Designation:BETA
At least, that’s something.
My innate reaction to throw Dr. Chang over my shoulder just to hear that squeak of surprise again obviously has more to do with the fact that I haven’t gotten laid in months, instead of anything about her personally.
Even if I pictured what she might look like without that baggy sweater and scrub pants drowning the shape of her body.
“Doesn’t matter,” I mutter to myself, standing abruptly. “She’s a colleague, not a puzzle to solve.”
A colleague I’m stuck with, whether my tenuous hold on self-control can handle it or not.
Ipull into the curved driveway of a house that’s far too large for a single occupant, let alone a temporary one. Three stories of glass and timber perched on the mountainside, modern luxury disguised as rustic charm.
Not my style at all, but beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to free housing.
I grab my bag and a stack of medical journals from the passenger seat, exhaustion weighing on my shoulders. The door unlocks with a soft click, and I step into the cavernous entryway. The scent hits me immediately—fresh snow and cinnamon, with undertones of coffee and hard liquor. Almost as familiar as my own name.
“Honey, I’m home,” I call out sarcastically.
The sound of rapid gunfire—digital, not real—echoes from the living room. I follow it to find Kai sprawled across an oversized leather couch, controller in hand, eyes fixed on a massive television where soldiers duck and weave through a war-torn landscape.
“About time,” Kai says without looking away from the screen. “There’s pizza in the kitchen if you haven’t eaten.”
I drop my bag on a chair. “Have you been sitting there all day?”
Kai’s thumbs continue their rapid movement across the controller. On screen, his character performs an impossible somersault before headshotting an enemy. “Is there somewhere else I should be?”
“I don’t know. Work? Most healthy adults with functioning frontal lobes go there during daylight hours.”
“Sounds like a terrible way to spend your time.” He finally pauses the game and looks up at me, expression oozing false cheer. “I’m pretty committed to being a man of leisure these days.”
I shake my head. “What happened to your latest business venture? The sports equipment thing?”
Kai leans back, stretching his arms above his head. “Turns out my supplier was less than forthcoming about the quality of his merchandise. Got stuck with three hundred defective snowboards.”
“Jesus, Kai.”
“The upside is I now have enough material to build a treehouse out of fiberglass.” He gestures toward the screen. “Meanwhile, Call of Duty provides an excellent avenue for drowning my sorrows in virtual bloodshed.”
Receiving a sizable inheritance after his parents passed away put Kai in a position where he doesn’t need to worry about money coming in. But that doesn’t mean sitting around all day is good for him.
His tone is light, almost flippant, but I catch the tension in his shoulders. I’ve known him long enough to recognize when he’s covering up something deeper. The cavalier attitude is just armor—as much a mask as the cloth covering his face.
We might only be four years apart in age, but I’ve always felt protective over the kid that I kept from getting his ass kicked after he cheated in a game of pickup basketball when we were inelementary school. I’d been gently prodding and/or pulling his ass out of the fire ever since.
Or off the couch, in this case.
“You might feel better about the day if you did something productive.”
“Thanks, dad,” he responds sarcastically.
“You know I’m serious, right?”
“And I hope you know you’re a guest here.” Kai lobs a handful of popcorn at me. “If I wanted a surrogate parent, then I’d let my housekeeper come on full time.”
I’d been away from the town long enough that I believed his claims of general happiness when Kai sent me the occasional updates on his life. It wasn’t until my recent return that I realized the true nature of the situation.
All the money in the world is no replacement for a lack of purpose.
