That was Gia. He zeroed in on her like Mark Walberg from that movie about the stalker.”

  “Fear,” Monique supplies with a roll of her eyes. “And it wasn’t that dramatic.”

  The two of them go back and forth for a minute, but I can’t focus on anything other than the fact that dipshit Liam called dibs on Gia. That Gia is here somewhere with that asshole who is no doubt trying to fuck her at this very moment. My Gia.

  That thought is eating me alive.

  And since Chloe here started with the movie clichés, my brain is running with that line from The Godfather III. Not my favorite of them, but the line still works in this situation. Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in. Only it’s not them, it’s Gia.

  Gia. Gia. Gia. It’s always Gia.

  Or at least it has been since I set eyes on her a year and a half ago.

  “Where is she?” I ask. I don’t even care how I sound right now or what they think of the desperate tone in my question. I need to get her away from Liam. He cannot have her.

  “Outside on the terrace,” Chloe responds with a smirk. “And I do believe our friend Liam is still at his makeshift bar.”

  “Sorry, Chloe,” I say to her with a smile, because I may actually like this girl. “I think you might have to find someone else buy you that drink.”

  Chloe lets out a dramatic sigh. “I figured as much. You’re lucky that this place is like a meat market, otherwise I wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily.”

  I grin at her. “You’re mixing metaphors.”

  “Part of her charm,” Monique says with a wink.

  “Catch you later,” I nod at Mike who might just be smiling bigger than Monique and Chloe combined. I ignore that. Because even though I’m being a selfish prick and trying to cockblock Liam, that doesn’t mean anything is going to happen with Gia and me. It just means I don’t want her to end up as another notch in his bedpost. And for the record, I know he does that. He bragged about it all through residency, only he’s smart enough to put the notches on the bottom of his bed where women can’t see them.

  Which makes him the official asshole and not me.

  Mike gives me a pat on the back and I wave bye to his girlfriend who seems nice enough and her friend Chloe and I go straight for those glass doors which lead out onto the balcony.

  Gia Bianchi will not end up with anyone tonight but me.

  Chapter 14

  Finn

  Opening the doors to the penthouse terrace, I’m instantly assaulted with a rush of cold wind across my face which temporarily steals my breath. It’s fairly empty out here. Just a few people sipping at drinks and talking. It’s a cool night and most of the women here are not dressed for these conditions, which is why I think it’s far more crowded inside than it is out here, despite the view.

  Gia is easy to spot, even in the dark. She’s wearing red, so maybe that’s why. Her long silky black hair is twisted into some kind of updo, revealing her upper back and neck. She’s leaning forward, her forearms propped up on the railing and from here, it looks like she’s staring down at the street.

  She’s alone and I sigh.

  What are you doing? I don’t have an answer for that.

  But right now, I’m not driven by rational thought. I’m driven by fucking jealousy. And that shit’s as necrotic as it comes. It makes perfectly levelheaded men, like myself, do really stupid illogical shit.

  Like go after a woman they’re crazy about, but should stay away from.

  “Miss Bianchi,” I whisper up against her neck, because I like making a big entrance where she’s concerned. I like catching her off guard.

  Her head whips in my direction, those blue-green eyes of hers wide as saucers. Her lips are red. And I really wish they weren’t because, damn. Then there’s that dress she’s wearing. It’s strapless. That part I already knew, but I didn’t realize the front of the dress dipped into a V and that her full tits would be pressed together into that V.

  Is she trying to kill me? Thank god, it’s dark out here, otherwise the tent in my jeans would be not only be obvious, but a touch awkward. She’s sexy as sin and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more stunningly gorgeous woman in my life.

  She doesn’t smile. In fact, she might be scowling a bit though it’s tough to tell out here.

  “Aren’t you cold?” I ask her because the wind off the river is whipping in our direction and it’s not all that pleasant. I wish I had the foresight to wear a jacket so I could put it on her.

  She shakes her head. “No. I like the cold.”

  That’s all she gives me and I realize I have a lot o
f ground to make up where she’s concerned.

  “What are you watching?” I ask, jutting my chin in the direction of her phone which seems to be playing something.

  She grins now, like I just busted her. “Watching the Red Sox,” she says. “They’re up, two to one.”

  And I’m in love. Because Gia is outside watching baseball on her phone instead of inside mingling with assholes.

  But wait… “You’re a Red Sox fan?”

  She laughs, nodding her head. “Yes. I’m originally from Boston. Or didn’t you know?”

  “I didn’t know. But now that I do, I don’t think we can be friends.”

  “I didn’t realize we were friends.”

  Ouch. Point one, Gia Bianchi.

  “I guess we’re not.”

  “Then you don’t have to linger. Besides, I was expecting someone to bring me a drink. A male someone in case you were curious. I know your philosophy on sharing.”

  I smile because I can’t help myself. “I have drinks,” I say, moving in next to her as close as I can so our arms are touching on the railing. She doesn’t pull away and I take that as a sign to proceed. “I have lots of drinks actually. I just didn’t think you’d ever drink again. Isn’t that what you said?”

  “Did I?” she smirks. “I don’t recall.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” I lean my shoulder into her, nudging her just enough for it to be flirtatious.

  “What do you want, Finn?”

  I hate that question. Mostly because I don’t know how to answer it. Everything, I think, but will never say.

  “For you to come and have a drink with me. I thought I already offered that up.”

  She purses those full red lips at me. God, she’s stunning.

  “Besides, Liam isn’t your type.”

  She smirks at me again, twisting her body so she’s facing me. Her damn cleavage is like a shining beacon in the dark. I couldn’t look away if I tried. And for the record, I am trying.

  “How did you know it was Liam who was bringing me a drink?”

  I lean into her, our faces inches apart. My stomach coils and my cock thickens again and my lips tingle and my hands twitch and I’m beyond desperate for her. “Because I know everything. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

  “Except women.”

  Doesn’t she have my number pegged. “Except them,” I agree. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong about Liam.”

  “Okay, Dr. Banner–” I hate it when she does that, “–I’ll bite. Who’s my type then?”

  My face comes so close that our noses are practically touching. That our lips are practically tasting. Our breaths are definitely mingling in the cool air. She lets me do this and I don’t think at this point, I need to answer her.

  I’m her type. Me. No one else.

  “Come have a drink with me,” I say, my eyes staring into hers.

  And while I can’t stand how attracted I am to her, I also won’t tolerate her doing anything else tonight.

  “No,” she says and I can’t stop the bubble of laughter as it flies out of my chest.

  “No?”

  “Was I unclear?”

  My eyes train away from hers, out into the dark Manhattan night, but I make sure I can see her out of my peripheral vision. “Is it because I’m an asshole?”

  She doesn’t laugh, but she does nod.

  “Well then, I guess I have a lot to make up for.”

  “Or not,” she shrugs and that pisses me off.

  “No. I think I do.” I turn on her, standing up to my full height and pushing my size into her. “Come with me.”

  “I really don’t want another drink.”

  “Something to eat?” She shakes her head. “Cappuccino, Miss Bianchi?”

  She laughs, her sweet breath brushing against me. “È troppo tardi per il cappuccino.”

  Oh hell. “You speak Italian?” Another head nod and an arrogant smirk. “Come with me,” I say again.

  I don’t give her the option to protest this time. And she allows me to drag her. I’m not exactly knocking her out and tossing her over my shoulder–caveman style. I’m more leading her and she’s letting me, so I take that as an affirmative.

  The room is warm and the crowd is dense, but she holds on firmly to my hand as I escort her through it until we reach the elevators.

  “There you are,” Liam says, catching up just as I press the down button. “I was looking for you, Gia.”

  She glances over at him and then down at our linked hands.

  “Goodnight, Liam,” I tell him, catching the hint of a smile from Gia as the elevator doors open and we step on. Liam watches us go, a scowl on his face as the doors close.

  “I think he’s mad at you.”

  “Couldn’t care less.”

  She shrugs and twenty seconds later, the elevator doors open onto my floor and Gia laughs. “You’re kidding me. I thought you were taking me out for coffee.”

  I smile now. “I live in the same building. And I am taking you out for cappuccino,” I emphasize. “I just need to grab my wallet, keys and a coat for both of us.”

  She shakes her head and steps out, waiting for me to direct her. I never locked my door when I left so I just twist the nob and we’re in.

  “God, you’re irritating, Banner.”

  “Finn,” I correct. I should only be Finn to her.

  “No,” she says with a headshake, turning to me and then walking backward, away. “Banner. It allows me to keep my distance.”

  “And that’s a necessity.”

  It’s not a question, but she answers me all the same. “You bet.”

  I don’t bother responding. She’s with me and that’s all I care about.

  Grabbing my phone, wallet and keys, I shove them into my pockets and then snag my coat from the front closet as well a blazer for Gia that’s a bit too small for me. Walking back across the room, I pause, watching her. She’s making herself at home, in my home, taking my remote off the coffee table and flipping on the television.

  Then she laughs, shaking her head because the Red Sox and the Indians are still on.

  She peeks over at me with a smile which lights up those cyan-colored eyes.

  “You’re really a Yankee’s fan, aren’t you?” she asks incredulously.

  “Yeah. I guess that means we’re officially incompatible.”

  “Officially.”

  “Except you’re here, aren’t you?”

  “Looks that way. Doesn’t change the fact I’m a Boston fan and you’re a New York fan and a total asshole, to boot.”

  I laugh, wrapping my arms around her and placing my extra jacket over her shoulders. She looks good wrapped up in my things. “How’s this then? I’ll work on not being an asshole if you work on giving me another chance?”

  Gia steps back, her eyes focus on mine.

  “Okay, Finn. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “Perfect.” I take her hand in mine and lead us to the door, because I can’t have her in my apartment without throwing her down on my sofa and lifting up that dress of hers. Or yanking it down. Or both. “Let’s go.”

  Locking up my apartment, I direct her back to the elevator and down into the cool New York evening. “Does this mean you’re a Giants fan?” she asks as we amble down the street. There is a really good coffee shop near here and they stay open until one a.m. “I should warn you, if you tell me you’re a Jets fan, this night is over.”

  I laugh, tugging her into my side and kiss her head.

  I don’t know what I’m doing with her.

  I know what I’m risking. I know my gut is telling me to run every time I get closer. But right now, all I can think about is the way Liam looked at her. The thoughts swirling through his mind which he didn’t bother to hide in his expression. Yes, I’m a dick for not wanting her with anyone else.

  But at least I’m a self-aware dick.

  “No. Not
a Jets fan, so I think the night is safe. I’d say I’m a Giants fan, but I’m more into baseball than football.”

  Gia shakes her head. “I guess that’s better than you being a diehard fan for the enemy.”

  I laugh again and I realize I haven’t laughed this much in more than three years. “This is us,” I say, opening the door for her. It’s decently busy in here, but I spot a vacant two-person table in the back. “Come on.”

  Pulling out the chair for her, Gia sits down with a nod of appreciation. “Thank you.”

  “Do you want a cappuccino? I know I said that’s what we were getting, but they have a lot of really good drinks here.”

  “Hot chocolate, please.”

  “Hot chocolate?” She nods and I can’t stop my spreading grin. “God, you’re cute.” I lean down and kiss the corner of her lips before I can stop myself. She smiles. She likes that I just kissed her without actually kissing her. And that I called her cute, I think. And even though I like making her smile, I’m a fucking idiot for it. “Do you want whipped cream?”

  “Of course. That’s the only way to drink it.”

  “Anything to eat?” She shakes her head. “Okay, Miss Bianchi, sit tight and I’ll be right back with your hot chocolate and whipped cream.”

  “Thank you so much, Dr. Banner. You’re quite the gentleman when you want to be.”

  If only she knew.

  Turning away, I rub my fist against the tight spot in my chest.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Chapter 15

  Gia

  I don’t know what I’m doing here. Every single time I tell myself I’m over Finn Banner, he finds me. Every single time I tell myself I’m done with Finn Banner, he manages to get me to follow after him like a mindless fool.

  And I am not a mindless fool. I’m not. I like to believe I am strong and in control.

  But I’m not when it comes to Finn. I don’t even know what it is about him which has me relinquishing that control so readily. I meant it when I said he’s an asshole. Because he is. I meant it when I told him no, out on that balcony. Because I did.