Maybe Now (Maybe #2)(80)

I eventually pull back and look down on him. Everything he just said makes me want to lower my head again, but this time I want to lower it so that my mouth is positioned right against his. I refrain, though. Somehow.

He inhales and loses some of the smile in his eyes, trading it for a more serious expression. His hands slide up and then back down my arms. “I came back to the hospital to see you Saturday, but you were already gone,” he admits.

I close my eyes briefly. I wondered if he showed back up.

I don’t want to admit to him that I left before I should have. But I don’t want to lie to him, or even omit the truth. “I left Friday night. Before they discharged me.” I look him in the eyes, needing to explain myself before he passes judgment. “I know you’re a doctor and you’re going to tell me it was a stupid move, but I already know that. I just couldn’t take being there for another second.”

He stares back at me for a quiet moment, but he doesn’t look angry or annoyed. He just shakes his head softly. “I get it. I have patients who practically live in hospitals, and I know how draining it is, both emotionally and physically. Sometimes I want to look the other way and tell them to run because I know how much they don’t want to be there.”

I have no immediate reply to that because it’s not a reaction I’m used to. I love that he didn’t scold me just now. But I’m sure he sees patients with all different levels of frustration, so it would make sense that he’d be more empathetic than disapproving.

Jake lifts a hand to my hair and twists his fingers in a few strands of it. He stares at my hair as it slides through his fingers. When our eyes meet again, I can tell he’s about to kiss me. His eyes drop briefly to my mouth. But I can’t allow that until I explain to him the real reason for most of my nerves today.

“I need to tell you something,” I say. I’m hesitant to bring it up, but he’s here, and he’s about to meet everyone, and he needs to know what he’s getting into. He looks back at me patiently as I continue. “This is Ridge’s apartment. My ex-boyfriend that I told you about on our date?”

Jake gives no hint of a response in his expression, so I continue, glancing away from him and down at our hands. I lace our fingers together. “Ridge and his girlfriend Sydney are going with us today. So are Warren and Bridgette, who are the other two roommates here. You’ll meet them all in a little while. I just… It’s why I wanted you to come to my room before meeting them, so if our history is brought up today, you won’t be caught off guard.” I make eye contact with him again, releasing a pent-up breath. “Does that bother you?”

Jake doesn’t answer right away. I don’t blame him, so I give him a moment to process everything I just said. It’s a weird situation that I probably shouldn’t have put him in.

“Does it bother you?” he asks, squeezing my hands.

I shake my head. “We’re friends now. I really like Sydney. I feel like all of us are exactly where we need to be, but after I invited you here, I became paranoid that maybe I shouldn’t have. I don’t want it to be awkward.”

Jake lifts a hand, sliding it against my cheek. His fingers graze the back of my head as he looks at me intently. “If it doesn’t bother you, then it doesn’t bother me,” he says with finality.

His quick acceptance makes me smile with relief, even though I fail to tell him that it is very awkward for me.

Sydney is wrong. Some people are the best versions of themselves all the time.

That thought fills me with immediate guilt, because there’s so much more to the situation than what I just admitted to Jake. He has no idea that Warren and Ridge are basically the only family I have. But I don’t want to put too much on him at once. Not until we know for sure that this thing between us might actually go somewhere beyond today. I honestly don’t know that I want it to until he has a clear idea of who I am, but I have no idea where to start. He spent one of my better days with me, but he hasn’t gotten to know all of me yet. He knows I’m spontaneous and indecisive, but what else does he actually know?

“I’m fickle,” I blurt out. “And sometimes I can be selfish.” I know I should shut up, but the blunt honesty feels warranted. He needs to know exactly what he’s dealing with. I don’t want to experience another relationship with someone I’m not completely up front and open with. “I have a rebellious streak that I’m really trying to work on. I sometimes spend entire days binge-watching Netflix in my underwear. I’ve lived alone most of my adult life, so I eat ice cream out of the tub and drink straight out of the milk carton. I’ve never wanted children of my own. I kind of want a cat, but I’m too scared of the responsibility. I love show tunes and Hallmark Christmas movies and I absolutely hate Austin traffic. And I know none of that really matters because we aren’t even dating, but I feel like you should know all those things about me up front.” When I’m finished, I bite my bottom lip nervously, waiting for him to either laugh at me or run. I’d completely understand either reaction.

He reacts in a completely different way than what I expect. He sighs and tilts his head a little, resting our hands against his chest. His thumbs brush back and forth over mine.

“I internalize everything negative that happens at work,” he says. “I need solitude on the really bad days. Sometimes even from Justice. And…I’m messy. I haven’t done dishes in four days or laundry in two weeks. Most doctors are organized and their houses are spotless, but mine is chaotic most of the time. And I probably shouldn’t admit this because I’m a cardiologist, but I love fried food. I’ve watched every episode of Grey’s Anatomy, although I’ll deny it if you ever repeat that. And…I’ve only been with two women, so I don’t even know that I’m all that impressive in bed.”