Not Pretending Anymore(9)
“No.”
“Alright, Molly. Whatever you say…”
Now he was just pacifying me. “Don’t say alright, Molly . You’re making me sound rigid. But I’m not. I didn’t say I wouldn’t eat breakfast at night if the opportunity presented itself. It just hasn’t. That’s all.”
“Okay. Sorry if I upset you.”
I’d effectively killed the mood. What had started as a fun morning had now turned into breakfast in silence. By the time we were done eating, I felt like a giant ass.
“That was really delicious. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
Declan forced a smile. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. You went to all this trouble, and I jumped down your throat. It won’t happen again.”
He smirked. “Oh yes it will. I tend to say things that should probably be kept to myself. So it most definitely will be happening again.”
I chuckled. “Okay. Well, maybe you can work on that, and I’ll work on not snapping at you so easily.”
“Sounds good, Mollz. You have any plans for today? You’re off, right?”
I picked up my plate and started to clear the table. “Yeah, I’m off. I worked three twelve-hour shifts in a row, so now I’m off for a couple of days. Though I don’t have any big plans really. Today I’m going to go food shopping and to the dry cleaner. And then later I’m meeting some friends from work at happy hour. I mentioned it last night.”
“That’s right. Tonight you’re seeing Doc in the Box.”
“Do you mean Will? He works at the hospital with me, not one of those roadside urgent-care places.”
“Oh, I know. But he’s an OB, right?”
“Yes…but…. Ohh , doc in the box. ” I chuckled. “Cute.”
Declan and I cleaned up the kitchen together. I loaded the dishwasher while he put away all of the things he’d used to cook, cleaned the kitchen table, and wiped down the stovetop. When we were both done, I dried my hands on a towel before blotting at my wet shirt. The damn kitchen faucet had a leak that sprayed whenever the water was turned on more than a trickle. I’d had a piece of electrical tape wrapped around the neck as a temporary fix, but it must’ve fallen off.
Tossing the dishtowel on the counter, I looked up and found Declan staring. I quickly realized why. Last night I’d slept in a white T-shirt and no bra, and now the top half of my shirt was completely see-through. Not only that, the wetness was cold against my skin, so my nipples were fully erect, practically piercing through my invisible shirt.
Folding my arms, I attempted to cover up. “The…uh…water faucet sprays a bit.”
Declan’s eyes lifted to meet mine. He swallowed and cleared his throat before looking away. “I’ll take care of it today.”
“Oh. It’s okay. It’s been that way for a while. I can just call the super again. You don’t have to fix it.”
He grumbled. “Yeah, I do. I absolutely freaking do.”
***
Later that evening, I was a little disappointed that Declan hadn’t been home before I left for happy hour. I’d gotten myself more done-up than usual, and could’ve used his bluntness to find out if I looked like I was trying too hard. I mean, I was , but I didn’t want it to look that way.
My four outfit changes had made me late, so most people were already at McBride’s when I arrived. Noticeably absent was whatshername, who usually came to happy hour to hang on Will’s arm. Feeling unusually nervous, I walked straight to the bar and stood next to Daisy, a new physician’s assistant. I’d met her a few times on the unit, but this was the first time she’d come to one of our twice-a-month meetups.
“Hey,” I said. “I’m glad you came.”
“Hey, Molly.” She did a quick sweep over my outfit. “I love that green on you. You look so different without scrubs and a ponytail.”
I smiled, now glad I’d made that last wardrobe change and sprung for a professional blowout this afternoon. The emerald color of my silk blouse was a bit bold for me, especially against my pale skin and dark hair. But I’d paired it with dark jeans and simple wedges to try to keep it casual. “Thank you. You look really nice, too.”
The bartender walked over and set down a napkin in front of me. “Hey, Molly. How’s it going? What can I get for you today?”
“Hey, Patrick. I’ll have a Stoli vanilla and ginger ale, please.”
He nodded. “You got it. Coming right up.”
“Mmm…” Daisy said. “That’s the drink that tastes like a cream soda, isn’t it?”
“It is. You want one?”
She looked at the bottle of beer in her hand, which was almost empty. “Sure. Why not?”
I looked at the bartender. “Can you make that two? And hers is on me.”
“You want to start a tab?”
“Yes, please.”
After Patrick walked away to make our drinks, Daisy said, “You didn’t have to do that. But thank you.”
I smiled. “No problem. So tell me how you like being at Chicago General? How long has it been now? Has to be almost a month already, right?”
She nodded. “Five weeks, actually. I really like it. Not that I have too much to compare it to. This is my first job after graduating. Some of the doctors can be really intimidating.”