Chapter 1
POV: Anna
The scent of freshly brewed coffee wraps around me like a warm blanket as I step into the little café across from the hospital. It’s my last chance to breathe before my shift starts, and God knows I need it today. My annual exam is in a few hours, and even though it’s routine, I can’t shake the nervous energy sitting heavy in my chest.
I roll my shoulders back, trying to loosen up as I step in line. The place is buzzing with quiet chatter, the hum of the espresso machine filling the air. I exhale slowly. Just coffee, a few minutes of peace, and then back to the chaos of the hospital.
And that’s when I feel it.
The weight of a gaze.
My skin prickles, awareness humming through me like electricity. I turn my head, and my breath catches for half a second.
He’s sitting at a small table near the window, one hand curled around a cup of coffee, the other resting against his sharp jaw. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes, the kind that lock onto you and don’t waver. He’s watching me, not bothering to hide it, and there’s something about the way he does it—unapologetic, like he already knows I’m looking back.
I should look away. I don’t.
His lips twitch, the ghost of a smirk, and my pulse kicks up a notch.
I take a step forward in line, forcing myself to breathe, but my body is hyper-aware now. I can still feel his eyes on me, burning through the space between us.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice says.
I don’t even have to turn to know it’s him.
When I glance up, he’s right there. Closer than I expected. Tall, broad, ridiculously good-looking up close. His voice is smooth, low, with just a hint of curiosity behind it. And his smell? Like heaven.
“I saw you standing here and—” He pauses, lets his gaze flick over me like he’s memorizing something. “I didn’t want to leave without introducing myself.”
My lips part slightly, my brain catching up to the fact that a man like this is actively pursuing conversation with me.
I arch an eyebrow. “You don’t even know my name.”
“Not yet,” he agrees, tilting his head slightly, amusement dancing in those striking eyes. “But I was hoping you’d give me that—and your number.”
I should say no.
I don’t.
Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me, like I’ve already got his full attention in a crowded room. Maybe it’s the fact that I could use a distraction before my shift. Maybe it’s just him—this effortless confidence wrapped up in a body that looks like sin.
I take my phone out and hand it to him.
He smirks as he types, then hands it back.
“Anna,” I tell him, because I know he’s waiting for it.
“Adam,” he replies. Then he steps back, like he’s giving me space but not really. “I’ll text you.”
And just like that, he’s gone.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, my heart still hammering in my chest. I grab my coffee and walk out, my thoughts a mess of what-the-hell-just-happened.
By the time I get to the hospital, Samantha is waiting for me at the intern lounge, her arms crossed, an expectant look on her face.
“Why do you look like you just had an out-of-body experience?” she asks, immediately suspicious.
I drop into the chair across from her and shake my head. “I just gave my number to a guy I met in a coffee shop.”
Her eyes widen. “You? Giving out your number? To a stranger?”
I shrug, even though my heart still hasn’t settled. “I don’t know. It felt… different.”
Samantha leans in. “Different how?”
I press my lips together, hesitating. “Like… I don’t know. Like he already knew I’d say yes.”
Her brows shoot up, her grin forming instantly. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”
I groan. “No. It’s nothing. Just a harmless exchange.”
Samantha hums, clearly unconvinced. “Sure. And I’m Mother Teresa.”
I roll my eyes, but before I can say anything else, my pager goes off. Time to focus.
Except, as I get up to start my shift, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
A new message.
Adam: Nice meeting you, Anna. Let’s talk soon.
I bite my lip. Yeah. This is definitely not nothing.
I should be focusing on my shift.
I am focusing on my shift.
Mostly.
But every time I have a second to breathe, my mind drifts back to the coffee shop. To him. The way his voice curled around my name, the way his eyes lingered on me like I was something worth studying.
It’s ridiculous. I barely know the guy. And yet, the heat of his gaze still lingers on my skin like a phantom touch.
“Earth to Anna,” Samantha sing-songs, nudging my arm as we scrub in for rounds.
I glance at her, frowning. “What?”
She grins, eyes flicking to my pocket. “Your phone just buzzed again.”
I hesitate, but before I can ignore it, she gasps dramatically. “Oh my God, is it him? Coffee shop guy?”
“Stop calling him that,” I mutter, but my stomach flips as I sneak a glance at the screen.
Adam: Hope your day is going well.
It’s nothing, just a simple text. But it still makes my fingers tighten around my phone.
I lock the screen before Samantha can snatch it.
Her grin only grows. “You’re already texting? Anna, this man has you in a chokehold.”
I scoff, pulling off my gloves. “It’s one text.”
“One text,” she repeats, voice dripping with amusement. “You’re doomed.”
I roll my eyes and shove my phone deep into my pocket. “Can we focus? I have an actual job to do.”
Samantha winks. “Whatever you say, Doctor Wilson.”
Before I can respond, a voice crackles over the hospital intercom.
“All interns and residents, please report to the main hall for an announcement.”
I glance at Samantha. “That’s weird.”
She shrugs. “Guess we’ll find out.”
The main hall is already packed when we get there—interns, residents, nurses, even some of the attending doctors. There’s a hum of curiosity in the air, everyone whispering about what this is all about.
Then, the crowd parts as Ursula Jones steps up onto the small podium at the front of the room.
She’s all authority, her sharp gaze sweeping over us as the murmurs die down. Then, she smiles, a rare expression of warmth.
“I know you’re all wondering why I called you here,” she starts. “Today, we welcome a new addition to our team. Someone who has trained in some of the most prestigious hospitals in Europe. A surgeon who I trust to lead this department with the same excellence and dedication that we uphold here.”
I shift my weight, mildly curious. Another attending, probably.
“I’d like you all to welcome our new General Surgeon, Dr. Adam McCarter.”
Adam? But can’t be my Adam, right?
My stomach drops.
No.
No, no, no, no.
My head snaps up just as the crowd starts to clap—just in time to see him step forward.
Adam.
Looking so good as I remembered from minutes ago.
From the coffee shop. From my phone. From the stupid text still sitting in my pocket.
And he sees me, too.
For half a second, he falters. His stride doesn’t break, but the surprise is unmistakable. His ice-blue eyes lock onto mine, and there’s something there—recognition, shock, something else I can’t name.
I barely hear Samantha whisper next to me. “What the hell was that?”
I swallow hard, keeping my face neutral.
“It’s him,” I murmur.
Her head snaps toward me. “Wait—what?”
Before I can say anything else, Adam takes the mic. His expression is perfectly composed now, cool and professional, as if we didn’t just share a moment of mutual disbelief.
“Thank you, Dr. Jones,” he says smoothly. His voice carries easily through the room, steady and controlled. “I’m honored to be here. I look forward to working with all of you.”
My heart is still hammering as the applause dies down.
Ursula steps forward again, smiling. “Dr. McCarter will be overseeing our general surgery interns. His assigned team includes Anna Wilson and Francis Moore.”
I almost choke.
Samantha’s eyes go wide. “Oh my God.”
I can’t move. Can’t breathe.
And then I hear it—a quiet scoff from the side.
Francis Moore.
Of course. The one person in this program who absolutely hates me.
She flicks me a look, sharp as a blade. “Looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together, Wilson.”
I force a smile, even as my stomach twists. “Can’t wait.”
When I glance back at Adam, his face is unreadable. But something lingers in his gaze when he looks at me—something that says he knows exactly how complicated this just became.
And maybe, just maybe, he regrets asking for my number.
