“Do you custom-make them, or do you have some already made?”
I frown slightly as I smile. “I have some made, but I also accept custom jobs.”
Chris breathes out harshly and rubs his forehead. “I kind of have to get my fiancée a gift for our anniversary, and I have no clue what to get her. You would think after eight years of being together I’d know, right?” He laughs. “She would love one of those hearts, though.”
“Well, I can bring some by on Thursday when I come back with the ones for the kids.”
He smiles. “That would be awesome. Do you know where my office is? It’s on the opposite side of Jen’s, same wing as you.”
“I’m sure I’ll find it.”
We get up at the same time and awkwardly looking at one another, back to our phones, and then to the other. Finally, he holds out his hand, and I shake it. “I’ll see you Thursday.”
I say goodbye and walk over to Oliver’s table, but he stands before I get there, and signals me to the hallway. I follow him into a room beside the food court. He closes the door behind us and pins me to the wall, kissing me before I can get a word out. I tug on his hair, he pulls on mine, and our hands hold the other’s face as our tongues collide. I pull apart on a breath.
“You really did miss me,” I pant. “Do you normally accost women in random hospital rooms?”
Oliver puts his forehead against mine and breathes out heavily. “Definitely not. I’m usually never this desperate.”
He groans when I drag my nails down his chest. “Tell me more about this desperation, Dr. Hart,” I murmur, leaning in and licking the seam of his lips. He pushes his hips against me, and I moan at how hard he feels.
“I need another date,” he whispers against my lips, his hands going under my shirt.
“Are you trying to take advantage of me in the middle of the workday?” I ask, arching my back when he tucks his hands under my bra.
“I clocked out over an hour ago,” he says, brushing my nipples with his thumb.
“And you stayed?”
“I wanted to wait for you.”
“Really?” I ask, gasping when his mouth dips and he takes in my nipple.
“Hmmm,” he responds against my skin.
“And then you sat there staring at me from across the room?”
“He’s not your type,” he says, licking my other nipple.
“What?” I grab his head to stop his movements, and he looks up at me.
“That guy you had your little lunch with. He’s not your type.”
I can’t help but smile. “You think I was on a date with a guy in the lunch room of the hospital you work at?”
He lets out a long breath, still cupping my breasts. “What would you call it?”
I laugh, shaking my head and cup his chin so that he looks at me again. “Calling it a date would be ridiculous. Would it bother you if it was?”
It takes everything in me not to laugh at the way he shrugs and looks away.
“Are you telling me you brought me in here because you got jealous?”
His eyes flicker to mine. “I’m not jealous.”
“So if I tell you that the guy you saw me with asked me out on a date—a real one—outside of the hospital, you wouldn’t mind?”
“Did he?” he growls.
“Would it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Because?” I ask, running both of my hands through his hair. He closes his eyes at the motion.
“Because.” He leans into my touch. “Because . . .”
“Uh-huh?”
His eyes pop open. “Because I want it to be me. I want to be that guy who takes you out all the time.”
“So be that guy,” I respond.
“I will be,” he says, leaning in to kiss me. “I will be.”
“Okay,” I respond, folding into his arms, wishing I could stay in them forever.
The reality that this may not be something I can do every day makes me ache.
As if uneasiness is seeping from me, he pulls away and touches my cheek with the back of his hands.
“It’s just an interview, Elle,” he whispers, looking at me.
I take a long, deep breath and close my eyes. It’s not really just an interview, though. It’s a life-changer. Life is short, I remind myself. Look at what happened to Wyatt. I’m not going to make Oliver feel bad for doing something he loves. I can’t be that girl—the one who demands someone give up their dreams in exchange for my happiness. When I feel calm again, I reopen my eyes. “I know. Go kick ass on your interview, Bean. Do what you need to do.”
I reach up and kiss him on the cheek. He grabs for me again, but I stop him.
“Call me when you get back.”
Somehow, I turn away from his big green eyes, from those large, warm hands, and from the sense of comfort he brings me. I walk out of the room and the hospital without looking back.