Eventually, Tamsin shifted and caught sight of me.
Her smile widened.
“There you are,” she said, like she’d been expecting me all along.
Bishop glanced over, nodded once in greeting, and I grinned in return. I joined them at the rail, the three of us standing shoulder to shoulder as the boat cut through dark water.
“I was checking on you,” I said lightly. “Professional habit.”
She arched a brow. “My ass is still sore, thank you very much.”
“Good,” I chuckled, and she rolled her eyes.
I reached for her hand without thinking about it, fingers wrapping gently around her wrist. Her pulse beat steadybeneath my thumb. I let my touch linger, not wanting to let go right away.
“You look radiant,” I said quietly.
Her cheeks warmed faintly. “That’s a dangerous word to use on a girl like me.”
“I mean it in the least dangerous way possible,” I replied. “Your temperature’s normal. Heart rate’s good. You’re not showing any signs of your heat anymore.”
She exhaled, her shoulders relaxing a little “Well, that’s good. It would kind of be bad timing for more of that.”
We stood there a moment longer, the three of us watching the water peel away behind the boat.
“How are you holding up?” I asked her, quieter now.
She thought about it for a moment and then answered. “I’m tired,” she admitted.
“I have a little something that may help with that,” I grinned and she looked toward me, her eyes brimming with curiosity.
I reached into the pocket of my coat and drew out a bottle. I held it up slightly in offering.
“Found this,” I said. “Hidden behind the antiseptics in the med bay. Apparently, the Watch doctors were the work hard, play hard type.”
Her eyes lit with amusement. “Is that bourbon?”
“Judging by the scent and the fact that I already might have tested it once or twice, yes,” I answered.
Bishop gave a low huff.
With a smirk, I passed it to Tamsin.
She took it, hesitated just a second, then drank, a bit less cautiously than I expected. When she handed it back, there was a pleased glint in her eye.
“That is dangerous,” she mused, smirking.
“I specialize in controlled risks,” I replied.
Bishop accepted the bottle next, then passed it back to me. Footsteps sounded behind us, light and familiar.
Nox appeared out of the shadows like he always did, hands in his pockets, eyes already assessing the scene. He took in the bottle, our loose circle, and raised his eyebrows.
“Well,” he said, amused. “Looks like it’s a party.”
I held the bourbon up. “Want to join us?”
Nox grinned. “I knew I liked you.”
