Kimberly

The week from hell continued. The Emergency Department had been nonstop these last few weeks, and of course, Tommy was being his usual nightmare self… But was he on anyone else's case? No. Only mine. Every single damn time.

Meanwhile, everyone else in the ED seemed to adore him. They saw him as brilliant, confident, and charming—the ever competent Dr. Oliver. He saved that special brand of smugness just for me.

Joy.

I'd spent the past few days thanking every star in the sky that Dr. Matthews had been covering us. But today, just my luck, Tommy was back.

I was reviewing the report for John Doe, early 30s, who'd just been brought in from a brutal car wreck. Jaws of Life brutal. The kind where EMS expects him to be a mangled mess, but here he was, all in one piece yet talking like his brain had been scrambled. Disoriented, slurred speech, severe headache—all screaming neuro involvement, yet somehow, his scans were clean. My gut was screaming something wasn't right. Maybe that's why I wasn't surprised when I walked into the room to find none other than Tommy Oliver himself, flipping through the patient chart, that familiar, infuriatingly smug posture of his as if he knew everything. The last person I wanted to see… and judging by his expression, the feeling was mutual.

Perfect. Just perfect.

"Where's Dr. Matthews?" I bit out, trying not to sound as annoyed as I felt.

Without even looking up, he replied, "Family emergency. You're stuck with me."

Of course.Just my luck.

We locked eyes for the briefest of seconds and something dark simmered between us. It was an electric tension, so heavy it practically tasted bitter. A painful reminder of last weeks phone call that still clawed at my insides. He looked at me with that unreadable mask, but I could see it. The hurt was there, buried under all that stubborn pride. Just as well… he didn't need to know he'd left me just as raw.

I tried not to think about it, how his words hurt me more than I care to admit. It was in the past and I didn't want to bring personal matters into a professional setting. Whatever we felt about each other was irrelevant.

My stomach twisted with a mix of anger and something else I wasn't about to name. I barely spared him a glance as I moved past, focusing instead on the monitor. "They had to cut him out of his car," I said, my tone deliberately professional. "I'm thinking he needs a CT to rule out any internal bleeds. You know, considering the crash and his symptoms."

"Initial tests suggest a concussion," he replied, voice as flat as stone. His eyes flicked over the screen, dismissing my suggestion as if he hadn't even heard it.

My irritation flared.

"Or a hematoma," I countered, keeping my tone calm but not backing down. "Slurred speech, disorientation, this isn't just a concussion."

He finally met my gaze, a flash of something annoyed, maybe even angered, crossing his face.

"Kimberly," he said, all the confidence wrapped in a bow, "Do you really think a CT isn't the first thing I did based on his symptoms? He's already had it. The scans show no bleeding."

I didn't back down. "Internal bleeding doesn't always show right away. The patient's deteriorating."

Tommy's jaw tightened, and he ignored me. I should've known he'd pull this. But fine. Two could play that game. I set my own jaw and focused on the task at hand, keeping my gaze on the patient's monitor, forcing myself not to look his way. His face is so infuriatingly punchable.

"Not likely," he mutters.

"But possible," I fire back just as quickly.

He narrows his eyes at me. That same look that I've been given for speaking my mind, for giving a professional opinion. That same one that says stay in your lane.

I've seen it before—hell, I told him all about it in New York. He seemed to agree with me then. But maybe that was all part of the act. All I know is what he lets me see.

Just then, Trini walked in, the door swinging open with her usual upbeat energy. She took one look at the two of us, eyes narrowing, and I could practically see the gears turning in her head as she took in the tension radiating off us. She gave me an arched brow and a barely-there smirk, clearly relishing the drama. Of course, she didn't know about our messy, half-started… whatever it was.

"So…" she said slowly, drawing out the word. "What's going on? A case disagreement, or…?" She let the question hang, her tone laced with mischief. As if I'd fill in the blank or something.

I exhaled sharply, glancing at her with relief and a silent plea for backup. "Our John Doe here was in a severe wreck. He's showing neuro symptoms that are textbook for a hematoma, but Dr. Oliver thinks it's 'unnecessary' to rule it out with a CT."

Trini's brow lifted as she looked at Tommy, who crossed his arms, his face tight. She gave me a subtle nod, then turned back to Tommy. "Why not just do the scan? If it's negative, we'll know what we're dealing with, right?"

"Because we already did one." He sighs, annoyed that I've got Trini on my side now.

"But that was hours ago. Things could have changed, he's getting worse, he's—"

"Kimberly," He hisses, pissed that I'm standing my ground.

Trini's brows rise again, "I'm with Kim on this one, Dr. O, but if you can definitively say that he's not bleeding, then I'll step aside."

Tommy clenched his jaw, clearly annoyed, but Trini's presence seemed to calm him—at least enough to reluctantly agree.

"Fine," he muttered, looking directly at me as he said it, his eyes sharp. "One CT."

An hour later, I was pacing in the hallway when the results came back. The CT showed a minor hemorrhage. Nothing life-threatening but serious enough to need monitoring and potentially surgery if it grew. I was right and he knew it. Not that I relished at the thought. That just meant that our John Doe would have a tougher recovery. There's no winning in that.

I marched down the hallway, pushing open the door to his office without knocking. Tommy looked up, eyebrows raised in annoyance.

"Ever hear of knocking?" he asked, voice like steel.

"Ever hear of being a decent coworker?" I shot back, shutting the door behind me with a loud click. "Last time I checked, Tommy, we're supposed to be working together. Not playing some high school game where you ignore everything I say because your ego is bruised."

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching as he crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair with all the arrogance of a man who thought he owned the damn room. "Maybe if you spent less time making everything personal, Kimberly, you'd realize I don't need your input on every case."

"You ignored me out of spite and you know it."

Tommy stood, the chair scraping back behind him. He stepped closer, closing the space between us, his eyes blazing. "You think everything's about you, don't you? Not everything revolves around you."

"Spoken like someone who can't take the heat," I snapped back, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "You're used to everyone falling in line, aren't you? But newsflash: I'm not one of your mindless interns."

The air crackled with tension as we stood there, barely inches apart, locked in a silent battle of who would crack first. His breath hitched, and I felt it, like a live wire between us, something hot and volatile that made my skin tingle and my pulse race.

I hated him. God, I hated him… but I hated how much I wanted him even more.

His gaze flicked down to my lips, just for a second, before he looked away. "This isn't going to work if you're constantly undermining me."

"Undermining you?" I let out a frustrated scoff. "Tommy, you're not God. You're not even a good team player. Just because you're the attending doesn't mean you can ignore everyone else's opinion. A good doctor listens, but you wouldn't know that, would you? Because listening might bruise that fragile ego of yours."

His face went dark, and for a second, I thought he was going to explode. Instead, he took a slow, measured breath, his expression tightening into something cold and unyielding. "If you think so little of me, Kimberly, why are you still in my office? You can leave. I won't stop you."

The suggestion hit like a punch to the gut, and I froze, my throat tightening. He wouldn't care if I left, would he? It was all just… pride and stubbornness to him. I pushed down the hurt, the sting of rejection that pulsed under my skin, and shot him a sharp glare.

"Maybe I will," I replied, my voice shaky despite my best efforts. "But not because you said it."

I was being a brat.

Tommy's gaze softened, just a flicker, like he was rethinking his own words, but it was gone in a second. He looked away. "Good. Glad we're clear."

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating, and I could feel my heart hammering against my chest, every part of me screaming at how close he was, how easy it would be to reach out, to let myself forget the hurt for one reckless, stupid moment.

But I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Not now. Notever.

"Good work, Kim. I'm glad you pushed it," he whispered, like it hurt him to admit.

I wanted to believe him, but he'd used up all of those chances.Screw you.

With one last scathing look, I spun on my heel and walked out of his office, slamming the door behind me. The finality of it echoed down the hallway, and I felt a hollow ache settle in my chest, raw and painful.

Because as much as I hated him in that moment… God, I knew I still wanted him. And that might just be the worst part of all.

I needed a drink after todays nightmare.

But it didn't matter how loud the bar was or how strong the drinks were, all I could focus on was the obnoxious man that burrowed his way into my life.

I forced a smile as Trini sat down next to me, her expression concerned as she studied my face. I know my face is telling a story and she's trying to read it.

"All right, spill," she sighs, cutting straight to the chase. "You look like you're ready to murder someone."

I tried to brush it off, swirling the last bit of my cocktail and watching the ice spin. "It's nothing. Just…life."

"Life?" She gave me a look. "Come on, Kim. I know you better than that. What's really going on?"

A sigh escaped before I could stop it. I knew she wouldn't take my shitty answer. We've been friends for years. I see her more than I see my kids on some days. There is no way that Trini will believe my dumb ass lie.

"Fine. It's the baseball coach." I took the scenic route around the truth. It wasn't a total lie. That's what started all of this in the first place. "He's…pushing them too hard, and I've already had words with him. But no—he's got this my-way-or-the-highway attitude."

"Oh, no," she sounded disappointed. "The hot one?"

I smiled. She's talking about Jason. She doesn't know that Tommy has weaseled his way in every aspect of my life.

"No," I chuckle, "It's a different one."

Although I can't deny Tommy isn't even more gorgeous. I tell her about what he did, leaving out important bits, of course.

Trini's eyebrows shot up. "What kind of coach does that? That's ridiculous. Honestly, he sounds like a total asshole." She shook her head, leaning back in her chair. "Kids' sports are supposed to be fun, not traumatizing. I'd tell him where to shove it."

"Right?" I let out a forced laugh, clinking my glass with hers, but her words hit a little too close to home. "Exactly."

Finally someone agrees.

I took a sip, trying to wash down the weight that had settled in my chest. I wanted to tell her everything, to let the whole damn mess spill out. But I couldn't. Not the part about Tommy. About the way his words had hurt and how stupid I felt for ever thinking he was different. I know she wouldn't judge me, and if anything, I know she would give some killer advice, but I'm not ready to spill yet. I need more time to wrap my mind around it.

How the hell did I end up here? I should've known better than to let myself get pulled into his mess. For a second, a tiny, naive second, I'd let myself believe he could actually be more than just some arrogant playboy doctor.

But I was wrong.So damn wrong.

I forced my attention back to Trini, who was eyeing me with that look that said she knew there was more to the story. "Seriously, Kim. Don't let this jerk get to you. You're doing what's best for your kiddo's, and if he can't see that then it's his problem, not yours."

"Yeah," I muttered, more to myself than her. "Maybe."

But as I stared into my drink, that dark, gnawing feeling didn't budge. I tried to shake it, but it was useless. Because, despite everything, my mind kept drifting back to Tommy. To the way he looked at me, the way his words stung, even more than they should have. Like he had some power over me that I couldn't shake, no matter how hard I tried.

I was about to force a change in the conversation when a sudden prickle of something or other washed over me. It was that unmistakable sensation—the feeling of being watched, of someone's eyes glued to you, heating your skin. Slowly, I glanced up, scanning the bar. And then I saw him.

Tommy.

He was across the room, leaning against the bar with a drink in his hand, his gaze fixed solely on me. My breath hitched, heart hammering in my chest. His eyes were intense, smoldering in a way that sent a shiver down my spine. It was the look that he gave me back in New York. The same one that made me sayyes. The same one that made me go up to his room in the first place. It was as if he could see right through me, stripping away every layer until there was nothing left but bare, vulnerable skin.

But my pulse didn't just speed up because of him. No.It was her.

There was a woman at his side, dressed in a clingy, red dress that left little to the imagination. She was pressed up against him, trailing her fingers along his chest, her lips brushing the side of his neck, laughing as if she didn't have a care in the world. And yet…his eyes never left me. Not once. He let her touch him, kiss him, but he never looked away.

A mix of anger and something dark and unsettling surged inside me. God, I hated him right now. Hated how he was dragging me into this twisted, screwed up game that only he seemed to know the rules to. And I hated myself for caring. For actually being a little hurt. For caring that he was there with her, that he was watching me while letting her hang off him like a trophy. I didn't want him, right? I said it a million and one times…yet…

Fuck him.He was exactly who I always thought he was.

"Kim?" Trini's voice cut through the fog, pulling me back to reality. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I forced a smile, gripping my glass so hard I thought it might crack. "Yeah. Just…lost in thought."

She narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced, but I wasn't giving her anything more. Not with Tommy practically daring me to react. I tossed back the rest of my drink, feeling the burn as it slid down my throat, hoping it'd dull the ache that his gaze left behind.

"Let's get another round," I said, more to distract myself than anything. But as Trini flagged down the bartender, I couldn't resist the urge to glance back at him.

He was still there, watching me, his face unreadable, eyes dark and unrelenting. There was a flicker of something raw and unspoken, but before I could place it, he turned away, his focus shifting back to the woman on his arm. The sight twisted in my stomach, like a punch I didn't see coming.

Fine. Let him have his games. Let him have his distractions.

I wouldn't be one of them. Not anymore.

Author note: Hey guys! I am so excited for what's to come. The next chapter will offer so much clarity and I can't wait for you guys to read. As always, let me know what you guys think in a pm or review! See you guys very soon!