Page 25 of Dr. Roz Harrington
Roz’s pulse quickened, her back pressed against the wall as Sam invaded her space. “I?—”
Before she could finish, Sam leaned in, her breath warm against Roz’s ear. “Because I seem to remember a certain neurosurgeon turning me into a mindless, needy slut the last time we were alone.”
Roz froze, her heart slamming against her ribs as the words registered. Her green eyes widened, and a flush crept up her neck. “Sam,” she hissed, glancing around the empty hallway.
Sam pulled back slightly, her smirk unapologetic. “What? Am I wrong?”
Roz swallowed hard, her body betraying her with the wave of heat that surged through her. She should have been furious, but instead, all she felt was a sharp pang of desire, and somethingdeeper, something she couldn’t quite name. Sam’s confidence and her ability to lay Roz bare with just a few words were equal parts infuriating and magnetic.
“You’re lucky we’re in a hospital,” Roz said finally, her voice low and dangerous. “Or I’d show you just how wrong you are.”
Sam chuckled, her gaze dropping to Roz’s lips before meeting her eyes again. “You say that, but I think you like it when I get under your skin.”
Roz exhaled sharply, shaking her head as she tried to regain her composure. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re beautiful when you’re flustered,” Sam replied, her tone softening. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Roz’s wrist in a fleeting touch that made Roz’s breath hitch.
The moment hung between them, heavy with unspoken words and undeniable tension. Roz wanted to push Sam away, to reassert the walls she’d spent years building, but instead, she found herself leaning into the connection, even as it terrified her.
“You make me crazy,” Roz murmured, her voice barely audible.
Sam’s smile softened, her hand lingering on Roz’s wrist. “Good. Because you drive me crazy too.”
For a moment, Roz allowed herself to feel it—the pull, the connection, the vulnerability. But then the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the moment, and she pulled away, her mask slipping back into place.
“We can’t keep doing this,” Roz said, her voice steadier now, though her heart still raced.
Sam stepped back, her hands slipping into her pockets again. “Maybe. But we will.”
Roz’s lips twitched, a reluctant smile threatening to break through. “You’re infuriating.”
“And you love it,” Sam shot back, her smirk returning.
Roz shook her head, turning to leave. But as she walked away, she couldn’t stop the small, knowing smile that crept across her face or the way her chest ached with something dangerously close to hope.
Roz leaned back against the door of her apartment, the sound of it clicking shut behind her echoing in the quiet space. The tension she had carried all day weighed heavily on her chest. She kicked off her heels, her fingers absently rubbing at her temples as she crossed the room. The warmth of her rustic sanctuary with its exposed brick walls and soft, ambient lighting should have been a comfort, but tonight it wasn’t enough to settle her thoughts.
Sam’s words lingered, looping through her mind like an insistent melody she couldn’t ignore:
“I seem to remember a certain neurosurgeon turning into a mindless, needy slut the last time we were alone.”
Roz exhaled sharply, the memory of Sam’s voice and the smug look on her face igniting a fresh wave of something she couldn’t quite name. It was maddening, how easily Sam got under her skin.
She poured herself a glass of wine, the deep red liquid swirling as she carried it to the couch. Sitting down, she leaned back, one leg tucked beneath her as she stared at the muted glow of the city outside her window. The wineglass was cool in her hand, the warmth of the drink spreading slowly through her chest, but it didn’t quiet her thoughts.
Roz replayed the day’s events, dissecting every moment with Sam. Their heated exchange in the quiet hallway had been reckless, even dangerous, but it had also been exhilarating. Shehad never let anyone talk to her like that, never let anyone challenge her so openly and so intimately. And yet, with Sam, it didn’t feel like a threat. It felt like a dance, a push and pull that left her breathless.
She thought about the way Sam had looked at her, those piercing blue eyes filled with mischief and something deeper, something that made Roz’s chest ache. Sam’s ability to peel back her defenses with just a few words was both infuriating and magnetic. Roz had spent years building walls, protecting herself from vulnerability and intimacy. But with Sam, those walls felt fragile.
She sipped her wine, her free hand trailing along the edge of the couch. What was it about Sam that made her feel this way? That made her want to step out of her carefully constructed world and risk everything? Roz wasn’t just afraid of losing control. She was terrified of what would happen if she let Sam in and it all fell apart.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, the sound snapping her out of her thoughts. She picked it up, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Sam’s name on the screen.
Sam:“Still surviving?”
Roz smiled faintly, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. She typed a response but hesitated, her fingers pausing as doubt crept in.
Roz:“Barely. You have a habit of making my life…complicated.”
