"I've already been in love." I glanced at my watch. Much to my annoyance I still had another fifteen minutes before lunch time was over.

"It's like you and I are having two different conversations. I asked you if you want a relationship with Nico and you haven't answered the question."

"Because I don't know how to answer it."

"Well, that's an answer. You could have just said: I don't know, Ashley. I don't know if I want to have a relationship with dreamy Nico Moretti even though I like him and he's a great guy and he loves me and over half the population of the United States wants to get in his pants." Her voice was high as she mocked me and she lost most of her Tennessee drawl in favor of a Fargo, North Dakota accent.

I twisted my mouth to the side. "I do not sound like that. And, really, over half the population?"

"More like three quarters. I know some straight men who would switch teams to take a bite out of that apple arse."

I hit her thigh. "Ashley!"

"What? It's true. I know I'd like to take a look at his knackwurst."

"What are you two talking about?"

Ashley and I stiffened and automatically turned toward the owner of the voice. I met the dreamy-yet leaden-gaze of Dr. Ken Miles with an expression that I was sure looked guilty.

"Oh, hey, Ken. I didn't see you come in." Ashley didn't look guilty. She looked pleased. I scowled at her.

"So who were you two talking about? Was it me?"

Ashley kept her face turned toward Dr. Ken Miles, but her eyes slid to me. "Actually we were talking about a friend of Elizabeth's from high school. She just recently made contact with him again and he wants to get together, so. . . no. Not you."

It took all my Jedi power to keep from smacking Ashley at that moment. She knew my plan for Dr. Ken Miles. She knew he was my best hope for getting laid in the foreseeable future. She knew she was interfering with the potential for an orgasm, maybe several if I was lucky.

Friends don't pussy submarine friends. Not cool.

"Old friend?" Dr. Ken Miles turned his pale-blue eyes to mine. He appeared to be interested, and his voice held a slight edge. It was a good sign and a bad sign.

I shrugged. "Oh, yeah, well. You know. I went to my high school reunion this weekend and ran into some people."

Dr. Ken Miles was chewing gum and holding a half-finished milkshake. He pushed blond curls to one side of his forehead then crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah. I saw that."

I stared at him for a beat. When I spoke my voice cracked. "You saw what?"

Dr. Ken Miles's eyes narrowed, I was suddenly in the path of Dr. Ken Miles's vacant stare zone; his jaw opened and closed as he kneaded the gum between his molars. "The YouTube video with you and that comedian guy. Meg showed it to me yesterday."

Shisterhosen! Megalomaniac eyebrow-tweezing Meg.

"Oh. That." I laughed. I knew it sounded insincere and forced. I grimaced.

He smiled at me in return. It looked insincere and forced. "I didn't know you had a kid."

I rolled my eyes and released a long sigh. "I don't. I didn't. I was trying to be helpful."

"See. She was trying to be helpful," Ashley said sweetly.

"I was, Ashley." I issued her a stealthy death stare while I maintained a smile on my face. "As I was just explaining, Nico and I were acquainted in high school. One of his closest friends was my boyfriend. At the reunion there were some intoxicated women who were harassing him so I tried to diffuse the situation by yelling something to shock the ladies out of their inappropriate behavior."

Dr. Ken Miles pulled up a chair next to me while I was speaking, his expression was still guarded. "Why didn't you yell fire?"

Oh, for the love of-!

"I actually explained that too." My smile was waning, and I worried that it looked more like a growl than a grin. I wondered how many times I was going to have to explain the legality of screaming fire in an occupied room. "It is actually against the law to yell fire in a crowd of people. You know, what with all the panic and trampling to death and whatnot."

"Hmm." Dr. Ken Miles leaned back in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His eyes continued to move over me speculatively. "So you two hooking up now or something?"

"That's a pretty personal question, Dr. Ken," Ashley's Tennessee twang reminded him that she was still there. "Unless you have a stake in the dairy farm, the milking pen is none of your beeswax."

Dr. Ken Miles frowned at Ashley's untoward metaphor, his eyes moving over her in plain contemplation. He responded with a vehemence I wasn't expecting. "Shouldn't you be getting back to work, Nurse?"

Ashley and I shared a look and silent communication passed between us.

Me: That was weird.

Her: What is all that about?

Me: I don't know. Kinda douchey though.

Her: Yes. My sentiments exactly.

"Well." Ashley stood from her chair slowly, keeping her eyes on me. "I suppose that is my cue to leave."

I glanced at Dr. Ken Miles, glowering at his rudeness, then back to Ashley. "No, no-you don't need to go."

"No, no. Dr. Ken is actually right, I need to get back. You two have a nice chat." She stressed the end of the word chat and issued me a wonky stare as she left.

I frowned at her back then shifted my attention to him, waited for him to speak.

"That was really rude, Dr. Ken Miles."

"Yeah, well. She did need to get back." He sighed, continued to grind the gum between his molars. "I'll apologize to her later, okay? I just wanted to talk to you alone."

I studied his pretty face. Decided to let it go, for now, but I tucked it away as another reason why I disliked him.

He issued me a flat smile. "So, then you had a nice time at your reunion?"

I nodded. "It was different than I expected but not unpleasant."

He opened the lid to his plastic cup and spit the gum into it. Gross. "I heard about your latest prank."

"Really? From who?"

"Dr. Botstein."

"Huh." I shrugged. I was just happy he'd dropped the Nico-babygate scandal so fast. "Really? Was he still mad?"

"He asked me if I thought you should be disciplined."

"What? Why would he do that?"

"Because I'm the chief resident." Dr. Ken Miles looked a little affronted that I would even ask the question.

This annoyed me. I decided to cover my annoyance by flirting. Maybe I could kill two birds with one stone: disguise my irritation that Dr. Botstein had consulted dull-Dr. Ken Miles on my antics and push my getting laid agenda.

Thoughts of getting laid made me think of Nico.

My stomach flip-flopped. For a single second I entertained the possibility that my strange, chaotic, messy, tangled feelings for Nico were just a byproduct of engorged hormones. Maybe all I needed was a nicely built partner.

But I wasn't that stupid.

I couldn't convince myself that Dr. Ken Miles was a suitable substitution for Nico any more than a Pinto was an adequate stand-in for a Ferrari. I wanted to be touched, kissed, held, caressed. And I wanted Nico, but I couldn't use him in that way. I liked him too much.

So I flirted with Dr. Ken Miles.

"I guess it's a good thing then that you and I are such good friends. Besides, the prank was meant for you and it was April Fool's Day." I leaned forward and batted my eyelashes in his general direction. Rebalancing my hormones was a top priority; I might have slathered on the flirt a little too thick.

Dr. Ken Miles cleared his throat and shifted his attention to the plastic milkshake cup in his hand. "I didn't know the prank was meant for me."

"How am I expected to contain myself around you on April Fool's Day?" I ran my index finger down the length of his arm. I was bracing myself for one of his poor flirting attempts, but it didn't really matter. I didn't care if he was good at flirting.

"I thought you'd like to know that I stood up for you to Dr. Botstein."

My eyes widened with genuine surprise. "You did?" Maybe Dr. Ken Miles was likeable after all.

He nodded proudly. "I did."

"What did you say?"

"I told him that there was no way to definitively prove that it was you who planted the box of gloves."

I shook my head, felt badly for Dr. Ken Miles. He wasn't a bad guy. He was just boring.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Ken Miles. I admitted it to Dr. Botstein when he confronted me. But, thanks for trying to cover."

"Oh." He looked disappointed then suddenly aggravated. "Elizabeth, I think we need to talk."

I sat up a little straighter. Watched his growing somberness through narrowed eyes. "Is there something wrong?"

"Yeah. There is, actually." He glanced around the lounge then set his cup on the table; he leaned closer to me. "If it had been anyone else, anyone but you, I would have told Dr. Botstein that I didn't think a hospital was an appropriate place to play pranks." His jaw ticked before he continued. "As this is your third time acting so unprofessionally, I would have told him I thought you needed to be held accountable."

"Okay." I withdrew my hand from his arm, placed it back on my knee. "I guess, thank you for not saying that to Dr. Botstein."

"This doesn't change how I feel about you. In fact, I'd like very much for us to be more than friends, if you want to know the truth. But you keep behaving in immature and reckless ways-"

"Immature and reckless?" I could take a reprimand from Dr. Botstein, who I respected and admired, but I had difficulty accepting a lecture about maturity from Dull Dr. Ken Miles. "Now, wait a minute. I was playing a harmless prank on April Fool's Day. It's not like I was-"

"Switching a training video with a porn tape?"

I didn't respond. My aggravation was alert level red. Dr. Ken Miles had laughed when I pulled the porno tape prank, and now he was using it as ammunition.

He breathed through his nose, his mouth clamped shut, his nostrils flaring. My eyes shifted to his flaring nostrils.

His flaring nostrils were just. . . aggravating.

In fact, everything about Dr. Ken Miles in that moment aggravated me. The leftover milkshake with a glob of gum floating on top, his prettiness, his lack of humor, his hall monitor goody goody attitude.

I shifted my weight to stand, and his hand reached out to still my movements. "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving. I have work to do."

"I just told you that I want to be more than friends, Elizabeth. I think I deserve a response."

I scoff-snorted. "You also just told me that you think I'm immature and reckless. I think you'll excuse me if I need some time to process this new information first."

Dr. Ken Miles leaned forward, his voice lowering to a harsh whisper. "This is why I haven't acted on my feelings, Elizabeth. I can't be with someone who is incapable of behaving like an adult."

"Says the guy who is always attempting a clandestine nose excavation." I responded before I could stop myself. I knew it was childish to reference Dr. Ken Miles's constant nose picking, but I was angry and reacting as such.

He blinked, flinched. "What?"

I rolled my eyes. "Nothing. Thanks for your honesty." I forced a smile and nodded vigorously. "Mind if I go now?"

His eyes, cornflower blue, were wide with disbelief. He released my arm abruptly, sniffed, and glanced at his shoes. "Fine. Go."

I immediately stood and walked out of the lounge, past the still dozing doctors on the couch, and blindly into the corridor.

Plan Hide the Salami with Dr. Ken Miles was officially on indefinite hold.

I was in a terrible mood, and Janie was still in Boston with Quinn.

Stupid Quinn.

Quinn the friend usurper.

Actually, I liked Quinn. He reminded me of me. And I knew he'd be great to my best friend. But that didn't make the time she was gone any less difficult.

Usually, when either of us were feeling the funk, Janie and I would drink mojitos and watch movies based on comic books-her choice-or 1980s Jon Hughes's movies-my choice.

Instead I went to bed early Sunday night, tossed and turned, and had two dichotomous types of dreams: disturbing dreams about Nico being in danger or frustratingly fantastic dreams about Nico en coitus.

The worst of the nightmares, although I couldn't explain why, involved me running through a crowd trying to find him. Every time I thought I found Nico it turned out to be Dr. Ken Miles. I would turn away from him and continue my search just to find Dr. Ken Miles again. I experienced a high degree of inter-dream anger and despair.

I needed to contact Nico about his security firm. He needed to hire better guards. His lack of appropriate security was interrupting my sleep. Thoughts of him naked were also interrupting my sleep, but there was nothing that could be done about that.