The outreach event was winding down. Volunteers were packing up tables and medical supplies as the last few patients filtered out of the community center.
Ava stood near the entrance, her expression sharp and focused as she barked orders.
“Make sure all the used syringes are properly disposed of. We can’t leave anything behind,” she said, her tone firm as she pointed toward the supply boxes. “The medications go in the labeled crates, and double-check for expired labels before sealing them.”
Ethan, carrying a box of supplies, stopped mid-step and gave her an exasperated look. “Do you always have to be this bossy?”
Ava turned toward him, clipboard in one hand and a bag of leftover bandages in the other. “Do you always have to be this difficult?”
“Not difficult,” Ethan said, setting the box on the table with a loud thud. “I just think you need to take it down a notch. We’re wrapping up, not performing brain surgery.”
Ava shot back, glaring. “People’s health is on the line. I’d rather be thorough than careless.”
Ethan smirked and leaned casually against the table. “You know, you might actually be fun if you weren’t so uptight all the time.”
“I’m not uptight,” Ava replied defensively, narrowing her eyes.
“Right,” Ethan said, dragging out the word. “You’re just... extremely passionate about being bossy.”
Ava groaned and waved him off, choosing to ignore him as she refocused on the volunteers.
“Sam, make sure those tables are folded properly before loading them into the truck,” she called out to a young nurse.
“See what I mean?” Ethan said, following her as she moved toward the exit. “You’re like a general commanding an army.”
“Someone has to keep things organized,” Ava replied without looking at him.
Ethan grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “I don’t know if I should admire your dedication or feel sorry for anyone who has to work under you.”
Ava finally stopped and turned to face him. “How about you stop talking and actually help?”
“Fine, fine,” Ethan said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll play along.”
By the time they were done, Ava found herself grudgingly impressed by Ethan’s ability to connect with the patients. She watched as he knelt to reassure a little boy who was terrified of getting his vaccines.
“It’s just a tiny pinch,” Ethan said, his tone calm and comforting. “You’ll barely feel it. And afterward, I’ll let you pick a sticker—deal?”
The boy nodded hesitantly, and Ethan grinned. “Brave kid.”
Later, Ava saw him sitting with an elderly woman, patiently explaining her medication schedule and cracking a joke that had her laughing so hard she wiped tears from her eyes.
By mid-afternoon, Ava couldn’t deny it anymore. Ethan Clarke wasn’t just some overconfident, smug resident. He had a way with people that was undeniably effective.
“Alright, Clarke,” Ava said during a rare lull as they stood by the supply table. “I’ll admit it—you’re good with patients.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow, his smirk replaced by a softer expression. “Don’t sound so surprised. I didn’t become a doctor just for the title, you know.”
“I guess I just didn’t expect you to be so... personable,” Ava said, folding her arms.
“Guess there’s more to me than you thought,” he replied, leaning against the table. “And since we’re being honest, I have to say—I didn’t realize how much pressure you’re under until now. Managing all this, mentoring residents... It’s a lot.”
Ava blinked, caught off guard by his sincerity. “It comes with the territory.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s easy,” Ethan said, his tone unusually serious. “I’ve been a pain, haven’t I?”
“Constantly,” she said, though a small smile tugged at her lips.
“Well, let me make it up to you,” Ethan said. “Dinner. My treat.”
Ava raised an eyebrow. “Dinner? Are you trying to bribe me into forgetting how insufferable you’ve been?”
“Not at all,” he replied, grinning. “It’s an apology. Pure and simple.”
She hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. But don’t think this changes anything.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ethan said, his grin widening.
Surprisingly, Ava smiled and turned away from him. She walked toward the supply truck to oversee the final loading. Ethan followed her, carrying a box of medical kits.
“Careful,” Ava warned as she stepped over a loose patch of gravel near the truck.
“I think I can manage—”
A sudden, sharp cracking noise interrupted him, drawing both their attention. Ava barely had time to react as a poorly secured stack of crates wobbled on the edge of the truck bed. One of them tipped over, falling directly toward her.
“Dr. Grant, watch out!” Ethan shouted.
Before she could move, Ethan lunged forward, grabbing her waist and yanking her out of the way.
The crate crashed to the ground where she had just been standing, scattering medical supplies everywhere.
For a moment, everything was still. Ava found herself pressed against Ethan’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
Her heart raced, both from the near-miss and the unexpected closeness.
“You okay?” Ethan asked, his voice low and steady.
“I... I think so,” Ava stammered, looking up at him. Their faces were inches apart, his dark eyes searching hers.
“You need to be more careful,” he said, his tone a mix of concern and exasperation.
“I wasn’t the one who stacked the crates like that,” Ava replied, though her voice lacked its usual edge.
Ethan didn’t let go immediately. “Still, you could’ve been hurt.”
“I’m fine,” Ava insisted, trying to step away from his hold but he held her firmly, not letting go.
Without warning, he picked Ava up in a bridal style and her eyes widened with her cheeks flushed as she looked up at him, her face inches from his once again. “I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own, Ethan.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Ethan teased, his smirk returning.
He carried her to the car anyway, setting her down gently before opening the door for her.
As Ava slid into the passenger seat, she couldn’t help but glance at him, her heart still racing.