Wright with Benefits (Wright Series #8) - K.A. Linde Page 0,66

when she went through her care. What if I was gone this time for it? Fuck.

29

Annie

Jordan dropped me back off at home. He wanted to be alone despite all of my protests. So, I slunk back to my house, nudging a meowing Avocado out my way, as I worried about him. I knew exactly what I needed to do.

I pulled my laptop out and opened my ranks.

* * *

Seattle—University of Washington

Baltimore—Johns Hopkins

Atlanta—Emory

Los Angeles—University of Southern California

Dallas—University of Texas, Southwestern

* * *

Seattle right there at the top, like I’d always wanted. I still had a few days before I needed to commit and submit the official form. I probably should have talked to someone about it, but I’d already made up my mind. As soon as Jordan had sunk down into the driver’s seat, I’d known what it meant.

His mom had cancer. He’d moved here, primarily, to be with her for the worst of it. He and Julian had literally given up their entire life to take care of her. They were only now getting back on their feet, and now…it was happening all over again.

Right after Jordan had agreed to move with me to Seattle.

As much as I tried to avoid worst-case scenarios and look on the bright side and all that, I was a medical student. I knew the likelihood of her recovering after her fourth—or was it fifth?—time with breast cancer. It didn’t look good. Would he hate me forever for taking him away if something went wrong?

I closed my eyes and tried not to cry.

I couldn’t take him away. That much was obvious.

The Submit button hovered invitingly. But despite how much wanted Seattle…it had always been a pipe dream. I’d rather be here and happy with Jordan than away and have him resent me. I reordered my choices.

* * *

Lubbock—Texas Tech University

Seattle—University of Washington

Baltimore—Johns Hopkins

Atlanta—Emory

Los Angeles—University of Southern California

* * *

I pressed Submit on my dreams.

And I went to bed.

Everything changed after that day.

Not in any meaningful, measurable way.

But it all still floundered.

Today was my day off, and I really should have been at work. I needed the stress of the emergency room to clear my head. To make me not obsess about this. Jordan had claimed he had to be at work late the next couple days. But I guessed he was doing what I wished I could have done at the hospital. Jennifer was away for the week at an elopement in Denver, which left the house too quiet. I could have run, but I was too down. I should have been studying, but the words all blurred together on the pages.

So, when the text came through, I jumped to answer it. Anything to keep me from wallowing.

Hey you! If you’re free today, you should swing by and check out my new place. Could use someone’s advice on filling the space. Can probably provide pizza in exchange.

Chase Sinclair. Needing interior decorating advice. Hilarious.

I knew from Ashleigh that his girlfriend—fiancée?—wasn’t moving in for another couple weeks because of her job back in Houston. Which probably meant that it still looked like a bachelor pad.

Pizza is a fair exchange, Sinclair. You better get the pepperoni, sausage, Canadian bacon.

Done.

He shot me the address, and I thanked whoever was listening for giving me an out. I changed into jeans and a sweatshirt and then headed out. The house was in Rush, on the north side of town, farther away from everyone else. The southside was where everything was growing, but Rush was all this gorgeous and enormous post-war housing. Most of the interiors had been completely gutted and redone into stunning, modern looks.

Chase’s new house seemed to fit the mold. Fifties era with all the new, ritzy upkeeps on the outside—fresh paint, new shutters, dark-stained wood accents. I knew instantly why he’d decided on it.

I knocked, holding up a cold six-pack of his favorite beer when he answered.

“Donoghue, you’re a dream,” he said with a laugh as he took the beer. “Pizza is on its way.”

The house was bare bones and still so pretty on the inside. Someone had spent a lot of money on it. All new hardwood floor, crystal chandelier, a new coat of paint, crown moldings, new kitchen. I was almost a little bit jealous. I was used to Jordan’s brand-new construction, but this had its own character.

“I’m ordering new furniture,” he explained when I stepped into the empty living room. All that was inside was the TV on the floor, a poof, and some folding

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