Maybe Now (Maybe 2)

He rests his hands on my waist. I feel some of the tension leave my shoulders when I realize what he just did. I smile as I’m reminded how patient and kind he is. He returns my smile, and I suddenly feel like melting to the floor again, but not out of embarrassment. Thi

s time I want to melt because he’s so damn perfect, and it’s making me blush.

Also, I can’t help but be relieved that he didn’t show up with a high-heeled French redhead. I exhale. “Thank you. This helps.”

He breaks eye contact and finds my hands, threading his fingers through them. “You’re welcome.”

Now that I’ve relaxed a little, I lower my legs until our thighs are flush together. We’re eye to eye now, and I feel stupid for how nervous I’ve been. I forgot how everything about him is so calming. He’s been a calming presence since the moment we met and I was scared to death to skydive until he sat down next to me fill out my paperwork. His presence is like a sedative, flowing through my veins, taming my thoughts and my worries. In a matter of minutes, the fear in my eyes has been subdued, and now I’m forcing myself not to grin. He makes me feel somewhat giddy, but I don’t want him to know that.

“How was your lecture this morning?” I ask, hoping to direct the subject toward him.

Jake laughs a little. “Justice told me I shouldn’t go into doctor mode when I’m around you. He says I’m boring when I talk about medical stuff.”

That couldn’t be further from the truth. “Our medical talk was the highlight of our date for me. It’s the first time anyone has ever been that interested in the details of my thesis.”

Jake narrows his eyes. “Really?”

I nod. “Yes, really. You probably shouldn’t take dating advice from an eleven-year-old.”

Jake laughs at that. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He brings my hands to his chest and places them there, moving his own hands to the tops of my thighs. “We had a speaker who is about to have a new study published in the Journal of Medical Science. He presented about communication signals between the brain and the heart and what happens when those signals are severed.”

Yeah, Justice is definitely wrong. I absolutely want to hear this. “And?”

Jake leans his head back against the wall again, relaxing a little. He lifts one of my hands off his chest and brings it up between us. “In ancient times, humans believed the heart was at the center of all thought process and that the brain and heart didn’t communicate at all.” He touches my wrist with two gentle fingers. “They believed this, because when you feel an attraction to someone, your brain doesn’t respond in a noticeable way that would suddenly make you aware of that attraction. But the rest of the body does.” Jake begins to move his fingers in a delicate circle over my wrist. I swallow heavily, hoping he doesn’t notice what it’s doing to my pulse.

“The heart is what makes a person most aware of physical attraction. It increases in speed. It begins to beat harder against the walls of the chest. It creates an erratic pulse whenever you’re around the person you’re attracted to.”

It’s quiet as he presses his fingers firmly against my wrist, waiting several seconds before he begins to speak. He grins a little, and I know it’s because my pulse has changed so much since we started this particular conversation.

“It doesn’t feel like that attraction is being manifested in the brain,” he says, pressing his other hand right over my heart. “It feels like it’s developing right here. Right behind the walls of your chest, in the very core of the organ that goes haywire.”

Jesus Christ. He pulls his hand from my chest and releases my wrist. He lowers his hands to my waist, gripping gently.

“We’re aware the heart doesn’t retain or produce actual emotion. The heart is simply a messenger, receiving signals directly from the brain that let the heart know when an attraction is present. The heart and the brain are in sync because they are both vital and they work as a team. When the heart begins to die, a flurry of signals is sent from the brain, which ultimately causes the demise of the heart. And in turn, lack of oxygen from the heart is ultimately what causes the demise of the brain. One organ cannot survive without the other.” He grins. “Or so we thought. In today’s lecture, we learned that a new study proves that if communication between the heart and brain is severed in the minutes before death, an animal lives up to three times as long as those whose heart-brain connection is still left intact. Which, if proven correct, means that when the chemical connection is severed between the two organs, one doesn’t immediately know when the other begins to die because they’re unable to communicate. Therefore…if the heart begins to die and the brain is unaware, it gives doctors more time to save the heart before the brain begins to shut down. And vice versa.”

I could honestly listen to him talk like this all day. “Are you saying that the heart and the brain might actually be detrimental to one another?”

He nods once. “Yep. It’s almost as if they communicate too well. The study suggested that if we can make one organ temporarily oblivious to the failing of the other organ, we may be able to save them both.”

“Wow,” I say. “That’s…fascinating.”

Jake smiles. “It is. I thought about it the entire drive over. Essentially, if we could figure out how to sever some of the communication between the heart and brain in non life-or-death situations, we could likely make it so that attraction wouldn’t manifest physically in a person.”

I shake my head. “But…why would a person not want to feel the full extent of an attraction?”

“Because,” he says, matter-of-fact. “That way when a doctor develops an intense attraction to a girl he meets while skydiving, his mind wouldn’t be completely distracted for every minute of the two weeks that follow, and he might actually be able to focus on his job instead of thoughts of her.”

His words make me blush so heavily, I immediately lean forward and lower my head to his shoulder so that he can’t see my reaction. He laughs at my response, running a hand up my back and into my hair. He presses a quick kiss to the side of my head.

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?