Brain Games

23. Ambush

After making sure my patients are settled for the night, I race back to the neurosurgery department to pack up my things and get the hell out of here. I scramble to put my street clothes on and grab my purse, walking out the door when I run into a sold wall of muscle.

Strong but gentle hands grab my elbows to stabilize me, and I look up into two familiar pools of warm chocolaty brown staring back. I take a step back out of his grip and make to leave but he sidesteps with me, blocking the exit.

"Let me drive you home," Brad insists, his tone half pleading, half demanding, prickling my nerves.

I huff out a humorless laugh. "That would be all too convenient for you, wouldn't it?"

His face screws in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

I laugh once more. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

He frowns, dark brows pinching further together. "I don't follow," he says slowly, still confused at my cryptic statement.

A malicious grin curves my mouth. "You will soon," I promise, shoving past him and exiting the locker room before he can stop me.

I speed walk as fast as I can through the heavy foot traffic on the city sidewalks, wanting to make it back to the apartment before Brad does. Riled up, I plan on ambushing him and confronting him on the spot. Catch him coming home so he can't deny that he's my neighbor.

Heart pounding with adrenaline, I push my little legs to go as fast as they can to the apartment. Once I make it inside, I stand outside my door and wait for him to show up, bouncing with anticipation. Every little noise of the elevator has me on high alert, ready to strike. About ten minutes later the elevator doors grind open and Brad walks out, his head cast down. He walks about halfway down the hallway, hand fumbling around in his pocket for his keys, before glancing up, stopping in his tracks.

Arms crossed, shoulder propped against his door, I throw him a sadistic smile. "Howdy, neighbor."

He gapes at me, the keys he dug out of his pocket, now dangling from his pinkie, dropping to the floor. The clanking of metal against metal is almost deafening in the strained silence.

I push off the door, standing tall, eyes dead locked on his. "When were you going to tell me?" I demand.

His lips part, jaw working, trying to form words, but no words come out. I can tell he wants to lie to me, or at least give me some bullshit excuse, but he just looks at me helplessly.

I laugh once, shaking my head, backpedaling towards my own apartment. "You're unbelievable."

"Delilah, wait," he says, the slightest hint of desperation in his voice. "Let me explain."

I continue to shake my head, grabbing my keys from my purse and jamming them into my door. "Oh yeah, like I didn't just give you a chance to explain and all you gave me was silence. What, did you finally come up with a great lie in those few seconds?" I accuse.

Frustration touches his features and he swipes a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No. Just please... let me explain." He removes his hand from his face, dark eyes pleading.

"You had all this time," I point out, my voice softer than I intended it to be. "And you didn't tell me."

He strides towards me and I straighten my spine, not willing to back down or show any ounce of weakness. He stops when we're inches apart, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. I have to tip my head back to look at him, hating how small he makes me feel right now.

Emotion swirls in the depths of those deep brown eyes, even behind that hard face and set jaw. "It's... complicated," he explains lamely.

I bark out a disbelieving laugh. "Errr!" I make an obnoxious buzzer sound at the back of my throat. "Wrong."