✨snippet✨
thank you @leiawritesstories for un-stucking me with this chapter heheh 🫶
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“Oh, hi, fiancé,” Aelin greeted him. Someone shouted their congratulations in the background. “I am knuckles deep in Major Yellowlegs’ necrotic tissue, and you’re on speaker. Say hi to my OR.”
“Hi,” he awkwardly greeted her co-workers, unused to it. Before they got together, Aelin would ignore his calls for hours and tell him it’s strictly forbidden to answer them in the OR. It’s been a few months since he learned it isn’t—at least not when you’re an attending surgeon. “How’s the Major’s leg?”
Her sigh came out muffled, likely because of her face mask. “Please tell me you won’t ever get a motorcycle.”
With the amount of riders she patches up? A hard pass.
“Even if I wanted to, you ruined them for me. I have kids to raise.”
Then Rowan internally cursed, just remembering that he wasn’t supposed to publicly say kids in plural just yet.
He cleared his throat and decided to go straight to the point.
