After a few more minutes, Joe finally stopped whining long enough to let Cayson get a word in. When his sexy doctor did speak, he declined Joe with sincerity and gentility, and it made Quick the happiest man in the world right then. Hopefully, it was because he’d given Cayson such a nice evening that he wasn’t ready to stop seeing him.
But Joe heard that no and the evil, I’ll-get-you-back stare was aimed right at Cayson. It was time for Quick to make his presence known again. The conversation was over and there was a car horn honking out front.
“Your ride’s here,” Quick said with a rough finality, standing midway down the stairs. Crossing his arms over his chest. His 9mm now tucked securely in the front of his jeans. Faster access. “It’s time for you to leave. If Cayson’s wants you back… he’ll call you.”
Cayson plopped down on his couch while he and Joe had their stare-off. Quick never blinked, and neither did Joe. Quick nodded once. Challenge received and accepted.
~~~~~~~~
Cayson was pretty quiet while he and Quick walked around the corner to his truck the next morning. He was still upset about Joe. The guy had been a mess when he finally left. Although he told the cab driver Joe’s address, he hoped his old friend made it home safely. He wasn’t going to call Joe. Right now, they needed distance. His friend may have his issues, but Cayson couldn’t deny Joe’s immeasurable intelligence. When he calmed down, he’d see that Cayson was right. They had no real future together.
Quick opened the passenger door first, before jogging around to the driver side. “I wish we’d had time for me to make you breakfast, but I thought you’d like to sleep as long as you could. I can swing by an IHOP and get something to go if you want.” There wouldn’t be enough time for anything else.
Cayson placed his messenger bag on the floor at his feet and fastened his seat belt. “No. I’m okay. I’ll grab a muffin or something from the coffee cart. I don’t like to perform surgeries on a full stomach, anyway.”
“Okay, then.”
Cayson was in a sour mood and he picked up that Quick was trying to bring him out of it. He appreciated the effort, but the wound was still very raw. He’d lost a friend last night. He was sure of it. Cayson wasn’t ready to give up on Quick, or even the smallest chance that he could be loved, just so Joe could have an arrangement with him. It didn’t take his thirteen years of college and graduate school to know who held the better chance at keeping Cayson’s heart safe.
“I haven’t even checked my schedule for today yet,” Cayson said absently. He pulled a tablet out of the front flap of his bag and began tapping. Quick was focused on the road, the traffic starting to pick up. It was only about fifteen minutes from Cayson’s house to Emory Hospital. Quick opted to take Briarcliff instead of Lullwater Road, and while Cayson waited for his schedule to load, he watched the cars whizzing around them, everyone with somewhere they were supposed to be.
The chime on his tablet alerted him that his first appointment was only an hour away. The rest of his schedule looked pretty light for a Friday, and he felt instant relief. Hopefully, by three at the latest, he’d be leaving. He needed time to process everything that’d happened. No covering in the ER tonight, either. He had a total of three checkup appointments, no names were listed, but he knew Nania would have a detailed schedule on his desk when he got there. Only two surgeries. The last was an incisional biopsy – no sweat – with monitored anesthesia. Oh, no. Please, no. But a quick flick of the screen and… fuck me! Cayson groaned. Not Dr. Joe.
“You alright, Cays?” Quick asked.
He only managed a slight curve of his mouth in reply.
Cayson pinched the bridge of his nose, his head lowered and his eyes squeezed shut, he couldn’t imagine his luck being so bad. Joe was employed by a network of hospitals, so he could show up in anyone’s operating room in any of the four hospitals within that network. He went where he was assigned. However, Cayson hadn’t had Dr. Joe in his OR in almost two months, and of all the times, he was paired with him after what’d just gone down between them. Cayson would be professional. He was certain Joe would, too. He wouldn’t dare risk anyone whispering about him, spreading rumors that he was behaving erratically in an OR. Joe’s surname had to remain untainted. Besides, it was a general rule not to bring your personal bullshit into anyone’s surgery. It meant life or death for the patient.