On the way, I started thinking about Tess again.
“Are you worried about something?” Laney asked out of nowhere.
“What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know. You seemed preoccupied.”
“I spoke to Tess when we were in the kitchen. She was very melancholic—said she always wanted kids but isn’t sure if it will happen for her.”
“Oh, no. Hmm. Let me think. Isabelle was in a bit of a funk too. She’s not really making headway in gaining new clients. They both need cheering up. Maybe I can arrange an outing.”
“You’re fucking adorable.”
“I’ll come up with something. This is so new to me—planning stuff for my leisure time. I haven’t actually had full weekends off since I moved to New York.” But she’d taken time off for me. “It’s always been so easy to focus on my patients and research, and just forget about my issues.”
I squeezed her hand, bringing it to my lips. “And now?” I glanced sideways at her, watching her intently.
“Now, Mr. Winchester, you make me want to live a little. Explore New York... you.”
Yes! Fuck, yes! I’d never wanted to let anyone too close, but now all I wanted was to explore her.
“I don’t even know what to do with all this time,” she went on. I picked up on the teasing note in her voice.
“I have some ideas about how to fill it.” I pulled her closer, tilting my head. To my surprise, she put two fingers against my lips. I cocked a brow.
“Oh, no, no. No more kissing in the street.”
“Since when?”
“Since we established that it’s messing with my inner compass.”
I pointed with my thumb behind my shoulder. “Well, that’s the station, and this is nonsense.”
“So, here are the rules—”
“I’ll show you kissing rules,” I said, right before I kissed her senseless, right there on the sidewalk. She stumbled backward, eyes dazed and happy.
“You’re a danger to me, Winchester.”
I grinned against her lips. “You think this is dangerous? Friendly warning: you haven’t seen anything yet.”
Chapter Twenty
Laney
Over the next two weeks, I realized that actually having a personal life when you were a surgical resident was insanely difficult. My respect for my colleagues with families increased tenfold. I was currently intensely following three goals. One: being up to no good with Cole. Two: attempting to lift Isabelle’s mood. Three: checking in with Skye periodically because she was getting more anxious as her due date approached.
“This is a good space,” I remarked.
“I agree, it has the right energy,” Isabelle said. We were checking out places for her practice. This was a six hundred forty-five square feet room in a high rise in Brooklyn. It didn’t have much of a view, but the windows were large enough for plenty of natural light to filter in.
“You only need a desk, a few chairs, and an armchair, right?”
Isabelle nodded, walking around with a strange expression.
“Isabelle, what’s wrong? If you don’t like it, we can just go.”
“The only thing I don’t like is the rent, but that’s true for everything I’ve seen.”