Page 9 of The Night Shift
“Cami, don’t be like that —” The line disconnects.
A paperweight settles in my stomach.
I look down at my feet.
The heat from the vents blasts, making the room warmer and warmer; inside my head, it gets colder and colder. A minute passes. Then two. I chug the remainder of my cold, bitter coffeeand get up to neatly wrap the pink, fuzzy blanket over the armrest. I quickly grab the rest of my stuff — my phone and my bag with a change of clothes and some other stuff — and just as I’m putting on my coat, I hear someone knock at the door.
I look up and immediately wish I hadn’t.
A tall, lab-coat-wearing body casually leans against the doorframe with one leg crossed over the other and both hands stuffed inside his pockets.
“Dr. Moore.” A deep accented voice splices through an otherwise quiet room. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
Of course. “You weren’t expecting to see a doctor in the doctor’s lounge?”
The corner of Theo’s mouth quirks up and he tilts his head to the side with a gleam in his eye. “How’d the surgery go?” He steps inside. “Word on the street is you lost a patient tonight?”
When I don’t say anything, he scoffs. “That bad, huh? It’s all right, Hollister.” He pours himself a cup of coffee and takes a long, noisy sip, the sound echoing through the empty room like a vacuum cleaner attempting to suck up the rest of my remaining patience. “Losing a patient isn’t that big of a deal. Every surgeon goes through it. Not me, obviously. But it’d be unfair to ask you to aim for an unattainable standard.”
“Don’tcall me that.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “A surgeon?”
My jaw clenches. I stay silent. Because contrary to that innocent fucking façade of an expression on his face, Theo Carter knowsexactlywhat I’m talking about. There are only two people in my life who even know about that horrendous nickname. One is April and the other is her idiotic fiancé, Parker. One I love to bits and the other I would love to cutintobits. And since Theo and Parker have been friends for a few years now — don’t ask me why, it makes sense to no one — it’s not surprising that he's picked up on how much I actively detest it.
Theo smiles at me and I refrain the urge to slap that smug smile off his stupid face. I steal a glance at my phone. It’s almost eleven. Refusing to stay in this room any longer than I have to, I carefully sidestep around Theo to head towards the exit, but the fucker simply steps forward and blocks my path.
“So tell me, Dr. Moore,” he says, tone neutral.
I have to force myself to breathe through my nose.Do not punch him in the throat, Holly. Do not punch him in the throat, do NOT punch him in the throat.
“How does it feel killing someone?”
My eyes snap up to meet his. “Excuse me?”
“Your patient. How did it feel killing someone?”
The irony of his question isn’t lost on me. “Devastating. Want me to show you?”
Grin widening, he touches his chest, mockingly. “Ouch, love. You wound me.”
“No, but I’m tempted to.” I turn the other way, hoping to leave this room and breathe in some oxygen that hasn’t been contaminated by Satan’s lapdog, but of course, he steps in front of me once again, pinning my feet to the ground.
“Do you need a ride home?” he asks.
“Why? Are you offering?”
“Are you saying yes?”
“I would rather walk into traffic with a blindfold on.”
A soft chuckle leaves his stupid mouth. He sets the coffee mug down and rests his hipbone against the countertop. “Has anybody ever told you how incredibly rude you are?”
“No. Maybe you’re just easily offended.”
“Men are more attracted to women who are mean to them.”
“Thank you for that completely random and untrue fact. Now move.”
