17. Doc
I ’m used to stitching up people who get on the wrong side of Tennant and Cristian, even Roman—when he needs to prove he’s more than just a pretty face. This is the first time I’ve had to do it for Hollis. In truth, I’m surprised the guy is still alive.
Dropping the needle onto the tray, I wipe my gloves quickly before picking up the bandage.
“Well, you’ll live,” I tell the guy—Jude—as I affix the bandage to his injury site. Looking at Hollis, I give him a small smirk and say, “Nice work.”
He got him precisely just beside his kidney. Deep enough to require stitches, but not enough to worry about accidentally nicking the organ. I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone personally trained by Tennant, though.
Turning my attention back to Jude, I give him the usual spiel that comes with almost being murdered. “Come see me in a week and I’ll assess how you’re doing. If you feel any heat coming from the site, any odd smells, or puss, or anything that just seems off, make sure you come back in sooner.”
The look he gives says he would rather do anything except that, but he doesn’t get a choice. I’ll have him dragged in kicking and screaming if I have to. Everyone who crosses my path is my patient until I say otherwise, something he’ll learn quickly, whether he wants to or not.
“Thanks, Doc, he’ll be here,” Hollis says, giving the younger man a look I recognize from how many times I’ve seen him give it to Roman.
Heading to the small desk shoved in the corner of the medical room, I pull open the top drawer and grab a business card. I hold it out to Jude. “Here, call if you need help and can’t make it in. Or text me with any questions.”
He shoves the card into his pocket, and I’m sure the maids will find it in the trash of Hollis’s office.
Hollis ushers his young man out of my office, leaving me alone for a moment until Soren comes back in the room. Since Hollis brought Jude in while Soren was on his break, and it was a simple procedure, I didn’t bother calling him in, so he hung out in the hall when he realized I had company and didn’t need him.
Going back to the desk, I grab a stack of business cards and shove them in Soren’s direction. “Here, James and Kail usually keep these on them for me, so now that’s part of your job.”
Soren frowns but doesn’t argue, and instead shoves the stack into the pocket of his scrubs. He stares at me with those bright blue eyes of his and I try hard not to squirm. I can still feel the shape of his lips on my own from last weekend, and being this close to him has me wanting to do it again.
“Do you always have such bad bedside manner?” he asks. I assume he overheard the last part of the spiel I gave Jude.
He tilts his head slightly as he studies me, causing some of his light blond hair to fall into his big blue eyes. The picture he makes has a shiver running down my spine.
His face is one of pure innocence, the freckles on his rounded cheeks and across his nose are a nice touch that any unsuspecting person would fall hook, line, and sinker for. I know better. His dominance practically oozes out of him as he waits for me to answer his seemingly innocent question.
Scoffing, I shake my head and round the desk to finish cleaning up the supplies that I used to patch Jude up. Technically, it’s Soren’s job to do it, but I need something to distract me from him and his all-knowing gaze.
“My bedside manner is fine. I can’t hold their hands when it’s a life or death situation. Which, if Hollis wanted to, he could have killed Jude. So, no, my bedside manner is not up for debate.”
Soren sidles up to me, and the heat of his body through our clothes has me biting my tongue to keep from making a noise.
“And if someone asked you to be nicer to your patients? Especially since most would risk their lives for yours?” His words are soft and said with enough suggestion that I can read between the lines.
“Too bad I don’t care what others think of the way I work,” I snap back, trying desperately to hold onto my composure.
He hums and presses himself against me. He’s short enough that his breath ghosts across my neck, making me shiver once more. “I don’t like liars, Dr. Wescott.”
I barely hold in my flinch at the sound of my surname. “Doc,” I manage to say. “My name is Doc.”
Soren presses himself harder against my side, lifting his head to rest his chin on my shoulder while I studiously do my best to ignore him. “Doc is so…unfitting for a boy, don’t you think? How can I tease you with a name like that?”
Shifting away from him, I finally look into those bright blue eyes, taking enjoyment in the way they widen at whatever he must see in my own hard stare. I have to give Soren credit, he doesn’t back down, but his stance does soften a little, as if he realizes he’s gone too far.
“It’s. My. Name,” I grind out. “I ask that you respect that, or your uncle will have nothing but a death certificate to send to your mother.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I know better than to cross a boundary.”
Our gazes hold and I see the truth in those bright eyes of his. And I want to believe he’s sincere, but a lifetime of being around skillful liars like Tennant has taught me differently.
“I am sorry, Doc,” he repeats. “I went too far.”
I give him a sharp nod. “You did. Call me whatever you want, Soren. I’ve been anything and everything in my time, but my name is just that. Mine. Nobody else is allowed to change it.”
“You’re right.” He moves closer again and I let him, though the adrenaline running through me right now wants nothing more than to take the scalpel hidden up my sleeve and slit his throat. An extreme reaction, sure, but again, raised alongside Tennant, sometimes the most volatile instinct is the first one.
“We don’t know each other, Doc. I’m sorry I stepped on a boundary. I’ll do my best not to, but that will only improve with time, and you telling me what you want and need. You know how this works, da? Know that ground rules need to be established and consented to in order to prevent hurt feelings and mishaps.”
I let out a shaky breath and relax a little, my heart rate slowing as his calm words wash over me. He’s saying all the right things, but trust is hard. Especially since, as he pointed out, we don’t know one another.
Almost without thought, I take a step closer and look down at his sweet, innocent-looking face. “You make my head do crazy things, Soren.”
“Same, Doc,” he whispers. “Same.” He reaches up and lightly grips my chin. “Can I kiss you?”
I manage a nod and a breathy yes, and then he’s tugging me down to him, his lips on mine.
The kiss is soft, gentle, a slow exploration of mouths as two people learn each other. It’s everything I want in a kiss, and the reason I usually avoid them with people; it’s too easy to fall head over heels for a kiss like this.
His grip on my chin is firm, but he doesn’t try to touch me anywhere else, and I’m thankful for it. Just this alone is enough to make my body tremble and my heart stutter in my chest.
When he pulls away, he wipes his thumb across my bottom lip. “We should talk, because I want to do so much more than this.”
Letting out a heavy breath, I agree. “Not here, though. Come home with me after work.”
“Okay.”
One last kiss before we pull away completely, both of us knowing there needs to be more words than physical touch between us before this gets out of hand. Like it hasn’t already.