Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Chapter 313

#Chapter 313 – Cora at Home

Cora

When I wake up it’s almost eight at night and I groan, realizing that my sleep schedule is

completely wrecked. I’m reminded, suddenly, of my years as a medical resident when this sort of thing was normal – sleeping all day, taking night shifts, living moment to moment rather than a steady, scheduled life.

And quite frankly, right now? That sounds really wonderful, compared against a whole night of empty hours in which I have nothing to do but… think.

Think about what I’m doing in my life, think about my career which has gone in a really weird direction, think about my relationship…s.

About a certain kiss in the woods.

About a sweet doctor who, apparently, wants to build a life with me.

I sigh and sit up, looking around at my sterile little apartment. I never really decorated, I realize as

I look around at the grey and beige furniture, the simple linens, the charmless curtains. Everything is functional and high quality but none of it is… me?

Or is it?

I frown at my space, thinking of Ella’s sweet home that – even though Sinclair picked out most of the furniture before she moved in – still sings Ella Ella Ella in every corner. It’s warm and sweet

and comfortable. What does my space say about me?

I mean, I’m an orphan – I never had any possessions or any control over the environments in

which I lived, so where would I have learned to decorate? I never had a mother to show me how

So where did Ella…

I groan, rolling my eyes at myself, sick, again, of being jealous of my sister.

I love her so, so much – and I’m so happy she has what she wants in her life. But sometimes she’s just so….perfect. That it makes me realize how unhappy I am, when I stand next to her.

I roll over, reaching for my phone, seeking some kind of distraction from these disquieting- thoughts. But when I pick it up the first thing I see is one of those relationships I’m trying to avoid leaving me an assortment of messages. I sigh and click open my message app.

Hank: Hey, Cora – how did the baptism go? Dinner later?

Hank: Cora? You okay?

2

Hank: Hey, send me a text when you get up – I know you were up all night but I’m worried that I

haven’t heard from you.

Sighing, I swipe the messages away and click through the rest of my phone, trying, determinedly,

to not let it bother me that there’s nothing at all from Roger. Not a peep. As I take a deep breath and check my email, another message from Hank pops up.

Hank: Hey, are you home? I’m… I mean, this is a little pathetic, but I’m outside. Can you let me in? I

your apartment door…

My heart twinges a little bit when I see that. Hank. He’s being so sweet and I’m…well, I’m not being fair to him, am I?

Ella’s right. I’m holding a space for Roger, one he doesn’t even want – despite what might have passed between us last night, it doesn’t change anything. And there’s a man standing outside my door with mooshoo pork, dying to love me.

God, what’s wrong with me? Quickly, I jump out of my bed and dash for the front door of my apartment.

When I get to it, I yank it open, hoping

Hank jumps a little, his eyes going wide, accidentally dropping the large bag of Chinese on the little mail table I keep outside my door. “Gah!”

smiling at him, “I just woke up – we were up all night. It’s – I’m very sorry. I

says, giving me his rare, warm smile. “I

my door frame and gesturing towards my little apartment. “I am…well,

says, his lips turning up a bit at the

spread out around us on the coffee table, eating right out of the containers with the supplied chopsticks, Hank tells me all about his day. He held down the fort at the little free clinic we both work at, seeing both

a busy day with some tricky cases. I watch Hank closely as he tells me his story, my eyes flicking over his handsome, serious face –

that

focus on him.

listen to his words. Then, I grimace a little. I’m sorry, Hank,” I say, giving him an

hand, squeezing it a bit before sitting back. “I was just curious if you think Ella would want to

broccoli and picking up a morsel. “But she doesn’t have

”

need most.”

thinking about administration,” Hank says, swirling some noodles around his chopsticks. “And it’s true that she doesn’t have medical experience, but she does have…healing

head

powers,”

mother’s gift?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at

And then I saw her, before my eyes, almost instantly heal wounds that should have incapacitated her for days. If she were able to harness

my mother’s power for the practice of medicine. It seemed somehow… too sacred, too special, to be used to heal bumps and bruises. But could it, should it, be used to cure people on the edge

fight things like terminal cancer, or

gift back to Ella – and our mother gave it to her in the first place. It’s hers to use as she

it, would I use it differently than Ella might?

Hank says softly. “Did I…was it wrong to suggest it?”

attention back to him. “Um, but it’s a bigger question than just I can answer.

Hank says with a smile, “now that she’s feeling better, maybe we can have that conversation soon. If the gift

excited. “And it’s not like she’s got anything else on her plate at

the container of food out of my hands and putting it on the table next to me. “At least, not for the next twelve hours or so, until we have to go

he moves his body over mine, bringing his face close to me and slipping a hand behind my back.

that hand on my back to lay me

– Reinforcements

Cora

the sheets of my bed, talking softly to each other about nothing,

–

Hank gasps, sitting up and whipping his head to look

my apartment.

and we both sit

and my jaw drops a little because…well, because I know that voice. “Open

damn door, Cora!”

wrapping my naked body in my sheets – weirdly bashful in this moment. As I do, the pounding starts

know who it is?” Hank asks, hurriedly getting out of bed and pulling his

quickly switching the sheets for my robe hanging on the back

living

bedroom, sees

open.

but he drops it

Cora,” he growls, storming past me into the apartment, “don’t you ever

pho-

sees Hank standing in the doorway to my bedroom, pulling on his shirt. And then Roger turns slowly and looks at

slamming the door shut and

growls, snapping out of his shock and turning his attention to me as he blatantly ignores Hank. “It’s a crisis – Ella and Sinclair

hour –”

—

I gasp, looking all over – and then finally spotting my phone, wedged between the pillows of the couch. I dash to it and grab it and see that Roger is right that Ella has been calling

  1. do.

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this all about “I stutter in fear, my heart suddenly in my throat. I can’t grasp the whole situation – but there’s

–

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