“Baby.” He pulled my hands away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Please ignore me. I feel so stupid.”

He took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “Tell me.”

“Have you ever been so happy you don’t know whether to laugh or cry?”

He shook his head. “Have you ever had something so amazing, you were terrified to lose it?”

I nodded, sniffing. He said exactly what I was feeling, even if I couldn’t explain it myself.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, using his thumb to wipe my tears.

My mind flashed back to the crash, feeling his hand in mine. “You’ve said that before … after the accident.”

Josh thought for a moment and then breathed out a small laugh. “See? I meant it.”

“Even if you didn’t know it at the time.”

“I meant it then.” He bent down to kiss my lips. “And I mean it now.”

I smiled. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone promised to stick around. Sometimes you have to let go, whether you want to or not.”

“Not me.” He gestured toward the frame on my nightstand. “Why don’t you ever talk about them? Why don’t they call?”

I thought carefully about my answer. Giving away that part of me was a bigger step than key rings or cars. “My dad was driving my mom and me to dinner after high school graduation. We were laughing, making plans. All I remember after that was flashing lights.”

His eyebrows turned in, and he swallowed. “How bad were you hurt?”

“Concussion. I was unconscious for twenty or so minutes.” The news bothered him. I touched his face. “What?”

He shook his head. “The thought of you being hurt and alone in the car with your … your parents.”

I looked away. “They were ejected. Mom died instantly. Dad went quickly. I didn’t see them until the firefighters cut me out of the car.”

“I won’t say you were lucky, but …”

“Good. Don’t. I hate it when people say that.”

He kissed my forehead. “Okay. Then I’ll say I’m lucky. You survived. Twice. And now you’re here.”

I bit my lip. “You don’t have to keep saying all of these perfect things. All you have to do is stay.”

He scanned my face, staring down at me like he wanted to pick up every broken piece anyone had ever left behind. “I’ll do both.”

“Happy birthday to you,” Deb sang, handing me a cupcake with pink icing.

I sniffed. “Strawberry shortcake?”

“You know it.” She winked.

“Thank you, Deb.”

I stopped in the center of the hallway, mid-step, closing my eyes tight. “Damn it.”

“What?” Deb said, frozen.

“I’m either going to have to wear a pad or start bringing a change of panties.”

“Was that Josh’s present to you?” Her nose wrinkled. “Maybe you should stop being a cum dumpster.”

“Actually, it was breakfast in bed, a scarf, and a heart key ring, and four months ago, you were begging me for details!” I said, offended.

“Four months ago, I wasn’t getting laid. I have my own dirty sexcapades to get me through the day now, thank you very much.”

I pointed at her. “You and Quinn? Since when?”

“Since I fucked him that one time.”

“That one time,” I deadpanned.

“Do you feel that?” she asked.

“Feel what?”

“The jealousy you’re feeling for my amazing and very regular sex life. No, it’s okay. Keep at it. It feels nice.”

“I’m, um … going to the fourth floor.”

Deb shot me a look of disgust. “For someone who hates babies, you sure like hanging out in the maternity ward.”

“I don’t hate them. The newborns are actually kind of calming. I make up stories about what kind of lives they’ll lead and what they’ll do when they grow up.”

“You’re freakin’ weird,” she said, and then headed for the waiting room.

I stopped at the elevator and pressed the up button. Dr. Rosenberg was already inside, holding a tall Yeti mug full of coffee. Steam puffed from the spout, and he waved it away with the thin stack of papers in his other hand. He was immediately uncomfortable, and he stepped aside, giving me plenty of room.

“Doctor,” I said.

He nodded, pretending to look over the papers in his hands.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yes, of course,” he said, still staring at the papers. He wasn’t reading them; they were upside down.

“Did I do something to upset you?” I asked. My mind went over every possible scenario. Maybe he was angry I was still seeing Josh, or maybe I had pissed him off during that morning’s code. I couldn’t think of anything.

“Reid,” I said quietly.

He looked at me, and the elevator dinged. The doors opened to the maternity ward.

Dr. Rosenberg stepped out into the hall, stopping at the line of windows. The nursery only had a few newborns, flailing their arms or sleeping.

“I need to tell you something, but I’m not sure I should,” Dr. Rosenberg said.

“Is it personal?” I asked.

“Yes. It’s about Josh.”

I sighed. “Doctor—”

“He came to my home, Avery. He told me to stay away from you.”

My head snapped in his direction, but he continued to stare at the babies without expression, as if he’d just told me it may rain.

“You’re lying.” I didn’t bother to hide the bite in my tone. I’d become fiercely protective when it came to Josh.

“You can ask my wife. And my daughter. They answered the door.”

I blinked and then looked through the glass, blank-faced and feeling foolish. So many emotions swirled inside me I couldn’t sift through them. A lump formed in my throat. “I’m so sorry,” I managed to say.

“I should stay away from you, but because I care about you, I’m going to say this one last time, Avery. Josh has become dangerous. He’s unpredictable, possessive, and emotionally immature. That can be a scary combination if you let this continue. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I nodded, unable to look him in the eyes. My cheeks flushed. “He’s not like that with me. He—”

“They never are until they are. You know as well as I do that it’s a process. We see it every day in the ER. You think those women get punched and kicked on their first date? You think their husbands separate them from the people who care about them right off the bat? You know how this works, Avery. You’re smarter than this.

“What I’m most worried about is that I can’t help you anymore. I have a family to care for, and Josh has made it impossible for me to continue our friendship.” He turned to me, sadness in his eyes. “I wish you the best. I really do. Good luck.”

I wanted to tell him he was wrong about everything, but what he said made sense. I couldn’t argue when part of me worried his assessment of Josh was true. “Th-thank you,” I said. I watched him walk away like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just ripped my heart from my chest.

Avery’s eyes were wide and full of fire as she slammed my apartment door behind her and slapped her key onto the countertop while I worked to prepare her the meatloaf she’d requested for her birthday, using Quinn’s mom’s recipe.

I glanced over at the cake I’d made and used a clean dish towel to cover the sloppy icing. It wasn’t great, but stores didn’t sell strawberry shortcake birthday cakes, so I’d had to do some research online.

“Bad day, baby?” I asked, tossing my oven mitt on the counter. I leaned against the peeling Formica, folding my arms over my chest.

“Depends. Do you consider being humiliated a good thing, Josh?”

I fidgeted to stall, trying to decide how to answer. Her question sounded dangerously close to a trap. “Um … no?”

“I guess you didn’t think that over when you went to Doc Rose’s house.”