Page 41 of Empty Heat
“Lev?” The word wavered on the air. “It’s not—you don’t have to. You’re not assigned to my case. So if you don’t want—”
“Yes.” I interrupted him before he could churn himself into deeper concern. “But because I’m no longer part of your team, you need to understand something.”
“What?” He lifted himself up.
“It would be because I want to. Not a job. I can’t pretend it would be a job with you, Callum, or I would be dishonest all over again.”
A look of fear flashed in his blue eyes. “I fired you. I could re-hire you.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to say. I mean it would not feel like a job to me now.”
“But what does that mean? Not feel like a job?”
“It means I’m attracted to you, and you should know that because it’s part of what makes you uncomfortable around alphas, right? It needs to be stated up front. I’ve been worried about you even though you’re no longer my job. I have been thinking about you non-stop.”
“Oh.” He scrunched his facial muscles, taking it all in.
“I will do the job if you ask it and mask all else. I can do my job impeccably. But you should know that for me, right now, I’m outside the job. My feelings are outside the job. I rushed over here not because I had to but because I wanted to. When you called, I was glad. This is me being honest now. No more deception.”
“You were glad when I called?” Almost a whisper.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” He glanced around, then met my eyes. “It feels good to hear you say that. But—but I do need a surrogate. I am—Ineedthat.”
“I can offer that. I’m simply putting it all up front. We made a connection. It wasn’t just you, Callum, who felt it. I did, too.”
“I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure.” He turned away from me, putting his arm over his face.
“And?” I needed him to tell me what thoughts my confession prompted.
“You were honest. Now, I will be honest. I would rather have someone who I felt connected with than some robot. At first, I think the idea of a medical hands-on approach comforted me. But not now. It sounds horrible. I want it with you because of that connection. Is that wrong?”
“Not at all. But for me, it’s a conflict.”
“But you’re not assigned to my case any longer. Is it still a conflict?” He moved his arm and turned his head to look at me.
He made me smile. His mind was quick. He was so innocent in so many ways, yet so bright, too. He seemed mature beyond his years. But also suffering.
“It is a little bit of a conflict,” I confessed. “Because I’m worried for you. And now I care about you. I don’t want you hurt.”
He sat up, turning on the bed so he leaned over me. “Hurt here?” He touched his chest, then his forehead. “Or just my body?”
How beautiful he was.
“Hmm. Both.”
“That answer means everything to me. I’m searching my mind and body for my usual fears and they’re there, but less. Much less. Like waiting to see what happens. Other alphas didn’t care. Or at least they didn’t tell me they did. But you have told me just now. And I believe you.”
Innocent wasn’t the right word to describe him. More like honest, authentic, pure. I liked that word pure. I thought of it as a state of being. He was a good person, clear of motive. He wanted so badly to let himself feel.
In our particular ways, we’d both held ourselves back, me in my job, and Callum because of his condition.
I realized we both could be crossing huge lines here. Mine involved my job if things progressed. His involved exposing a medical vulnerability to someone he had to trust would not freak out about that, which of course I would never do.
“So your answer is?” he asked.
“My answer is yes,” I repeated. “Of course, yes.”
