It was a small risk to assume Galen wanted to see her later that evening. But Rowan went to Galen’s office after her last case of that day anyway.
“Can I come in?”
Galen sat hunched over some paper charts, a tiny cup of espresso in hand. She brightened immediately when she looked up. “Always.”
“How many of those have you had today, anyway?” Rowan said, teasing her.
“This is my sixth. What are you, nagging me already?” Galen smiled. “Besides, it’s slightly safer than whiskey, and I won’t lose my job for operating under the influence of caffeine. You want one?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
Galen’s eyes were coy and mischievous, and Rowan had already figured out what that look meant. She gestured with one finger for Rowan to come closer. No part of Rowan wanted to protest, so she took a couple of steps nearer until she was standing over her.
“Hi…” Rowan said.
“Hi, yourself.”
Rowan almost didn’t recognize herself as she spread her legs and straddled Galen’s lap, kissing her neck as Galen’s hands found their way to her hair. She wasn’t sure when she’d become so bold, so liberated. But she was thrilled. “You don’t mind me dropping in like this?”
“Mind? Are you kidding? I’m ecstatic.” Galen weaved her arms around Rowan’s waist and pulled herself into her until she was resting her head on Rowan’s chest. “Actually, I kind of missed you today.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Again, I find that fact so incredibly annoying.”
“I missed you too.” Rowan kissed her cheek. “How was the day?”
“Pretty standard. That lady with the ascending cholangitis is doing fine now. Her LFTs are down, and so is her white count.”
“You know, it’s really sexy when you talk about medicine.”
Galen’s cheeks colored a little, and she bit her lower lip in a suppressed grin. “You think so, huh?”
“Oh, yes.” Still fully in Galen’s lap, Rowan took Galen’s face in her hands and kissed her with the same need she’d had the night before. “Wait.” She pulled away abruptly. “Are we becoming those people I hate?”
Galen looked confused. “Which people are those?”
“You know! Those people. The gross ones who gush about each other constantly and can’t stop making out. The ones I want to punch.”
“What? No way. We are so not like that…Okay. Maybe we’re a little like that. But at least it’s not in front of anyone, right? Besides, I like being gross with you.” She kissed Rowan again, feeling some of Rowan’s panic and discomfort ease.
“I like being gross with you too. And I suppose, as long as no one’s around to see it, it’s fine. Right?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good. When do you think you’ll be done tonight?” Rowan didn’t want to sound too presumptuous, but she hoped she could manage to see Galen again. She realized fully that she was acting like a crazy person. She’d just spent the previous night with her. And the following morning. It would be insanity to spend another night with her. But it was all she wanted.
“You know what?” Galen straightened, and her eyebrows jumped a little. “I’m done right now. I mean, I’m never really done. I have four cases tomorrow I could always read up on and fifteen post-ops I should check on. And a million other things on my to-do list. But you know what I want to do more than anything right now?”
“What’s that, Dr. Burgess?”
“I want to take you on a proper date.”
“I’ve heard your idea of a proper date consists of a quick fuck on this desk right here. Not that I’d necessarily mind that.”
“Oh my God! Did you just swear?” Galen pressed her hand against her chest dramatically.
“I’m not quite the good girl you think I am, you know.” Rowan ground her hips into Galen’s and teased Galen’s neck with her tongue until Galen’s breathing was fast and heavy and her eyes were glassing over.
“I think I’m starting to believe that.”
“Good. Now, about this date. What did you have in mind?” Rowan smiled, pleased at the power she seemed to have over Galen. It was both exciting and comforting to know that someone she wanted so badly could want her so much in return.
“Dinner. And then maybe I’ll take you up on your version of my dates.” Galen winked.
“Maybe?” Rowan kissed her, her lips just a whisper against Galen’s at first, until the kiss built into a tug-of-war of resilience and sheer will, both of them taking exactly what they needed without fully submitting.
“Okay, yes. Yes, you can have me if you want. Anywhere, anytime,” Galen finally said, laughing joyfully.
“That’s better. And I’d love to have dinner. But I need to go home and clean up first.”
“Great. How about Porto?”
“Honestly, my experience of the Boston-area cuisine has been limited to the sushi place down the street from my apartment and the cafeteria chicken fingers.” Rowan briefly worried that her humble Texas upbringing couldn’t match wits with the money and sophistication of the Burgess legacy. But then Galen took her hand and ran her thumb gently over the top, easing any fear Rowan might have been harboring. Their backgrounds were different, that was true. But their paths had led them to the same place. And Rowan, always the fatalist, was finding it hard to believe that was a coincidence.
“You’ll love it. It’s Jody Adams’s place. She’s a family friend, so I’m sure I can get us a table.”
“Are you showing off for me? Because your money and power largely unimpress me.”
Galen pretended to look hurt. “Guess I’ll just have to rely on my good looks and intelligence to win you over.”
“Pick me up in an hour.” Rowan kissed her chin, physically forcing herself to untangle herself from Galen.
* * *
What the hell do people wear on dates, anyway? Galen felt completely clueless as she flipped through her enormous walk-in closet. It was filled end to end with designer shirts and suits and shoes, but she couldn’t figure out what to wear. Not only had it been years since she’d been on a date that didn’t consist of a quickie in her office (Rowan hadn’t been wrong), but she rarely had to wear real clothes anymore. She spent the majority of her life in scrubs, and when she wasn’t in those, she was likely at home in sweatpants. Neither of those seemed like a palatable option for a date with Rowan—not when she wanted things to be perfect.
“No. No. No, no no.” Galen tossed aside shirt after shirt before finally stopping at one that still had the tags on it—a navy, plaid Tom Ford she’d bought for a conference and never worn. She tried it on, buttoned the buttons one by one in the mirror, and smoothed her hands down her sides. “Yes.” She smiled, pleased with what she saw but unable to keep from noticing just how much she looked like her father. He may be a dick, she told herself, but at least he’s not bad-looking. After years of having girls fall all over themselves in her presence, Galen knew she was attractive. She also knew looks only counted for so much.
From the top of her closet she pulled out her best pair of dark jeans and put them on, tucking in her shirt and securing it with a belt. She topped off the outfit with a fitted black jacket and a pair of boots, and sprayed a little hairspray in her usually unruly hair. A bottle of expensive cologne that her sister had given her for Christmas several years ago sat nearly untouched on her nightstand. After a few generous spritzes, she took one last look in the mirror, decided she would do, walked to her building’s parking garage, and got into her car.
* * *
It had been forever since Rowan had been on a “proper date.” Unless, of course, she was counting Thursday night dinners at Zaxby’s with Brian, which she wasn’t. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to find something to wear that wasn’t scrubs or yoga pants. Whatever it was, it needed to be good. It needed to wow. She realized, alarmed, that Galen had never seen her in actual clothes before, and her anxiety tripled. She found her best dress that she’d worn three times, to two different weddings and again the previous New Year’s Eve, and decided it was her best bet. It still looked good. And she had a feeling if the way Galen looked at her earlier was any indication, she’d be just fine.
An hour and ten minutes after she’d arrived home, Rowan received a text from Galen saying she was out front. A tsunami of nausea unlike anything Rowan had ever experienced threatened to knock her over, and she wanted to vomit. Were these nerves? Had to be. The feeling was too similar to her first days in the OR. Still, she’d never felt like running to the toilet because of a date. This was so incredibly different than everything she’d ever known.
A new BMW idled in front of her apartment building, and Rowan knew it had to be Galen. The cold October air bit at her cheeks, and she was glad she’d managed to find a warm coat before the notorious New England weather unleashed its annual wrath. Galen emerged from the driver’s side and moved to open the door for her.
“This is what people do on a date, right?” Galen said, teasing her.
“You’re doing great so far.” Rowan would have been lying if she said she didn’t notice the wafting of Galen’s cologne and the shape of her body under her long, tailored wool jacket. She had been raised on fairy tales—Cinderella, Snow White, all of them. But Rowan always thought Prince Charming was bullshit. Yet there she was. Instead of a carriage was a BMW. Rowan’s glass slippers were just Macy’s specials. And she sure as hell wouldn’t be home by midnight. But there she was.
A special favor called into Jody Adams at Porto landed Galen the best table in the restaurant, complete with a bottle of a rich red wine waiting for them.
“Show-off,” Rowan said, when Galen dropped her name to the hostess.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Rowan wove her arm through Galen’s. “It’s perfect,” she mumbled. But she was sure Galen had heard her.
Dinner was everything Galen had promised. And after she’d eaten the best meal she could ever remember having, Rowan finished her third glass of wine and leaned forward contentedly on her hands. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. But the night isn’t over yet.”
“Oh, it’s not?” Rowan kicked off one of her heels and slid her foot under the table, rubbing Galen’s leg slowly.
“I mean, I hope not. Come home with me.”
“That’s very forward of you, Dr. Burgess. But I’m going to go ahead and say, ‘Check please.’”
Galen immediately flagged down the server, argued briefly when Rowan tried to pay, and signed the bill, nearly yanking Rowan by the hand out of the restaurant.
During the entire ride back to Galen’s apartment, Rowan couldn’t stay off her. She was like a teenager, her hormones completely soliciting the actions of her hands and her body. She stroked her palm up Galen’s thigh, and at every red light she leaned over to kiss her ears, her face, whatever she could get ahold of. Galen didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Rowan was sure she felt her driving faster the closer they got to home. “You’re killing me, you know that, Duncan?”
“What do you mean?” Rowan batted her eyelashes as innocently as she could.
“I mean, if we don’t get back to my place in about two seconds, I’m going to have to take you right here in the front seat of my car.”
Rowan would have had Galen in the car, or anywhere else, really. But she was pleased when they arrived at Galen’s building a few excruciating minutes later.
Neither of them spoke. Both were too determined to get inside and up the two flights of stairs to Galen’s apartment. When Galen finally opened the door, a huge, furry beast that Rowan immediately recognized as the infamous Suzie bounded around the corner and jumped on them.
“Down, girl,” Galen commanded her. “Heel.” The massive dog panted wildly but did as she was told, sitting obediently at Galen’s feet. “Good girl. Now, Suzie, I’d like you to meet Rowan. Ro, meet my leading lady, Suzie.”
Rowan crouched and rubbed Suzie’s head with both hands. “Hello there, Suzie. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“She was at my sister’s last time you were here. She takes care of her a lot when I get busy at work. I just have to take her outside really quickly, okay? I promise, it’ll be just a minute.”
“Take all the time you need,” Rowan said, placing her hands on Galen’s hips and kissing her slowly. “But also, hurry back.”
While Galen took care of Suzie, Rowan wandered around the apartment. She picked up a handblown vase off one of the side tables that probably cost more than her college tuition, but put it down when she noticed a framed photo sitting in the corner near the television. It was old, but it clearly showed Galen, standing with her two sisters, her mother, and Dr. Burgess Senior. Galen wore a cap and gown adorned with sashes and pins that undoubtedly represented numerous honors she’d earned. Everyone in the photograph was smiling, happy. Rowan stared at it for a long time. She’d been with Brian for years. Marrying him was expected, the logical next step. But she’d never really been able to picture what a life with him would look like. As she grew lost in the photo in front of her, she could so easily see a life with Galen—a house, two successful surgical careers, a couple of kids, holidays with the Burgess sisters. All of it. The prospect terrified Rowan. Too soon, she told herself. Too much, too soon. But the vision was so clearly there she could almost see it in its own picture frame, right in front of her.
“That was the last time my father told me he was proud of me.” Galen and Suzie had snuck in so quietly Rowan hadn’t noticed. Either that, or Rowan had been so consumed by her white-picket-fence fantasy that she hadn’t heard them.
“It’s a great picture of all of you.”
“That was my graduation from Yale. Undergrad, obviously. 4.0 GPA. Salutatorian. The works. My acceptance to Harvard was in the bag, and Henry Burgess looked at me and said, ‘You did well, Galen.’ Last time I ever heard that. First time, too, actually.” Galen’s face fell a little, and Rowan turned from the photo and made her way toward her.
“You know what I think?” She placed both of her palms on Galen’s strong chest and smiled. “You are the smartest, most talented, most tenacious and charming human being I’ve ever met, including your father. His perceived disapproval is only a reflection on him, not on you.”
Galen kissed her with what felt like an undertone of gratitude, and once again images of a future overwhelmed her. “You are amazing. Did you know that?”
“No. But you can tell me any time you like.” Galen took Rowan in her arms more forcefully, holding her around the waist in a way that made Rowan feel both wanted and needed. She realized in that moment that the two things were not one and the same. Not at all. “Will you please take me to bed now?”
Her question was met by another kiss, until Galen broke free and led her down the hall to her bedroom.
“God, you’re gorgeous.” Galen watched as Rowan slowly, deliberately slid her hands up her stomach and underneath her shirt, grazing her breasts with her fingertips as she did. Galen was swallowing nervously. Much to her surprise, never once had Rowan worried that she was too inexperienced for Galen when it came to sex, or just being with women in general. It all felt so easy. Besides, she didn’t think of Galen as “female” or “male.” She was just this person—this incredible, brilliant, sexy person—that Rowan was already falling helplessly in love with.
* * *
Galen had never been one for sleepovers. She could count on one hand the number of girls she’d actually spent the night with, and it was usually only when she couldn’t find a reasonable escape route. Yet, for the second morning in a row, she woke up next to Rowan, this time in her own bed. The mere idea of it all should have frightened her into running full speed out the door. But it didn’t.
It was still dark when the alarm clock on her cell phone went off, but Galen had already been up for several minutes. For a moment, it was just another morning, just another five am, another day grinding her life away in the OR. But a warm body next to her reminded her that this was not just another morning. Rowan was still asleep, wearing only Galen’s old Yale T-shirt and her panties. Galen remembered the night before, in the call room. She could get far too used to waking up to that sleeping face every morning.
The unpleasant buzzing of the alarm finally roused Rowan, who opened her eyes and immediately smiled at Galen. Galen knew that expression. She’d seen it on girls before.
“What’s that look?” Galen asked her, closing what little space was left between them and curling her arm over Rowan’s body.
“What look?”
“That look. That’s your smitten face, isn’t it?”
Rowan sneered at her, but a smile hid underneath. “I don’t have a smitten look. You must be mistaken.”
“Liar. And do you know how I can recognize it?”
“All of the bazillion girls you’ve made fall in love with you over the years?” Rowan flicked her eyebrows sarcastically.
“No. I’m trying to have a moment here. Will you shut up and let me?”
“Okay, fine. How can you recognize this look I supposedly gave you, Galen?”
“Because it’s the same one I’ve given you over the last couple of days.”
Rowan blushed and looked up at the ceiling. “You are annoyingly charming. Did you know that?”
“That’s the goal.”