Big time.
When I finally wrapped up—almost sixteen hours after arriving to work—I felt exhausted to the point where I could barely stand. But everyone was stable, and my relief had been on shift for hours.
I changed into my street clothes in the locker room and made my way to the massive concrete garage where I’d parked my car. It was nearly seven in the morning.
I stifled a yawn as I stepped out of the elevator.
A pair of female nurses passed me, both holding steaming cups of coffee. The older one nodded as she went by, and I returned it, even though I didn’t recognize her.
When I looked up, I saw Nicolas leaning against my car, his arms crossed over his chest. Waiting for me.
Perhaps it should have been alarming. If it had been anyone else, it might have been. But I couldn’t help the deep feeling of relief that spread through me.
“It’s not safe for you to get behind a wheel right now,” Nicolas said as I approached, eyeing me with disapproval. I must have looked as exhausted as I felt. He said it like he expected me to argue. “I’m driving you home, Doctor De La Cruz.”
* * *
“My life isn’t that exciting,” I protested ten minutes later, growing exasperated with him. He had been peppering me with questions about my day, one after another. “Patients come in, and I stabilize them. Rinse, repeat.”
“Nonsense, Dr. De La Cruz,” Nicolas said, accelerating and merging left into the fast lane. The August sun was already overhead, making everything too bright. I had already flipped down my visor but wished I had a pair of sunglasses. Nicolas shot me an irritated look. “You work in the emergency room of a hospital in Los Angeles. You’re probably filled to the brim with interesting stories. From what you’ve told me, there are two people who now owe their lives to you. They would have perished last night, if not for your intervention.”
His lips twitched, as though that were somehow funny.
“Why does that amuse you?” I demanded, stifling a yawn against the back of my hand.
“Who said it was?”
“You’re smiling.”
“Well, I’m sitting next to a bona fide hero,” he said smoothly. “And your modesty, while tasteful, is quite out of fashion. It’s amusing to watch you try to convince me you’re not exceptional.”
I grimaced. “Nicolas—”
“Cole,” he corrected, keeping his eyes on the road.
I sighed and shot him a glare. “You showed up at the bar, and then my home, and now my work—twice…”
“Yes.”
“And you bought the house next to me—”
“Also true.”
“—Look, what I’m saying is that you can’t keep showing up in my life without warning.”
“Sure, I can.” His eyebrows drew together, and he somehow managed to give me side-eye while changing lanes abruptly, without getting us both killed. “In fact, I plan to make a habit of it. Someone has to make sure you don’t cause a car accident attempting to drive yourself home after a shift like the one you just worked. It’s a matter of public safety at this point.”
I drew in a deep breath and then let it out again, trying to calm myself.
What was I doing, attempting to antagonize him? He had no heartbeat. He could move astonishingly fast. He didn’t need to breathe.
He wasn’t human.
Worse: I didn’t feel even a trace of fear around him. I kept waiting to—for the lizard part of my brain to wake up and tell me I was sitting next to something that shouldn’t, couldn’t possibly exist.
But it never did.
Oddly enough, with him beside me, I felt safe. Despite the fact that he was weaving through LA traffic at least twenty miles over the speed limit—and the fact that he had no pulse.
