Page 23 of Intersect
“I am,” I admit. “I’m justconcerned—”
“Of course you’re concerned!” she shouts. “You’ve only dated him for a fuckingweek!”
“That’s not what bothers me,” I reply. There are things I’ve been keeping from her and Trevor, but it’s gotten to the point that I need to come clean. I’m no longer optimistic Nick and I are going to discover some magical cure. “It’s mostly that it’s not fair to him, because I have—” I stop to take a deep breath. “I have a braintumor.”
Caroline’s ever-present insouciance fades. “What?” she whispers. “If this is some kind of joke it’s notfunny.”
My eyes shift away from hers. “It’s not a joke. I’ve known for a few weeks, but I didn’t want to mention it because I was worried you and Trevor would treat me differently. And I was sort of hoping I’d find acure.”
She stares at her knees, her cheeks sucked in hard. “I guess you didn’t, then, if you’re telling me now,” she finally says in a tinyvoice.
My heart aches. She’s been my best friend for a decade. I wish I’d found a better way to break the news. “Right. Ididn’t.”
She presses her fingers to her temples. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” Her voice is barelyaudible.
“I didn’t want everyone being upset and serious and talking in hushed voices, reminding me something’s wrong. I want you and Trevor to continue to be assholes whether I’m dying ornot.”
She heaves a sigh and throws her head back against the cushions, looking at the ceiling instead of me with eyes that are suspiciously bright. “I promise I’ll go back to being an asshole. Just give me aminute.”
I wait for her to pull herself together. “This is bullshit, Quinn,” she says through a raspy voice. “You’re finally going back to school and you’ve jettisoned your loser fiancé and…this is justbullshit.”
My throat tightens a little. I sort of agree, but I’m realizing life really doesn’t work out like the movies do. Sometimes things are unfair, and they just remain unfair. “But you see the issue,” I finally continue. “Nick should be finding someone he can have a future with, and that person might not be me. It probablyshouldn’tbe me, given that it could impact hisjob.”
“He’s a big boy,” she says dismissively. “Just think about if the positions were reversed: if he had the tumor, would you want to be moving on, or would you just want to capture every day with him youcould?”
I know the answer in my very bones without even considering it. I’d want to capture every day and I’d be in agony if he wouldn’t allow me to do it. “I’d want to be with him,” I admit. “But even with that, I’m still scared. This won’t make sense, but I just feel like I might…care about him toomuch.”
“That is literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, aside from a minute ago when you said you were going to move in with a guy you just met. You might care about himtoo much? What does that evenmean?”
I curl into myself. “I don’t know.” I really don’t. I only know it feels dangerous somehow to get even closer to him than I alreadyam.
Caroline shakes her head. “I can’t believe I’m encouraging this, because I think it’s fucking insane, but you’ve spent most of your life coweringand—”
“I haven’t beencowering,” Iargue.
She arches a brow. “Really, Quinn? Dropping out of college because your mom was a mess? Getting back together with Jeff just because he quit his job to follow you here? For whatever reason, you have been shying away from greatness your entire life. So tell me something: how’s that worked out foryou?”
My arms fold across my chest. I can’t really argue. I just hate what she’s saying. “Not especiallywell.”
“No, it’s worked out fuckingterribly. So I say if something you want scares the hell out of you, go for it. Because the other way isn’tworking.”
8
QUINN
The following afternoon, Nick steps into one door of the imaging waiting room just as I emerge from the other. Despite his sweet, lopsided grin, he looks more like an Olympic athlete about to take over a press conference than a doctor collecting a patient. My eyes move straight from his face to his shirt to his belt, cataloguing what I’d like to remove in preciseorder.
“Escorting me back to your office?” I ask under my breath. “Don’t you have people for thispart?”
For just a moment he allows the back of his hand to tap the base of my spine before it falls away. “Yes, Miss Stewart, I do,” he says quietly. “But there are a few patients I escort from imagingpersonally.”
I glance up at him. “The ones you’re moving inwith?”
His smile lifts high on one side and I get a glimpse of that dimple I love. “Yes. Those. The agent is meeting us atfive.”
He holds the elevator open for me and I walk in, shaking my head. I looked at the listings he forwarded. They’re way too expensive. I knew housing in Georgetown was insane, but I didn’t know it wasthisinsane. “I could pay four months of my mortgage for the rent on a fixer-upper here. We should just look atapartments.”
He bends toward me and his laughter brushes my ear, husky and warm. “I am a neurologist with no kids and no debt and nothing I would like to blow my money on more thanthis.”