Brain Games

39. Tie

I pace up and down the hallway of my apartment building, along the wall between my door and Brad's, anxiously waiting for him to get home.

What do I even do when I see him? What do I even say? What do I—

The elevator dings behind me, and I whip around so fast I almost lose my balance. My heart drops the second I see him. He looks so physically and emotionally drained that I just want to run up to him and give him a big hug—but I refrain.

He walks out of the elevator, his head down, rummaging through his pocket for his keys. Halfway to his door, he looks up, his eyes meeting mine, and he stops in his tracks. "Delilah?"

As soon as he breathes out my name, I lose it, my heart lodging in my throat and my bottom lip quivering. "What did you do?" I ask, my voice hardly above a whisper. "Why would you do that?"

His shoulders droop, expression helpless. "Listen, I know you're probably pissed. I know I should have let you handle this on your own, and I know you're strong enough and more than capable enough to take care of yourself but... you were going to leave," he says, his last few words coming out hushed, pained.

I profusely shake my head, emotion slamming me right in the chest, and my legs carry me towards him in long strides.

Worry fills his eyes, and his body becomes rigid, poised for my reaction. "Delilah, I'm sorry. I—"

His words are cut off by my lips crashing onto his as I mold our lips together in a desperate kiss. He takes a moment to respond, every muscle in his body strung tight, but eventually his brain catches up and his lips start to move against mine. He kisses me back with an urgency, as if I'm the sole thing providing oxygen to his lungs at this moment.

In a whirlwind of lips, tongues, and teeth clashing, strong hands grip the backs of my thighs, lifting me off the ground, and I wind them around his waist as my back meets the wall. I thread my fingers through his dark, silky hair, keeping him close and pulling him even closer, unable to get enough.

We both seem to realize that things are escalating quickly, too quickly, and we consciously make an effort to slow down until were both panting, foreheads pressed together as our lips hover inches away, unable to pull away.

"Why would you do that for me?" I ask, once I've managed to catch my breath. "Why would you risk your residency by going against Larson?"

His lips press together in a firm line as he reaches up to brush a stray curl out of my face and behind my ear. "Because Warner has always been you're dream, not mine. I wasn't going to stand by and watch you walk away from it because of me. Because of him."

My heart swells to the point I feel like it's going to burst.

Tears sliding down my cheeks, I lean in to softly press my lips to his once more, realizing how much I actually love this man.

My love for Bradly Gallow is like a tumor. It formed slowly, unknowingly, until it grew uncontrollably, becoming all consuming. It's terrifying and malignant, but it's destroying my heart in the best way possible. I know there's probably a more eloquent and less ridiculous way of describing it, but as a doctor, it's the best I can do for now without getting too mushy.

"But what about you?" I worry. "What if they decide to remove you from the program?"

He blows out a breath, his lips slightly vibrating together. "Well, there's still that spot left open in Texas, right?" he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

I frown, shoving his shoulder. "Not funny," I scold, causing him to chuckle. "Can we go inside? Talk?" I ask, suddenly nervous.

He nods, slowly setting me back down, my front tantalizingly sliding against his. He grabs his keys out of his pocket, unlocking his front door and ushering me inside. I take a seat on his couch and he sits beside me, the both of us turned towards each other.