Pulse between us

Second glance

Taliah’s POV

Monday mornings always felt like a restart button — sterile, predictable, safe.

Or at least they used to.

The hospital hums with the sound of shoes against tile, machines beeping faintly down the hall, and the low murmur of staff exchanging reports. I tell myself it’s just another day, but the air feels… different.

I’m setting up the analyzers when Riley, my lab assistant, leans against the counter with a grin.

“You hear about the new imaging review protocol?”

I look up. “No. What about it?”

“They’re pairing departments for cross-evaluations now. Guess who’s with us?”

I already know before she says it.

“Noah Carter,” she finishes with a teasing lilt. “Senior radiographer himself.”

I sigh. “Of course.”

Riley laughs softly. “You sound thrilled.”

“Just surprised.”

Lying comes too easily these days.

Before I can reply, there’s a knock on the doorframe.

“Good morning,” a low voice says.

I don’t have to look. I can feel him there.

Noah stands in the doorway, lab coat crisp, eyes calm, pretending last weekend didn’t exist.

I nod once, professional. “Morning.”

He meets my gaze briefly — too briefly — before turning to Riley.

“Cross-review paperwork,” he says, handing her a folder. “I’ll need Dr. Monroe’s signature when she’s free.”

“I’ll get it done,” I say, taking the folder before Riley can tease.

His fingers brush mine for the briefest second — again, accidental.

The air shifts, familiar and unwanted.

Then Liam’s voice cuts through the doorway.

“Hey, babe—oh, sorry, am I interrupting?”

The word babe lands heavy in the room.

Noah steps back instantly, polite smile in place. “Not at all. We were just finishing up.”

Liam walks in, setting a tray of coffee on the counter. He’s in scrubs, cheerful, unaware of the storm under the surface. Liam works as a nurse in Oceanview medical center.

“I thought you could use a caffeine rescue,” he says, sliding one cup toward me.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

His hand finds my shoulder in a casual, familiar gesture, and when I glance up, Noah’s eyes are already elsewhere — scanning a chart that doesn’t need his attention.

“Good to see you again, Carter,” Liam says with an easy grin.

“You too,” Noah replies, calm as ever. “I’ll be in Radiology if you need me, Dr. Monroe.”

He leaves without another glance.

But I feel the echo of it anyway.

Liam watches him go, brows drawn together. “Didn’t realize you two worked this closely.”

“Neither did I,” I say softly.

He doesn’t press, but something in his expression shifts — quiet suspicion wrapped in patience.

When he leaves, Riley clears her throat, trying not to smile. “So… that was intense.”

I glare at her. “Not a word.”

She raises her hands, laughing. “Not saying anything. Just… wow.”

I turn back to the analyzer, pretending to read a sample log, but my hands won’t stop shaking.

Because no matter how hard I try, I can still feel Noah’s glance like static on my skin — brief, charged, and impossible to ignore.