You’re perched on the edge of Addison’s desk, barefoot, with your salad container in your lap and her knee brushing yours every time she reaches for her fork. Lunch breaks aren’t always possible, but today you’re making it happen — door closed, phones silenced, a little slice of peace in the middle of a wild clinic day.

Addison’s smiling like she hasn’t in hours. Her heels are kicked off under the desk, and she’s mid-story about a delivery that almost turned into a dance party when—

The door bursts open.

“Addie—have you seen the—oh my God.” Charlotte freezes in the doorway, eyes going wide as she takes in the scene: you on Addison’s desk, Addison leaned back in her chair, both of you clearly mid-cozy-lunch-date.

“Seriously?” Naomi groans as she steps in behind Charlotte. “Do you two ever not look like a rom-com?”

“Oh no, keep going,” Violet teases. “This is the good part where they kiss and feed each other pasta.”

“We’re eating salad,” you say flatly, trying not to smile.

“It’s the emotional intimacy that matters,” Pete adds, already stealing a grape from Addison’s plate like he lives there.

Cooper plops down on the couch, grinning. “I think it’s cute. You guys are like… domestic now.”

Addison arches a brow, clearly pretending to be annoyed but not moving from her relaxed seat.

“This is my office. I can eat lunch with my wife without a peanut gallery, thanks.”

Sam: “You married one of us. That was your first mistake.”

You exchange a look with Addison — she’s annoyed, yes, but there’s a warm glow beneath it. Like no matter how loud or nosy everyone gets, you’re still her favorite part of the day.