School blew in like the first snowstorm of the year. First, a joyous run through the blinding white flakes, catching them on your tongue, and crafting snow angels and snowmen out of the winter wonderland. And then, inevitably, a hard freezing blizzard that crushed your soul and made you forget that brief moment of happiness.
I was past the blizzard and onto the dirty slush as my feet tromped through what had once been an idyllic beauty.
This rotation was with radiology. Next was anesthesia. I was really not looking forward to either, but I knew that I needed both to become the kind of emergency medicine doctor that I’d always dreamed of. I’d done two monthlong rotations in emergency medicine, and I was working on getting a broader base of knowledge with my electives. Especially after spending months on the other core fields on medicine. I hadn’t minded family medicine, which Cézanne was specializing in despite everyone wanting to push her into surgery, but pediatrics had been my least favorite. As an ER doctor, I knew that I’d have to deal with sick kids, but I hated seeing them. It was too hard not to imagine Aly or Madison or Jason all day. That had been the hardest rotation by far last semester.
I shuddered, thinking about it, as I pushed out of the hospital and toward my car. I blinked up at the dark sky overhead. Was it really that late?
I checked my phone to see that it was already six o’clock, but the damn winter made it seem so much later. Thanks, daylight saving time.
The other benefit of checking my phone was that I had a message from Jordan.
Any interest in trying the whites tonight?
A smile touched my features before exhaustion won out. As much as I’d love to do that, I couldn’t. I needed sustenance and then to study for boards. No wine for me tonight.
I didn’t have the energy to respond. So, I dialed his number as I got into my car.
“Hey there,” he said.
I could hear typing on the other end of the line. As if he was still working. Maybe he was still at Wright Construction. He really did work as much as I did.
“Hey. I can’t do wine tonight. I have to study.”
“All right. You could study at my house.”
I put him on speaker as I headed out of the hospital deck. “All my stuff is at my house, and I need to eat something. I only had time for a protein bar for lunch, and now, my stomach is eating itself.”
“I could pick up Chinese on my way home and meet you there. There’s that new place out by my house that has the best lo mein. You like lo mein?”
“Everyone likes lo mein,” I said with a laugh.
“Okay. Let me know what you like, and I’ll put in an order.”
“Jordan, I can’t,” I muttered.
Wasn’t this the point of friends with benefits? That both of us were too busy for a relationship. Didn’t it seem like a relationship to have him pick up dinner for me on his way home?
“It’s just studying, Annie. Your house is still a disaster. Not exactly conducive to getting anything done. And I have plenty of work to keep me occupied all night. I won’t be in your way.”
“It sounds like a date,” I told him.
He paused as if he, too, knew that it sounded like a date. But he only hesitated a moment. The businessman in him had prepared for my dissent. “I used to pick up Chinese for my friend Cush while he was going through medical school in Vancouver. I know how grueling it is, Annie. This is what friends do.”
I chewed on my bottom lip as I pulled into my driveway. My house was a wreck. I’d had trouble already, trying to get work done when contractors kept coming by to get measurements and the landlord was about to rip out all of the hardwood due to the water damage. Plus, Chinese did sound pretty amazing.
A lingering part of me said that I should be mad at Jordan. The last three years had been rocky between us at best, openly hostile at worst. It was strange to want to ditch my own house for his mansion and peace and quiet. I wasn’t even thinking about the sex. Okay, maybe just a little.
But giving in felt like an admission. Maybe just staying home was the right idea.
“Nah, I’ll pass. Thanks for the offer though.”
“All right,” he said, carefully masking what sounded like disappointment. “I’m about to leave the office. Text me if you change your mind.”
I hung up and stepped into my own house. I’d made the right decision. I was sure of it. We weren’t dating. I wasn’t going to go over to his house for no reason. After I’d slept over twice this weekend.
A yawn broke free as I pushed into the living room. Sleep always got harder once the semester started.
Last semester, I’d taken much of November and December off from rotations for all of my interviews. It was a whirlwind of residency programs. I didn’t get to see much of any one city, except the cab ride from the airport and the inside of the hospitals, which all looked the same. I’d lost more sleep from interviewing than from rotations, and I still hadn’t caught up. Even with a few weeks ostensibly off.
Jennifer was editing images on the small breakfast nook table, which was cluttered with her equipment. I frowned. Definitely no space for me to get to work. Fuck.
“Hey, Jen,” I said. “How’s editing?”
“The grueling part of the job,” she said as she clicked incessantly in Photoshop.
“Are you even halfway through last weekend’s wedding?”
She shook her head. “Nope,” she said and then glanced up at me with a smile. The top half of her blonde bob was in a bun, and her hazel eyes glittered with excitement. This was the Jennifer that I adored. Completely unassuming, full of joy, and confident in her abilities. But when she stepped out of her circle of confidence in photography was when she fell apart. She’d had anxiety her entire life, and while it was managed, she still slipped when she got into uncomfortable situations. Like…Julian Wright.
“But it’s okay. I had the most beautiful bride, and Evan was second shooter. So, we had a great time.”
I smiled inwardly. She didn’t realize that her second shooter, Evan, was totally into her. Not that I intended to point it out.
“I’m glad you did,” I said as I retreated to my room.
My body sagged when I looked at my once-beautiful room and the mess it was now. The warped boards, the damage to the baseboards, the empty closet, a few Amazon boxes scattered around the room. I’d had to order new shoes for my upcoming interviews, and I might have gone overboard. As with everything. Suddenly, it all felt like too much. There was no way that I was going to get any work done.
I slung my backpack down on the bed and thought about screaming.
One bad day, and I’d had to suffer the consequences for months. I opted for a quick shower, towel-drying my messy red hair and pulling it up into a neat ponytail. Then I started packing a bag.
I wasn’t sure when I’d decided to go to Jordan’s, but suddenly, I was on his doorstep with a change of clothes and my backpack. I rang the doorbell.
Jordan appeared a minute later, opening the door cautiously. He was still in his suit. He must have just gotten home. Considering it was an hour later than when we’d talked, he must have stayed even later at work after I declined.
His eyebrows shot up. “Annie.” He slipped the door open wider. “Come in.”
“I should have texted,” I said automatically, twirling the claddagh ring around my finger.
“You’re in luck. I ordered enough Chinese for a family of four. There was a special.”
I laughed softly, staring around at his mansion and marveling that someone with that much money still appreciated specials. “Sesame chicken?” I asked hopefully.
“That’s my favorite,” he said, shutting the door. “So definitely.”
I exhaled softly. “Well, great. I like Mongolian beef, too.”
“Also included in my family pack,” he said, following me into the kitchen.
“Jesus,” I whispered.
A dozen little white Chinese boxes were spread out like a feast. He hadn’t been kidding about enough for a family of four.
“Pick your poison,” he offered.
After loading up a plate with sesame chicken, Mongolian beef, lo mein, fried rice, and two egg rolls, I retreated to the enormous dining room table. My eyes widened with relief. Nothing like the tiny space I’d been using the last three years. I could probably fit all of my notes here.
I set my plate down and dug out my computer, books, and notes. Jordan ate silently across from me, scrolling leisurely on his iPad.
“What are you working on?” I asked him after downing half of my plate in a feverish haze of hunger.
“Soccer complex,” he muttered, not taking his eyes from the screen.
My heart skipped. Isaac had told me about this, but it had slipped my mind. Wright Construction had gotten the contract to build an outdoor stadium for a new soccer team coming to Lubbock. It was our first professional sports team, and everyone was pretty excited. My brother was especially excited to be the on-ground project manager.
“What do you have to do for that?”
Jordan glanced up once with an amused look on his face. “I thought you had to study.”
I glowered at him. “I do.”
“Why’d you decide to show up?”
“Free food.”
He snorted. “Doubtful.”
“Jennifer is using the table for edits, and my room is still a mess from the flood,” I admitted. “I was worried that I wouldn’t get anything done.”
“So, here and not the library?”
I gestured to the Chinese food again with a smirk. “Like I said, free food.”
“I’m doing everything for the soccer complex,” he admitted. “I was the one who reached out to the team to suggest a site to build.”
“Whoa,” I whispered. I hadn’t known that. “How did you know they were looking?”
He smirked. “That’s half my job. I can do all the things that Morgan and Austin and David do, but my strength really lies in making connections, pinpointing new contracts, and negotiations.”
“Huh. Like how you convinced me to study here.”
He managed to look smug instead of sheepish. “If you get the studying done, then does it matter?”
I laughed. “Mildly manipulative.”
“It’s not…manipulating. It’s negotiations, love,” he said with a wink and then returned to his scrolling.
I just shook my head at him and went back to my own work. I didn’t mind the “negotiations.” Not really. This was actually peaceful, and I felt locked into my work. Soon, the Chinese was cold and forgotten, and I was deep, deep into my studies. My eyes could barely stay open by the time I looked up from my stupor.
“Oh God, is it already midnight?” I muttered, rubbing my hands over my eyes.
Jordan had retreated to the couch at some point and was typing furiously into his laptop. “It is.”
I yawned. “I should head home.”
“Take the guest bedroom.”
I closed my laptop and walked around to where he was sitting. His dark eyes drifted up to mine, and he quirked an eyebrow in question.
“Are you going to bed?”
He shrugged. “Soon.”
A part of me knew that I should go to the guest bedroom. I’d seen it before. It was lush and probably nicer than my own bed anyway. But he’d done exactly what he’d said he’d do. He’d gotten Chinese and left me to study. I felt better prepared for tomorrow than I had in weeks…maybe months. We’d been…friends. Just like he’d said. I’d been skeptical, and he’d proven me wrong.
I reached out for his laptop, moving it to the coffee table. Then I straddled him, settling my weight down onto him. His hands moved to my waist and slid to my hips.
“This is not studying,” he teased.
“It’s late,” I reminded him before my lips dipped to his.
He kissed me back hungrily, as if he’d barely restrained himself from kissing me all evening. The control behind that kiss revealed everything I needed to know. He wanted the benefits from this arrangement as much as the friends. And he was willing to forgo this to make me comfortable.
“Come to bed,” I murmured against his lips.
He didn’t need to be told twice. He stood, lifting me into the air. I wrapped my arms and legs tight around him, and then he walked me to his bedroom. No guest bedroom necessary after all.