CHAPTER TWO
AINSLEY

“Lexi, listen to me—” I try to get a word in with my sister still ranting on the other end of the line. It’s pointless, anyway. The line beeps twice, then goes dead. That’s all the time we get until next week. Her unit is overpopulated at best and overcrowded at worst. The inmates only get fifteen minutes each per week for phone calls. The official reasoning is so they can make sure everyone gets their turn. Lexi’s skeptical and thinks it’s to isolate them even further from the general population. I understand the rules and all the reasons for them, that doesn’t mean I like them.

Of course, if I hadn’t turned her in then we wouldn’t be dealing with their rules in the first place.

What am I saying? I had to turn her in.

I force out a long exhale as I massage my temples with my index fingers. The voice inside my mind is like a raging toddler with the wrong sippy cup. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. It’s the same voice that beats me up every single time I talk to her, but it hasn’t gotten easier. A light tap on the door shakes me from my self-inflicted misery.

“Ainsley,” a very familiar voice screeches from behind me. “Why did you not tell me I would be jabbing a needle into Travis effing Miller, today?” Mari, our lead nurse for the Vax unit, and my work-wife barges in letting the door to my office bump against the wall as she barrels through.

“Sorry, not sorry,” I say with a shrug. I’m not one to meddle in the lives of my friends, but she needs to leave her boyfriend and find someone who treats her the way she deserves. I can’t think of anyone better than Travis to help her move on.

She studies me from across the room, narrowing her eyes as she focuses in on mine. “You just talked to your sister, didn’t you?”

“How’d you know that? Was it my mascara? It’s being a traitor, isn’t it?” My feet shuffle against the floor as I spin my chair around, so I’m facing the mirror on my wall, to check my makeup.

She shakes her head no as she pulls a packet of tissues from her pocket and tosses them my way. “It’s just a heaviness you get in your eyes after you’ve talked to her.”

“It was different this time.” I take a tissue from the pack and dab it along my lash line, hoping it’ll clean up any evidence of the emotional breakdown I just narrowly avoided. “She’s up for parole in a few weeks and she’s getting nervous. I’m nervous for her, too. It’s just a lot.”

“I know it’s difficult, and I can’t pretend I know what you’re going through.” She blows out a slow steady breath. “I’m here if you need to talk though.”

“Thanks, Mari.” I swallow the lump that’s been forming in my throat since the phone line went dead. “What was that you were saying about Travis Miller?” I try my best to make my expression light and playful. I can’t even imagine how forced it must look. Thankfully, she ignores it if it does.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she snorts, letting me change the subject without acknowledging it.

I bat my eyes at her from behind my computer screen while making a praying gesture with my hands, while waiting for her to throw something at me as payback for not telling her in advance about her very handsome, very famous patient. She looks like she might want to strangle me until she chuckles and grabs her phone from her pocket. Her finger swipes at the screen as she glances up at me. “You are no angel, Ainsley Meyer,” she says as she scrolls through image after image on her feed.

“Can’t win them all. That reminds me…” I shove my hand in my pocket, searching for mine so I can respond to Nash. With the drama of my sister calling, I forgot he was waiting for me to get back to him about Travis. I tap my messages and find Nash’s profile pic at the top of the screen. That smile on his face is almost enough to make me forget about the conversation I just had with my sister. Almost. Most of the time he’s so serious; especially when he’s dealing with business, and lately there’s a lot of business to handle as they try to navigate the label and their studio through this pandemic. But I caught this image of him during a late-night jam session at their studio just before the shutdown. He was so excited by the creation process, new music that never actually made it to the new record, and the energy in the room that night… it was perfect. It lit him up, and somehow, I captured it in a single image. Even now when I look at it, I still feel the warmth of the energy in the room that night. 

Then everything changed.

Not just for us, but for the world.

It’s been a hell year.

“Who are you texting?” Mari asks from the other side of my desk.

I shake my head and glance up innocently. “No one.”

“Right. Mystery man?”

“I don’t have a mystery man.”

“Uh-huh,” she grunts.

Hopefully, he’ll take that as enough and let the subject go. He’s got enough drama of his own with his brothers that he might not think too much about it… Message received from Nash Miller.

So much for letting it go.

Just seeing his name pop up on the screen is enough to send that bolt of electricity through me. It’s been a long time since I felt anything even close to this. Sometimes I think I see something glimmer in his eyes, and I let myself believe he feels it too.

Then there are other times where it’s like he shuts down completely and I can’t see a damn thing.

I guess we all do that sometimes. Life is hard right now.

“Ah-ha!” Mari celebrates by letting herself fall into the burnt orange leather chair on the other side of my desk.

“What did you find?” I’m not completely sure I want to know. The last time I asked she showed me the Twitter rabbit hole that is #VaxBods.

“Have you seen this?” she asks, spinning her phone around so I can see the screen. The video buffers then plays a familiar song. It’s an at-home performance by my favorite musicians in the entire world—Amaryllis. They’re playing one of their biggest hits as part of a charity event to raise money for the health care system and Nash looks especially good in that tight t-shirt and quarantine scruff that’s just a little more than a five o’clock shadow.

“I don’t think I have seen this one,” I lie. When Nash messaged me after their live wrapped up to ask me what I was up to, I lied to him too and said I was at the gym. I was sitting on my sofa with a personal tub of ice cream, watching this video on repeat.

What? Don’t judge me. Like you wouldn’t have lied your ass off too.

“One thing I can say for those guys,” I admit, “they are always putting the community first.”

“What’s that look on your face?” she asks, waving her finger in front of me.

“What?” I pull myself away from the screen, before she gets too suspicious and busts me on the fact that my mystery man is Nash Miller. It’s more difficult to look away from the video than I expected. Mostly because of the way Nash’s muscles respond as he plays his instrument. He’s much hotter in person, but video is a close second. “I just really like that song,” I finally squeak out.

“Uh-huh.” She stuffs her phone back in her pocket. “Whatever you say.”

Desperate for another change of conversation, I grab the schedule. “Have you seen next week?” I ask, sliding the paper across the desk.

Her eyes lock onto mine before she drags the paper closer to her and scans it. “Why is Kyle on every shift with me?”

I would like to tell her I have no idea, but… “Because he requested those dates specifically.”

She bites her lip and shakes her head back and forth. “No way.”

“I know that look.” It’s the same one I get when I think about Nash Miller. Just letting his name cross my thoughts made my stomach flip and tie itself into knots.

Her hands clap together in front of her. “Oh, you’re finally going to tell me about your mystery man, huh?”

“He’s not a mystery man. You know his name.”

The deadpan glare she’s giving me from the other side of my desk tells me she’s not buying it. “I know his first name,” she admits.

“See? That’s something. No mystery there.”

“His first name. Only his first name.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “There are a lot of Nash-es in the world, Ainsley.”

“Oh, right?”

“Spill.”

I shake my head no, just as I’m saved by another person on our team who doesn’t respect my privacy barging into my office. “Ainsley, I have to talk—”

“Hi, Kyle,” Mari deadpans. “Can you come back later?”

He swallows hard and shakes his head no before letting his gaze dart back to me. “I have to talk to you.”

“Go ahead.”

“Right.” His eyes shift between glancing at me and back at Mari, then back to me again. “Can we talk alone?” he asks.

“Whatever.” Mari throws her hands up and stands up, sliding the schedule back towards me. “I’m not working every shift with this guy,” she says, flicking her thumb behind her to where Kyle is standing, still fidgeting like a kid waiting to talk to the principal. She’s wearing a smirk, which I’m sure she thinks I didn’t notice, but that’s the thing about having a work-wife. I see everything.

“Noted.” I smile and nod. She and I both know that this hospital is so understaffed right now, there’s not a single thing I’m going to do about it. “If we have enough bodies to cover the shifts, then that’s all I can care about right now.”

“Blah, blah,” she mocks me as she closes the door behind her.

“What can I do for you, Kyle?” I ask as soon as we’re the only two left in the room.

He pulls a box from his pocket and shows it to me. “Help!”

“I’m not going to marry you, Kyle.”

He shakes his head and makes a wide gesture with his arms. “I mean I appreciate you helping me with Mari and all, but—I wasn’t asking.”

I nod and lean back in my chair. This should be interesting…

His jaw clenches tighter, making the muscles in his neck flex under the pressure. It looks as if he’s trying to decide if he should say whatever words are on the tip of his tongue or not. “Do you think she’ll like this?” He finally asks, flicking the ring box open and showing me the beautiful emerald-cut diamond perched in the center.

“It’s beautiful,” I reassure him. “But…”

“But?” He turns the box around and studies the diamond. “Is it not big enough?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s a beautiful choice. I just think maybe you should talk to her before you propose to her.”

“I’m going to ask her next weekend, right after our shift together. That’s why I asked for her schedule. I kind of have a weeklong proposal planned out.”

“That’s literally the sweetest and the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He grits his teeth and bobs his head from side-to-side. “Let’s hope she thinks it’s on the sweet side and not creepy.”

“I’ll cross my fingers for you, but she’s seeing someone right now, Kyle.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “I know, but—”

I hold up one hand to stop him. “This is where I need to remind you that if she tells you to give her space, then you should give her that space.”

“Yeah, thanks.” His phone goes off in his pocket and he jumps up. “That’s my patient waking up after surgery. Thanks for everything, Ainsley.”

“No problem… and good luck, Kyle.” He’s a sweet guy, and she needs to move on from her current situation, but I’m not sure if I can see Kyle and Mari together. I’m not sure she’s interested, either; but those are their issues to work out. I make a mental note to talk to her tonight to find out if I need to adjust Kyle’s schedule to avoid a nasty human resources issue later.

Ugh.“Thanks.” His smile returns as he lets the door close behind him. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to have that kind of relationship with someone, with Nash even, but it’s just not in the cards for me. Not right now, anyway. Maybe in the future when things are… stable. I tap my phone’s screen and pull up Google, searching local reentry programs for controlled substance offenders.