Page 15 of Dr. Roz Harrington
Sam:“Careful, Doc. You might be biting off more than you can chew.”
Roz’s response was playful but edged with heat.
Roz:“Oh, I can handle it. The question is, can you?”
Sam felt the corner of her mouth twitch into a smirk, the weight of the day slipping away as she let herself get swept intothe exchange. She leaned back, stretching her legs out as her thumbs danced over the keyboard.
Sam:“Big talk for someone hiding behind a screen.”
Roz:“Who says I’m hiding?”
The words hung in the air, taunting Sam. She stared at them, the weight of Roz’s challenge pressing against her chest. Part of her wanted to end it, to retreat before she went too far. But the other part—the part that still felt the ghost of Roz’s touch, the heat of her lips—couldn’t resist.
Sam:“You think you’re clever, don’t you?”
Roz:“I think you like it.”
Sam let out a low laugh, shaking her head as she typed.
Sam:“Maybe.”
There was a pause, and then Roz’s next message landed like a spark in a dry forest.
Roz:“Just maybe?”
Sam’s smirk widened, her confidence growing with each beat of the conversation.
Sam:“Keep pushing, Doc. You might find out.”
Roz’s response was slower this time, but when it came, it hit Sam like a punch to the gut.
Roz:“Careful, Captain. You might like where it leads.”
Sam swallowed hard, her pulse pounding in her ears. The tension between them was almost tangible now, and she knew they were standing on the edge of something dangerous. But instead of pulling back, Sam leaned forward, her thumbs flying over the screen.
Sam:“I’m starting to think you like playing with fire.”
Roz:“Only if it’s worth getting burned.”
Sam’s breath caught. She stared at the screen, her chest tight, her mind racing. She was teetering on the edge, and for once, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hold on or let go.
And judging by Roz’s words, she wasn’t the only one.
The following days passed in a haze of tension and stolen moments. Sam’s phone had become her greatest distraction, the faint buzz of a new message pulling her out of meetings, drills, and even moments of calm at the firehouse. She hated herself for how often she checked it, the rush of adrenaline she felt when Roz’s name appeared lighting up her screen.
Their text conversations had grown bolder, each exchange peeling back a layer of restraint. What started as playful banter had turned into something else, something charged and dangerous.
On Tuesday morning, Sam found herself getting lost in a text vortex with Roz again.Roz:“How’s the firehouse today? Any chaos?”
Sam:“Nothing I can’t handle. You? Saving the world one brain at a time?”
Roz:“Just another Tuesday. Though I’ve been thinking about you.”
Sam’s heart stopped. She stared at the screen, rereading the words before her fingers moved on their own.
Sam:“Oh yeah? And what exactly have you been thinking?”
The reply was instant, as if Roz had been waiting for the question.
