Not Pretending Anymore by Vi Keeland

 

 

 

CHAPTER 9


Molly

“Someone’s in a good mood at 2AM.”

Will’s voice caught me off guard. It was Sunday night, and I hadn’t seen him in the last few days. I didn’t think he was even on call tonight. Daisy and I were sitting at the nurses’ station. She was busy entering notes into a patient’s electronic chart, and I was busy goofing off on my phone—texting with Declan about the ironing he had for me to do in exchange for the leftovers I’d stolen today.

“She smiles all the time lately,” Daisy said. “Can’t say I blame her after getting a look at her new guy.”

Oh…Will had been referring to me with his comment? I hadn’t realized I’d been smiling while texting.

Will glanced down at my phone and frowned. “Do you have a minute, Molly?”

I tucked my cell into the pocket of my scrubs and stood. “Sure, of course.”

As we walked down the hall together, Will filled me in on a patient who was on her way in. The woman was pregnant with triplets, and her labor had started too early. So he’d come in on his day off to try to stop the labor. Together we prepped an exam room, making sure we had the medications he would need, and then we reviewed the patient’s history together. When we were done, Will looked at his watch.

“Mrs. Michaels was about an hour out when I spoke to her, so we have another twenty minutes or so until she gets here. It’s probably going to be a very long night. Do you want to grab some coffee?”

“Sure.”

In the break room, the coffee pot was empty.

“I’ll make us a fresh batch,” I said.

Will leaned a hip against the counter while I rinsed the glass pot and measured the grounds and water to make the new one.

“So…” he said. “How are things going?”

His question was vague, but I got the feeling he was asking about something specific.

“Good. How about you?”

“Pretty good.” He paused for a few awkward seconds. “So…things with the new guy… I guess they’re going well if you’re smiling all the time.”

I shrugged. “I guess. It’s still pretty new, and we want to keep it casual.”

He scratched his chin. “It’s funny; I wouldn’t have taken you for an open-relationship type of person.”

“No? How come?”

“I don’t know. You’re just a very loyal, levelheaded person. More serious, I guess.”

“Well, I like to keep my options open.”

He was quiet while I poured us each a mug of coffee. I knew Will took his with cream and sugar, so I prepped it before handing it to him. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He sipped his coffee and continued to watch me over the brim. “Have you tried that new Greek place over on Amsterdam Ave?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t. But I pass it on my way home, and it seems to be packed all the time.”

“Would you want to go Friday night?”

For some reason, I assumed he meant with the group—before happy hour. “That sounds great. Who else is going?”

Will smiled sheepishly. “Just me…”

“Oh…” I shook my head. “I thought you meant with the happy-hour crew.”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “And here I was thinking I was being so smooth.”

“You were… I mean, I think you were. Are you asking me to go to dinner, like on a date?”

He chuckled. “I guess I’m so slippery smooth that my intentions just sailed right by you. Yes, Molly, I’m asking you on a date.”

“Oh.” My pulse sped up, and my palms grew sweaty.

“Do you want to change your mind now that that’s clear?”

I shook my head. “No, definitely not. I’d love to go out with you, Will.”

Of course Daisy had to walk into the break room at that exact moment. From the disappointed look on her face, I knew she’d heard what I said.

Will’s phone chimed. Looking at the screen, he said, “It’s the admitting department. Mrs. Michaels has arrived. If she made it here this fast, I’m guessing they had their foot on the gas for a reason. I better run down to make sure they don’t hold her up filling out fifty-seven HIPAA forms. I’ll see you in a bit.”

I smiled. “Okay.”

The minute Will walked out of the break room, Daisy put her hands on her hips.

“Oh my God. Will, too? You already have that other sexy beast of a man. Now you’re going to go out with Dr. McHottie?”

I chuckled. “I guess so.”

“Are you going to keep both of them?”

“I’m not sure that’s my decision, considering they’re humans, and I don’t own them.”

Daisy rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, if you dump the first guy… Can I have his number?”

I shook my head and walked to the break room door. “Goodbye, Daisy.”

She grumbled under her breath. “Greedy.”

Declan had been up late working on a project for his client. Since we’d been texting less than a half hour ago, I figured he’d still be up.

Molly: I have big news!

The response came almost immediately.

Declan: You stole someone’s Tupperware from the break room at work and got caught. Now I have to come bail you out of jail, don’t I?

Always the wiseass. I chuckled as I typed.

Molly: Nope, bigger! Will asked me out!

The little dots started to jump around, then stopped. Then started again. Then stopped yet again. It was a solid five minutes before I received another message. And this one made it clear we were done chatting for the evening.

Declan: That’s great. I’m glad you got what you wanted. Goodnight, Molly.

It was definitely odd for him to cut off a text exchange like that. For a split second, I wondered if maybe something about that announcement upset him. But that was ludicrous, right? God, it was the freaking middle of the night, and he’d been working late. He was probably tired. That had to have been why he said goodnight so suddenly.

***

The following evening, Declan was at the office, and I was home alone when there was a knock at the door.

A woman in a Yankees cap held a large white box. “Hi. Cake delivery for Scooter?”

I squinted. “Scooter? We don’t have anyone here by the name of Scooter.”

“Well, this is the right address, so I’m gonna leave it here with you.”

“Uh…okay.” I took the cake and shut the door with my foot.

There was a note on the top of the box. I opened it.

Scooter,

 

Happy Birthday! Wish we could be there with you!

 

Love,

Your sisters, Samantha, Meagan, Catherine, and Jane

Birthday? It was Declan’s birthday? Furthermore, his sisters called him Scooter?

I took out my phone and immediately texted him.

Molly: How come you didn’t tell me it was your birthday?

Declan: How did you find out?

Molly: Your sisters sent you a cake.

Declan: Uh-oh. What does it have on it?

Molly: I haven’t opened the box. The note is addressed to Scooter!

Declan: Great. Don’t open it yet. I’ll be home in half an hour.

***

When Declan walked in, I greeted him with a glare. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

He threw his jacket on a chair. “It’s no big deal. It’s just another day. My sisters always make a fuss. If I were home in California, they’d be bombarding my apartment and making a big deal out of nothing. They do it every year.” He undid his tie. “Did you take a peek at the cake?”

“No. You said not to.”

Declan went to the fridge and took out the box. I leaned against the counter, eagerly awaiting my view of the cake. He opened the lid and shook his head before facing the cake toward me.

I covered my mouth in laughter. It featured a photo of the most awkward-looking little boy with crooked teeth and a bowl cut. It vaguely looked like a young Declan. Happy Birthday, Scooter was written on top.

“Oh my goodness! That’s you?”

“They always get a cake made with the worst photos of me. Last year, it was just my fat baby butt. This year, my first-grade class picture takes the cake. Pun intended.”

It was funny to think such a goofy-looking boy had turned into such an Adonis.

“Wow. You look so…different.”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

He opened the drawer and grabbed two forks, handing me one. Declan dug into the center of his face on the cake and took a bite. “At least it’s good,” he said with his mouth full. “Try it.”

“Not as good as your cupcakes, but yeah,” I said after sampling. “So where does the name Scooter come from?”

“I was waiting for you to ask that.” He wiped some frosting off his bottom lip. “Well, you know I’m the youngest and the only boy. I used to follow my sisters around the neighborhood on my scooter, like a little pet. So, all the neighborhood kids would call me Scooter. It stuck, and my sisters started using the nickname, too.”

“It must have been something being the only boy in that house, huh?”

Declan nodded. “They gave me a lot of shit growing up, but I wouldn’t trade it. I think having sisters makes me a better man. I don’t think I could relate to women in the same way if I hadn’t had sisters. I’ve witnessed a lot—their hurt over guys, the challenges they’ve had to face in being seen as equals in things like competitive sports. Even though I’m the little brother, I’m very protective of them.”

That squeezed my heart. “That’s so sweet.”

“At the same time, I’m pretty sure any one of them, especially Sister Catherine, could still kick my ass any day.”

Still being the operative word. Meaning it’s happened multiple times?”

“Yup.” He sighed.

“I would so pay to see that.” I laughed.

Declan swiped a chunk of frosting off of his bowl cut and smeared it on the tip of my nose. We both started cracking up. I was relieved. Despite him ending our texts abruptly last night, it seemed things were all good between us.