Chapter 19 #2
By lunchtime, I’m exhausted from the effort of maintaining my professional facade while simultaneously trying to block out the emotional feedback coming through the bond. I retreat to the small break room, hoping for a few minutes of solitude to collect myself.
And also starve, because I didn’t pack a lunch like I normally do. There is no way I can make it to the town’s only restaurant open for lunch and back before an hour is up with the roads still so bad.
Noah appears in the doorway just as I’m unwrapping a granola bar I found in my bag.
“Dr. Chang,” he says, his voice softer than it’s been all morning. “I thought we might have lunch together. There are some things we should discuss.”
My heart rate spikes again, and I feel an answering pulse from his side of the bond. There is no way to completely hide my reactions from him now, which only makes me more anxious at what he might be getting from me through the bond.
“I’m not hungry,” I lie, even as my stomach growls traitorously. “And I have charts to review.”
Noah steps fully into the room, closing the door behind him. The small space suddenly feels much smaller with his presence filling it.
“Holly,” he says, using my first name for the first time today. “I can tell that you’re starving. And anxious. And trying very hard to pretend that everything is the same as it was a few days ago.”
I freeze, the granola bar halfway to my mouth as he sets down a fancy, reusable thermal lunchbag and unloads several containers of food.
“We’re not going to talk about it right now.
Because we’re at work and I need a bit of time to get my thoughts back into a logical order,” Noah murmurs as he takes a plate out of the cupboard and systematically serves a balanced selection of baked chicken, scalloped potatoes and grilled vegetables.
“But we will talk soon. For right now, I really need you to eat so I can focus on my actual job for the rest of the afternoon. Your empty stomach is practically screaming at me. It’s distracting. ”
He sets the full plate in front of me, along with a fork resting on top of a folded paper towel. When I take a bite and realize that he took the time to warm up the containers before serving me, I feel inexplicably near tears.
It takes a few minutes for me to be able to speak again, partly because it’s hard not to devote my full attention to the food.
But I’m also worried that if I open my mouth without sticking a fork in it that I’ll say something insane, like I want to sit on his knot while stuffing myself with what might be the most deliciously cheesy potatoes I’ve ever eaten.
That’s crazy.
That would be the most insane thing imaginable. Obviously, parts of my brain are still soaking in heat hormones.
And if I say it enough times, I might be able to convince myself of that.
After about ten minutes, I have myself under enough control to talk like a normal person. “When you were already gone this morning, I thought maybe you were…”
“Thinking it wouldn’t be a great idea for us to show up together still smelling like each other,” Noah finishes, eyebrow raised in faint challenge. “I figured you wouldn’t want everyone here to jump to conclusions.”
When he points it out, I feel even stupider.
“I did shower this morning,” I grouse.
His nostrils flare, wide chest rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. “It’s going to take more than that. I scented you the minute you stepped foot in the waiting room.”
Suddenly stricken, I take a sniff of my collar. “You don’t think anyone else can tell, do you?”
“Um, no…” he starts, seeming suddenly uncomfortable. “I think it’s just me. You know because of the…”
He trails off, but I don’t bother to finish the sentence. The word he is very careful not to use echoes in my head.
Because of the bond.
“Speaking of, I thought you might be wanting these.” Noah reaches into his lab coat and sets something on the table in front of me. “I assume your long-term plans haven’t changed.”
I stare at the orange prescription bottle on the table, my name printed neatly on the label. The sight of it—exactly what I’ve been desperately searching for—renders me speechless.
“Is that…”
“Your specific dosage and formulation of Omegablock,” he finishes, leaning back enough in the plastic chair to make it creak under his weight.
My fingers hover over the bottle, afraid it might vanish if I touch it. “How did you get this?”
“You might have noticed that I’m running the only medical clinic for two hundred miles.
I’m used to finding creative solutions to medical issues.
” There is mild censure in his voice, though that might just be something I feel through the bond.
“If you’d told me what you needed earlier, I probably could have gotten you a refill before the storm hit. ”
I wish I knew whether that’s regret I hear in his voice or if my guilt is just telling me to expect it.
The accusation stings, but he’s right. I wrap my hand around the bottle, feeling the weight of the pills inside. The relief is almost dizzying as I take one out and swallow it dry.
“Thank you,” I whisper, unable to meet his eyes.
“Your secret wasn’t worth risking your health over.” Noah’s hand briefly rubs his chest, the move compulsive as if he isn’t even aware of doing it. “Though I suppose it’s too late for that now.”
He abruptly stands, muttering something about needing to get back to work. I’m suddenly desperate to explain myself, to make him understand why I’ve been hiding, even though I know that no explanation would be adequate for what I’ve done.
“I’m sorry,” I say automatically, though I’m not entirely sure what I’m apologizing for. For bonding with him? For lying about being hungry when it was enough for him to feel through the bond? For all of it?
Noah takes a step closer, and I have to fight the urge to clamber up to meet him. His nearness makes it hard to think and easy to forget that he has every reason to despise me. The bond pulls at me, wanting to close the distance between us.
Before I can decide between throwing myself at him and jumping out a nearby window, the break room door swings open hard enough to hit the opposite wall.
A man old enough for his hair to be more salt than pepper and wearing a crisp white coat strides into the break room, stopping short when he sees us, his eyebrows rising slightly.
“Noah, I see you and our new resident are getting along,” he says, his voice carrying the authority that comes from years of being in charge.
He turns to me and offers his hand, grip firm when I shake it.
“Welcome, welcome, I’m Dr. Mercer. Apologies for missing your first week, but I assume you’ve been in good hands. ”
I nearly swallow my tongue at the reminder of exactly how good Noah’s hands have been, but manage a greeting that sounds at least somewhat coherent.
Noah straightens, his demeanor shifting back to the professional mask he’s worn all morning. “Welcome back, Victor. Yes, Dr. Chang and I have been able to manage.”
Dr. Mercer keeps his attention on me, his gaze assessing in a way that makes me want to stand straighter. “I’ve heard good things about your work so far. I look forward to seeing what else you’ll bring to our little corner of medical heaven.”
I force a smile, extending my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Mercer. I’m looking forward to learning from you.”
As we shake hands, I notice Dr. Mercer’s nostrils flare slightly, and a frown crosses his face. He glances between Noah and me, his expression curious before he brusquely turns away.
“I should get caught up on what I’ve missed. Noah, perhaps you could brief me after you finish lunch?”
“I’m finished now,” Noah says, backing smoothly away from the table without sparing me a glance. “I’ll meet you in the medical library.”
Dr. Mercer nods and exits, leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake.
“He knows about the bond,” I whisper, panic rising in my chest. “He could smell it on us.”
“He doesn’t. Victor has always had some mild boundary issues.” Noah shakes his head, avoiding my gaze. “You’re back to smelling like a beta, maybe a little like me but not enough to arouse suspicion when we’ve been working together. I wouldn’t have let you leave the house, otherwise.”
“Let me…?” I repeat, immediately affronted. Nobody lets me do anything. But I slam my mouth shut at the look he shoots me.
I’d love to point out that he didn’t even bother to wait for me this morning. Not to mention, running out of the room without a word and locking the door behind him after I bit him and not speaking to me for over a day.
But now probably isn’t the time for me to try climbing for the moral high ground. I am the one who fucked up and got us into this mess.
Then again, nobody told him to come riding to the rescue like storybook heroes. I never asked for his help.
“I can’t really even remember what you smell like,” I inform him neutrally, picking up my plate to take it to the sink.
“I don’t know if this is normal for a heat, but I barely feel like anything happened.
Like a…” I want to say nightmare, if just to see the look on his face.
But that would be overselling it far past the point of believability. “Like a dream, or something.”
“Well, your dirty little secret is safe for now,” he snaps.
I stare at the plate wrapper in my hand, trying to keep my breathing steady as a wave of annoyance washes over me. I can’t tell how much of the emotion is mine and how much is his.
Noah shoves my chair back under the table. The harsh scrape against the floor makes me jump, but I make a point of not looking at him as he moves around the table toward the door.
Then he is suddenly right there, leaning over me from behind me. His scent engulfs me—pine needles and rain—and my omega instincts flare to life despite my best efforts to suppress them.
He whispers directly into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Just so you know, thanks to this damn bond, I also know when you’re lying.”
“I’m not—“ I start to protest, but the words die in my throat as Noah straightens up and fixes me with a look that makes the bond between us thrum once, like a plucked string, before going quiet.
He stomps out of the room. I watch him go, unable to tear my gaze away from the empty space in the doorway even after he is long gone.