A forced proximity MM medical romance where a billionaire playboy trades his penthouse for the graveyard shift… and his grumpy boss is the real emergency. Spite is a powerful sedative. But in the ER, adrenaline is the only drug that matters. Preston York has spent his entire life as the "Spare" of the York dynasty: the fun one, the flighty one, the one expected to do nothing more than look good in a tuxedo. But when his older brother Maxwell, the Golden Boy Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery, makes a bet that Preston wouldn't last a week in the real world, Preston decides to prove him wrong. He trades his silk sheets for scrubs, his brunch dates for the graveyard shift, and his dignity for a pair of rubber gloves. He's ready for the blood, the guts, and the exhaustion. He is not ready for his boss. Dr. Lucas Silva clawed his way up from a fourth-floor walk-up in Queens to become the Chief Resident of St. Jude's. He runs on caffeine, grit, and the crushing weight of his family's expectations. He has zero patience for tourists, especially not the entitled, devastatingly handsome son of the Chairman of the Board who wears Gucci loafers to a trauma activation. Luke is convinced Preston is just slumming it before retreating to the safety of the boardroom. Preston is determined to prove he's more than a last name. But navigating residency is impossible when the entire York clan is breathing down your neck. Between Maxwell micromanaging from the surgical wing, Jax O'Connell treating the trauma bay like a contact sport, and a mother who tries to bribe hospital administration into treating her dog, Preston is fighting a war on all fronts. As the late nights blur into early mornings and the shared on-call room gets smaller by the hour, the friction between the Spare and the Chief Resident sparks into something neither of them signed up for. But when the family legacy offers Preston a golden parachute back to his old life, he has to decide: is he playing doctor, or
