Shay studied Ollie’s profile, taking in his high cheekbones and intense stare as he cued up another clip of the genealogy show.I bet he’s got a killer smile. Then again, he didn’t seem the type to smile much, and Shay liked that too. Smuggler’s Beat was his happy place, a manic joy he couldn’t escape. Inexplicably, he craved Ollie’s frown.
“So….” Ollie said.
“Hmm?”
A muscle in Ollie’s cheek ticked. “You’re really not interested in this, are you?”
“We haven’t started yet.”
“That’s what you’re going with? Because I don’t need to waste my time with this. We can just film the segments on the road whenever you’re free and leave it at that. You don’t have to be involved with production.”
“Production?”
“Jesus-fucking-Christ.”
Shay blinked, caught off guard by the irritation lacing Ollie’s curse. He searched for a response, but the words wouldn’t come. His hands trembled, and a faint headache crept over his scalp.Shit.He’d forgotten to check his sugars and top up his breakfast. A night on the booze always fucked him up.
Ollie was still glaring at him. Shay forced himself to shift his gaze and glanced around for his medicine bag. It was, of course, on his bunk, an easy reach when his limbs weren’t made of jelly.
“Are you okay?”
“Wha—” Shay tried to stand. Failed. Strong hands caught him and sat him back down with a thump. “Oh fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” Suddenly, Ollie was right in front of him, crouched at his feet, his previously steely eyes now molten with concern. “Do you need me to get someone?”
Shay shook his head. “I just need my bag. I’m diabetic… I need to check my sugars.”
“Where’s the bag?”
“On my bed.”
“The tidy one with the journal?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course it is.”
Ollie rose and disappeared, returning an instant later with Shay’s magic bag. He stayed close as Shay pricked his finger, but looked away as the drop of blood oozed out.
Shay filed the reaction for later and concentrated on the less than ideal numbers coming up on the tiny device on the table. “Oops.”
“What is it?”
“Low. I need some sugar, man.”
“What kind of sugar?”
“Coke… maybe some fruit?”
Thankfully, both things were stocked in the kitchen. Ollie brought him a can of Pepsi and a banana and reclaimed his seat as Shay put himself back together. Shay mourned the loss of his close proximity, but it took a few minutes for him to notice Ollie was furtively scribbling in a notebook of his own.
“Please tell me you’re not documenting this shit?”
“Hmm?” It was Ollie’s turn to glance up distractedly. “Sorry. No, of course I’m not, but I didn’t know you were diabetic. It’s… uh… interesting to me. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I’m pretty hard to offend, mate. But I don’t see what’s so interesting about me fucking up a hangover.”
“That’s because you haven’t listened to anything I’ve said for the past hour. Maybe if you pay attention over the next few weeks, it’ll make more sense.”
