Hope on the Rocks (Rainbow Cove)

“Fuck. Fuck,” I roared into the silent night air, but it didn’t help much. “Nope. Still angry. I keep going over and over what happened. What I could have done differently. Maybe nothing.”

“You’re a good doctor.” Adam grabbed my hand again as we continued on toward my place. “I know you did all you could.”

“I did.” I slumped next to my door, letting the frame hold me up a moment before I unlocked it. “And it wasn’t enough today. I’m spoiled by all our easy days.”

“You are not.” He steered me into the condo, flipping on a light as we went.

“Yeah, I am.” I could admit that. He was being kind, but I had plenty of friends who dealt with patients dying on a daily, sometimes hourly basis. “I practice in a specialty where days like this are rare. Most weeks are full of sprains and strep tests and referrals. I like that, racking up the small wins.”

“You always wanted to be a general practice-type doctor?” he asked as he led me toward the couch. I flopped down, ending up slumped against him.

“Yes. It’s silly, but I did. I had a lot of ear infections as a kid, and we were always at our family doctor. He’d always ask how I was doing in school.” My voice turned fond. Despite a sprawling extended family, my parents weren’t particularly close to any of the relatives, and our doctor had felt like another uncle while being far warmer than my own distant father. “I had some major hero worship going on, and he was the first person to say that if I was so smart and got such good grades, maybe I could be a doctor.”

“You are a smart one, that’s for sure.” Adam tugged me closer with an arm around my shoulders. “And you also work damn hard. You should be proud of all you’ve achieved.”

“Thanks. After Dr. Piper said I could be a doctor, I started to see that as a goal for me. And then in high school, I got a big win, so to speak.” My voice was distant, my mind transported to a day so crystal clear in my memories that I could still smell the honeysuckle in the yard. “I was CPR certified from a medical explorer program I did, and when this friend of my dad’s collapsed on our back patio with a heart issue, I was the one to save him with CPR until the ambulance arrived. I liked that feeling.”

“That’s amazing. And you’ve saved a lot of people. Probably more than you even know.” Adam squeezed my shoulders. “Because of you, Mom’s on blood pressure and cholesterol meds now. No big dramatic heart scare—thank God—but you spotting her symptoms probably made a difference down the road.”

“I hope so.” I leaned into him, letting my head fall against his. His beard prickled against my skin, comforting in its familiarity. I liked knowing I’d helped. His mom was a great person, and having made a little difference in her health was a win.

“Today still sucked though.” Holding me close, he dropped a kiss to my forehead. “And I’m so sorry you had to go through that, baby. I know all the wins in the world can’t make up for one bad loss.”

“I appreciate that.” I inhaled slowly, drinking in all of Adam’s usual woodsy scent, his nearness, and his realness. And his mouth was right there, a life raft to seize before the weight of all my heavy emotions pulled me under. I kissed him because he was there, warm and willing. But more than that, he was the guy who had come for me, walked on the beach with me, put up with my silence, and all that kindness was a weight too. Kissing him was easy, so easy, and so preferable to letting myself drown in my feelings.

Unusual for him, he let me lead, let be the one to kiss him softly at first, then harder and with desperate purpose. My tongue sought his, the friction and slide enough to keep me floating that much longer. Today still sucked. The more we kissed, the more I expected to outrace that reality, but I couldn’t seem to quite escape my own racing mind. Not for lack of trying though.

“What do you need?” Adam whispered, cupping my face with a tenderness I almost couldn’t bear. Luckily, I didn’t have to. I could run from his soft expression and gentle hands and ready comfort, retreat to the distraction of sex and the games we played.

“This, Daddy.” I reached for his belt.

“Hey.” He stilled my hands before I could accomplish my task. “What do you need, Quinn? Not what you think I need or want. Not what you wish you were up for. What do you need?”

Fuck. Had anyone truly asked me that before? I wasn’t sure, and all his unending niceness, his innate goodness was going to be my undoing.