Page 162 of Boyfriend of the Hour

Two hours later,I sat with Nathan in Dr. McAndrew’s office while we waited for him to return with the new MRI images. His wife, Dr. Paola Brunson, was a kind yet brusque woman who had hustled me into a hospital gown and then into the loud, clanging tube that took images of my legs for an hourwhile Nathan stood with her and Jayce in the control room, and I listened to a true crime podcast about Son of Sam.

It hadn’t helped my anxiety.

Now, sitting in the office, I couldn’t stop moving. My knees were bobbing up and down, my feet were shaking, and my fingers were tapping out the steps to “All That Jazz” on the chair arms.

One of Nathan’s large hands landed on top of mine.

I turned. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize for a natural response,” he said. “Stimming is an unconscious way of coping with difficult emotional moments like boredom, anxiety, or other stressors. It’s particularly evident in neurodivergent people.” He looked pointedly at his other hand, which was tapping a pattern on his knee. “I do that one too. It started when I had to take piano lessons as a child.”

I bit my lip. “I’ve never seen you do that.”

“I’m not usually very uncomfortable around you.”

It was like he knew just what to say. “Have I ever told you how much I like it when you nerd out on me?”

One brow lifted. “Stating simple facts is ‘nerding out’?”

I nodded, unable to hide my pleasure. “Oh, yeah.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

My grin fought its way out. “Oh, yeah. You’ll be happy to know this girl’s got a huge thing for smart guys. Especially when they are also tall, curly-haired doctors with glasses.”

Nathan blinked adorably. “I don’t know whether that’s sarcastic or if you really mean it.”

“Come here.” I pulled him down for a little kiss with a lot of tongue. When I was finished, his eyes had darkened considerably, and he was squeezing my hand a lot harder than before. “Does that seem like I didn’t mean it?”

He swallowed hard. “No.”

I considered kissing him again, and he looked like he wanted me to. But I needed to talk about something else first.

“I am nervous,” I admitted. “You went through all this trouble, called in favors with these big-shot doctors just for me. And what if nothing comes of it? What if it’s the same old response—that my knee just can’t dance anymore? Or what if it’s something even worse, like a horrible surgery is needed that I absolutely can’t afford? What if?—”

“All of those are possibilities,” Nathan interrupted as he gently took my hand and cradled it between both of his. “With varying levels of potential. But honestly, you won’t know until Jayce comes in here to tell you.”

For some reason, his frank words made me relax a bit more. Nathan didn’t say the things other people would say. If my sisters had been here, they would have been full of platitudes. Lea would have told me to calm down and stop worrying, while Kate and Frankie would have insisted that it would be good news no matter what. Marie would have just said it would be fine, no matter what.

And I would have known that deep down, none of what they were saying was true. I had every right to worry. There was no way of knowing what the news would be. And it wasn’t going to be fine no matter what.

“Thank you for just saying the truth,” I told him. “Thank you for being here.”

Nathan looked up. “I’ll always tell you the truth, Joni. I promise.”

I squeezed his hand, then leaned in to give him another quick kiss. “Me too.”

There was a knock at the door before it opened, and Jayce walked in, followed by his wife.

“Sorry about the delay,” McAndrew said as he took a seat behind the desk and logged into his computer. “We wanted tocompare the new images to the old ones to see if there were any differences. Took a minute to put them together.”

Twin images of my knee popped up on a large flat screen on the other side of the room. We all turned to look at them as Dr. Brunson strode over.

“I spotted it immediately,” Brunson said, pointing to the interior of what I assumed was my right knee in the first image. “There.”

Nathan’s eyes popped open with obvious recognition.

“What?” I asked. “What is it?” They both looked the same to me.