Now that he mentioned it, he had been the one on call that first night I arrived. I’d seen him sporadically at times during those first few days I’d been up and trying to talk my way into being discharged early, but who knew if that was in the middle of some long stretch of work or if his schedule was well and truly fucked like mine. “You do a lot of overnights?”
“Depends.”
I waited for the rest of his explanation, nearly rolling my eyes when it never came. “On?”
“If people are stupid enough to get themselves injured when they should be sleeping.”
I let out a quiet huff of air. Okay, so that was definitely a dig at me.
Funny for him to be saying that when it was kind of my job to put myself in compromising situations so innocent civilians didn’t have to.
Who else would be answering those distress calls?
It wasn’t like he was getting up and volunteering his own services.
Instead of rising to the bait, I answered with, “I also work the graveyard shift.”
The tablet’s screen lit up brightly for a brief moment, forcing him to squint at it before he got it dimmed down again. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you’ll be finding your way back into my OR soon?”
“Seeing as I’m not planning on getting stabbed again, no.”
“Considering not many people plan for being stabbed in general, that doesn’t exactly inspire much confidence.”
Was that some kind of joke?
It was hard to tell with the dry tone. Then again, there wasn’t much I could tell off ofanythinghe did. He was definitely an enigma my mind couldn’t help but want to solve—to figure out and dissect in an effort to keep myself from going crazy while staying cooped up in this hospital. “Is Edgewood usually that dangerous?”
He glanced up. “Wouldn’tyouknow that answer?”
I shrugged. “Haven’t been here long enough to get a good judge of the place. I thought small towns were known for being quiet, but apparently that isn’t always the case.”
Dr. Montgomery shifted again, lifting his chin up from his hand. In a slow motion, he leaned fully back into the chair, completely abandoning all interest he’d had on the tablet moments before and focusing all of it onto me. “You’re not from here.”
“Ding, ding, ding. What gave me away?”
He ignored the question, coming back with one of his own. “How long have you been here?”
“Just a few months. Came up from the city. Let me guess, you’re a local born and raised.”
“Did the academy teach you such outstanding observation skills or were those developments made all on your own?”
Without meaning to, a small laugh bubbled up from my chest. He was kind of a bitch, but in a weirdly funny way. He had the kind of sarcasm that carried a bit of venom behind it but not enough to do more than sting for a few seconds before the irony of the situation kicked in.
For someone who seemed to keep to themselves and avoided human interaction as much as possible by hiding out in a patient’s room while they slept, he sure had plenty of retorts geared up and ready to shoot back at me the moment I opened my mouth.
“I’m Terran, if you cared to know.”
His brows pulled together. “Yes, I did gather that from your chart.”
“This is the part where youalsointroduce yourself. I know human customs might seem a little foreign to you but don’t worry, I’ve got until Monday to show you the ropes.”
“Wow, a robot joke. How original.”
“I was going for alien, but robot works, too.”
To my surprise, he rolled his eyes at me. His mask was slipped back in place right before he stood and tossed his tablet back down one the now-empty chair behind him. An arm was raised over his head, the audible pop of one of his shoulders causing him to exhale slowly before doing it again with his other side.
Even with his scrubs falling slightly loose on his frame, the muscles moving under the thin material were hard to look away from. A small sliver of his stomach flashed me when both of hisarms were raised over his head, dark inked lines like the ones on his neck and left forearm clashed together with a bit of color from another tattoo I couldn’t quite catch before it was quickly covered by his scrub top again.
