Page 2 of Her Desire (Pulse Medical #3)

Gianna hadn’t thought much about her semi-free weekend.

She’d only recently moved to L.A. to be closer to work, and her house—which was newly renovated with steel and glass and far too much white—needed some character.

A bit of color to spruce up the place and maybe some wallpaper, something with fern leaves or better yet, pansy shells.

“Not really. Unless you count a bit of renovating as something good planned.”

Holly pulled a face. “You need a social life.”

“And you need to mind your own business.”

Holly chuckled but didn’t push. She never did, at least not when it came to Gianna’s romantic involvements, of which there were few and far between.

“What about you?”

Holly’s grin widened and she pushed herself away from the counter, turning to face Gianna directly.

“Well, actually, I’ve got a date with Brian Summers.

He’s the orthotist from that clinic down the street.

I think I mentioned him before. The guy with the dimples I met at the fundraiser the other day. The one you couldn’t make.”

Gianna froze, the lovely warmth from the coffee suddenly felt as though it disappeared.

Of course, Holly had met someone at the one event Gianna hadn’t been able to attend.

She tried to mask her disappointment—because why was she disappointed in the first place—but couldn’t help her stomach from taking a nose dive. “That’s, um…great.”

Holly’s grin faded and she suddenly looked nervous. “Is it though?” she asked, nibbling at her bottom lip. “You know, I’m bad with dates. What if I say the wrong thing or we don’t hit it off and the conversation feels stilted, awkward.”

“You’re thinking too much into things,” Gianna said, her voice feeling thick as it passed through her lips.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy for Holly; she was.

A new date with a new guy was exactly what the anesthesiologist needed.

Holly was an over-thinker. Everything with her was a mental chess game of overanalyzing every detail.

Especially in the dating side of things.

“It’s just a date right,” Gianna added, shrugging. “A first date. Aren’t they always a little awkward?” She knew from experience that the answer was yes. Definitely yes.

“But what if it’s not just a date,” Holly said quickly, shaking her head.

“What if this actually leads somewhere? I don’t want to ruin it before it even starts.

I mean, I know the basics. We talk. We laugh.

We hit it off. But what if it doesn’t happen like that?

How do you even know when you’ve crossed that line from friendly to something more. ”

Gianna had no answers. At least not the answer Holly wanted.

It wasn’t like Gianna had much success in the romance department.

Every now and then, when the craving hit and her vibrator did nothing to satisfy it, she’d head to The Biscuit Mill, the local queer bar, find someone she wanted to fuck, and head home with them.

It was simple. Easy. And she always avoided names.

Because the only name she actually cared about belonged to someone who could never be more than just a friend.

And now, the fact that Gianna was being asked for advice when all she had done the last year was pine over a woman she could never have… Well, it was ironic really.

“Maybe that’s the whole point of going on a date,” Gianna said, stepping back to the sink, putting some distance between them before Holly could see her pulse drumming just below her jaw. “To find that out in the moment.”

Holly groaned as if she wasn’t convinced and when Gianna faced her again, she locked eyes.

Those ridiculously pale blue eyes resembled ice crystals glinting under the sun.

And Gianna also knew that just off the iris of her right eye was a tiny fleck of brown, as if a piece of the earth had somehow found its way into her gaze.

“I feel like I need a checklist for this sort of thing. But then, that makes it sound like I’m trying too hard. Do you think I’m trying too hard?”

Gianna couldn’t help but smile. Yes, Holly had a way of overthinking things, and yes, it often meant she’d spiral into a mini panic, but there was something endearing about it.

Something so cute when her cheeks blushed pink from getting herself worked up, or when she chewed on her rosebud lip until it swelled, or when she glanced at Gianna as if Gianna knew the secrets of the world.

She didn’t think Holly could ever try too hard.

“I think you need to just be yourself?—”

“But what if myself isn’t enough?” Holly cut in, her eyes wide with genuine worry as if she actually believed that.

Ha.

Gianna couldn’t take it anymore. Without thinking, she walked right up to Holly, placed her hands on her arms, and squeezed. Maybe it was a little too hard, or a little too tender, but Gianna’s intention was to ground Holly, to stop her from spiraling.

“Listen,” Gianna said, her voice softer than she meant it. “You’re more than enough. You’re the kind of person people notice the second you walk into a room. So, don’t worry about a checklist, okay? Just be you because you are exactly what someone would want.”

Holly’s face softened, and before Gianna could let go and back away, sure that she’d overstepped, Holly was already wrapping her up in a hug.

Giana froze, her chest tightening, her heart beating like she was training for a marathon.

The sweet citrus scent of Holly’s shampoo, the warmth of her cheek against Gianna’s, and the slight pressure of Holly’s chest against hers put Gianna’s brain at risk of short-circuiting.

She had to force herself to breathe. Had to force her brain to calm the fuck down.

But with Holly’s arms around her, all Gianna could think about was the fact that she wasn’t just giving advice to a friend. This was Holly . And suddenly, being so close to her, feeling her heartbeat against her, made everything feel so much more complicated.

When Holly finally pulled away, she was relieved.

“Thanks, G,” Holly said, brushing blonde hair out of her face. “You always know what to say. Maybe one day we can even go on a double date. I can always ask Brian if he’s got any single lesbian friends?”

Gianna shook her head more aggressively than she intended. “I’m all good thanks.”

“You sure?” Holly asked, cocking her head to the side. “I can’t remember when last you told me about someone special in your life. You’re either hiding them from me or you’re?—”

Before Holly could finish her sentence—to Gianna’s relief—the break room door swung open.

Doctor Grace Saunders, Chief of Surgery, stepped inside.

She was tall, poised, and commanding. She’d taken over from Dr. Meissner a few months ago and had already developed a reputation for being as sharp as she was terrifyingly efficient.

“Doctor Rossi,” she said. “I know your shift is over, but we’ve got a case coming in. Seven-year-old, MVA, possible liver laceration. We need all hands on deck.”

And just like that, whatever was left of Gianna’s exhaustion was gone.

“Got it,” she said, already moving toward the now-empty doorway. This was how it always went. Patients first. Everything else came second.

“We’re not done with this conversation,” Holly said, folding her arms over her chest.

Gianna forced a smile but was feeling anything but. “Lucky me,” she muttered, before slipping out into the hall.