"As the day is long and the sky is blue, I find myself hopelessly in love with you."
When a fateful stalled elevator brings an intoxicating stranger into the life of Doctor Elliot Kingsley, there is scarce little he can do to stay away from her. Eve...
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My poignant inner monologue of deciding where to have dinner from because my mom can't see all the unhealthy things I order comes to an abrupt halt the moment I step off the elevator and come face to face with Neurosurgeon Elliot.
He is seated on a sofa in the elevator lobby on our floor, writing in a gorgeous leatherbound book. He closes it and stands the moment he sees me.
He smiles.
"You're brave," he comments, almost amused.
I frown in confusion as a response.
Elliot nods to the closed doors of the elevator that I had stepped off; the same one that held us hostage this morning.
"For taking the same elevator?" I ask, flatly.
He puffs out a breath. "For taking the elevator at all."
I can feel myself start to smile. "Oh, you're swearing off elevators, are you?" I tease, "Did you take the stairs up this evening?"
Not missing a beat, Elliot nods. "All seventeen floors up. I was just sitting here to catch my breath."
"You're very strange, Doctor. Visible brains you can manage, but a stuck machine as where you draw the line."
His tone is as easy as his smile, he says, "I've recently been informed that I may not be particularly normal."
"So, you're leaning into it?" I raise an eyebrow.
Elliot shrugs. "Normal is boring."
The silence that follows his statement is filled by the erratic tempo of my thumb tapping against the back of the clipboard I'm holding.
Elliot angles his head ever so slightly and deepens his smirk, showing his dimple. "Any harmful side effects of being late to the conference because of the heinous elevator?" he asks.
I chuckle at his phrasing. "Only my own guilt." I press the clipboard tighter against myself.
"Wasn't your fault, though," he points out, casually, gently, like he's trying to convince me that he's right.
"Doesn't make being late any easier. If you grew up in my household, you would know," I sigh and shake my head, giving him a small smile.
Elliot takes a small step forward. "Maybe, you could tell me about it over dinner?"
One sharp inhale and I stop breathing, only staring at him.
Did the hot, funny doctor I've been thinking about all day just ask me out?
He definitely did not ask me out. He just said dinner. Why would he ask me out?
Slowly, his hands raise like he notices my nervousness. He gives me a reassuring smile, not that his smile needed to change. It's great just as it is. "Just dinner, nothing more. If you would like."
