I try—and probably fail—to hide my amusement. “You always have this much to say?”
“Not as much as my friend here. Grayson is the most talkative alpha in town. He’s said at least three full sentences today. A new record.”
I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me as I remove my stethoscope. “If you’ll give just one second of silence to listen here, I’d appreciate it. As much as I’m enjoying this, the medical assessment part is what I actually get paid to do, Mr. Trujillo.”
“Kai,” he corrects again, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Kai,” I concede.
As I gently manipulate his foot, I’m struck by how comfortable I feel in this room with both men. It’s strange—I usually maintain a strict professional distance with patients, especially alphas. But something about Kai’s easy humor and even Grayson’s silent watchfulness feels...safe. Even though there is absolutely no reason that should be the case.
I glance up at Grayson, whose intense gaze hasn’t left me since I entered the room. There’s too much about him that should be threatening—his height, his silence, thatskull mask—but I get the impression that he is just the poor foil to Kai’s antics and is both patiently amused and annoyed by him.
“Any pain here?”
“Excruciating,” Kai claims, though his face shows no discomfort. “I might need extensive rehabilitation. Perhaps you could recommend some physical activities to help me recover? Hiking? Dinner? Dancing?”
I roll my eyes, but can’t help smiling. “Your foot is perfectly fine. Feel free to dance the night away.”
“Only if that’s an offer.” His grin widens. “Are you sure, though? Maybe you should check again. Very thoroughly and higher up.”
Grayson makes another low sound, and Kai shoots him a grin. “Ghost thinks I’m being too subtle.”
My phone suddenly buzzes in my pocket, vibrating insistently against my thigh. I ignore it, continuing my examination, but it immediately starts buzzing again. And again. And again.
I sigh, recognizing the pattern. “Sorry, just one second.”
Normally, I would never pull out my phone during a patient encounter, but Kai doesn’t seem like the type to be offended by a slight deviation from professional protocol.
My mother’s face lights up the lock screen. Again. This is the fifth call today. Frustration washes over me as I silence my phone and set it on the counter.
“Parental issues?” Kai asks as he catches sight of the screen, his grin softening slightly. “Those are pretty common around here.”
“She really likes to check in,” I admit, mildly surprised that I feel compelled to tell him the truth. “You think she’d realize that her anxiety about me doing well at my job gets in the way of me actually doing it.”
“Moms, right?” Kai’s smile turns a shade wistful. “Mine’s been gone fifteen years now. Car accident. Dad, too.”
The casual way he drops this information catches me off guard. His eyes still hold their humor, but I see something else there now—a solemn depth that he hides behind all the over the top antic.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly.
He shrugs. “It was a long time ago. My uncle took me in for a while, but I was mostly on my own after I turned eighteen. Got a nice inheritance though, which funds my illustrious career as a professional destroyer of businesses.”
I continue wrapping his ankle with an elastic bandage, more for show than necessity. “I’m sure your parents would be happy to know that you’re trying.”
Something passes between us—a moment of understanding that cuts through his carefully maintained facade of carelessness.
“Well, Mr. Trujillo,” I say, securing the bandage, “you have a very mild sprain at worst. Ice, elevation, and try to avoid dropping any cans of corn on yourself.”
“And what about my prescription?” he asks innocently.
“Rest and ibuprofen if needed.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of you writing up that I need dinner and a movie. Accompanied by a pretty doctor. For medicinal purposes, of course.”
I shake my head, amused despite myself. “I don’t date patients.”
“I could transfer to Dr. Klinkhart’s care. Problem solved.”
