9. Savannah
nine
Savannah
My feet are heavy, like I’m trudging through quicksand, as I drag them across the pavement towards the open and waiting elevator.
I’m so freaking exhausted; I can barely keep my eyes open.
It must be the new moon or something because I had way too many little patients visiting me today. Gashes to the head and broken bones are standard, but the little girl who came in at the end of my shift with headaches, fatigue, joint pain, and swollen lymph nodes stumped me.
There’s just something about Madison’s symptoms that niggle the back of my brain. I don’t know what it is, but it’s right there on the edge of my consciousness, driving me crazy. I hope the blood test I ordered will give me a clue about what’s going on with her.
With a yawn, I swipe my card and press the button for my floor. Nothing. I swipe my card again, and the elevator doesn’t budge, which can only mean one thing.
Nico freaking Romero.
I haven’t seen the man since he came to my rescue the other night. My cheeks flush hot with embarrassment. I didn’t mean to fall asleep and miss the beep of the oven. I swear I know how to cook. I’m not the best, but I can make a mean omelet, and I can bake the hell out of some premade cookies.
Work has been extra busy for me with Talia gone on her honeymoon. Her presence makes all the difference. She does so much for me and the rest of my doctors that we’re all a little lost without her.
The roar of a familiar car engine sends my heart galloping out of my chest. I peek my head out of the elevator and glance towards the emergency staircase.
It’s now or never, my brain screams.
My sore feet refuse to take one flight of stairs, let alone twenty.
The engine cuts off, and it’s too late for me to make a run for it.
I watch him climb out of his car and stride my way, unaware of my presence. In head-to-toe black, just like his car, Nico looks like sin and sex on wheels, and every bit the bad boy baseball player everyone says he is.
His black dress shirt is rolled to his elbows, revealing his corded and inked arms, and his black slacks are tailored to his thick thighs to perfection.
His dark hair is getting a little longer and is swooped back off his face.
Nico rubs his temples as he stares down at his feet, still not noticing me lurking.
My body, being an absolute traitor, reacts like a foolish teen with a crush at the sight of him. My stomach flips, my mouth waters, and my skin crawls with electricity, making the little hairs stand on end.
I step back into the elevator, lean against the back wall so I don’t look like a creep for checking him out, and wait.
Nico steps inside, and his leathery cologne fills the space, smelling clean and delicious. I fight the urge to wipe my mouth to check for drool.
“Hey,” I croak.
At the sound of my voice, his head snaps up. His usually silver eyes are almost black as his left eyelid spasms. He grimaces and grunts at me, not bothering to say hi back.
Rude.
I watch as he slides his black card over the keypad and presses PH. At his command, the elevator doors close and we begin our ascent to the top floor.
“Must be nice,” I mumble under my breath, unable to hide my irritation at him and his stupid card. I could have been in my apartment already if it weren’t for him and his voodoo magic card.
“Excuse me?” His voice is pure gravel, like he hasn’t spoken in some time.
“Nothing.” I zip my mouth shut and cross my arms over my chest.
Nico moves to the back wall and leans against it, mirroring my position, and drops his head back. He rubs his temples again, tilting his head from side to side as if the muscles in his neck are stiff.
My spidey sense kicks in. I might be a pediatrician, but I know when someone’s in pain. Curious, I ask, “Are you okay?”
“Peachy,” he grunts sarcastically. His aura is giving off major “don’t talk to me” vibes, and I can’t help poking at him.
“A rotten peach,” I mumble, too low for him to hear again.
We both know he’s not fine, but if he doesn’t want to talk about what’s wrong, I’m good with that too. He is not my business, and I should not care about him.
At all. Period.
He turns to me, eyebrows furrowed. His demeanor is such a dichotomy from when I met him last. Gone is the suave and cocky man with a sinful smile. He’s been replaced with a dark, grumpy ass.
“If you have something to say, say it loud enough for me to hear?”
“Rude much?” I snap.
Nico glares at me like he’s thinking about punishing me, and somehow the angry look is even sexier than his cocky smirk.
Oh Goddess, what is wrong with me?
“Do not start with me right now. I am not in the mood,” he growls.
Oh hell, my core spasms at the sound, getting off on his rough and authoritative voice. Shut it down, Savannah.
When his eye twitches again, I push my attraction way down—like, to basement levels—and lock the doors with a chain.
“Is there something wrong with your eye?” I ask, concerned about him.
“No.” He exhales sharply.
I can tell something is wrong, but he’s being a stubborn ass. I’d put money on his not liking to ask for help.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, it’s just a tic when I get… Never mind.” He slams his mouth shut, making me more curious.
Putting aside my loyalty to Charlotte, and my disdain—albeit my slight attraction to him—I want to help him if I can. It’s the doctor in me. Helping people is my calling.
“A tic when you get what?” I press.
He shakes his head. “Leave it alone. It’s just a tic, and you don’t need to worry about it. I don’t need your help.”
“It’s just a tic,” I mock.
“Exactly, a tic.”
Wait?
“It’s just a tic,” I whisper. My thoughts bounce around like a pinball in my skull.
“That’s what I said. A tic,” he says again, and it’s as if the pinball in my brain hits the bonus at that moment. All the lights, bells and whistles go off simultaneously.
“Oh my goddess, that’s it.” A tick.
Adrenaline shoots through as the missing piece of the puzzle falls into place. Madison has to have a tick bite somewhere, and my guess is on her head. I can feel it in my bones; this is it. Early signs of Lyme disease.
“What’s it?” He looks confused and squeezes the bridge of his nose.
I can’t help grinning when he turns his rich charcoal eyes on me. “You just helped me figure out what is wrong with my patient.”
“I did?” Nico looks confused as hell, but I’m soaring with relief. The elevator dings, and the doors open.
“Yep, thanks, Nicolas.” I don’t bother getting off the elevator and immediately push the button for the basement.
“Where the hell are you going? It’s late.” Something an awful lot like concern for me flashes across his face.
His concern settles over me like a warm blanket, but I push the feeling away and roll my eyes at him instead. “Back to work, where I’m going to go save a nine-year-old. Or at least I hope I can.”
Nico nods in understanding. He steps out of the elevator and turns to face me. As the doors close, he gives me a crooked smile, like it pains him to do so, and says, “I know you will.”
My ribs squeeze at the confidence laced in his parting words. Like he has faith in me to save a child’s life. To do anything I set my mind to. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in Nico’s tone.
It’s a dangerous and new feeling for me. In all the time I was with Bradley, not once did he make me feel competent, let alone like a hero.
Four simple words from Nico, and I feel like I can conquer anything.
This is so not good.
In fact, it’s bad.
Really, really bad.