Not just in the sense thathe’dhad my cock in his mouth, either.
“I’m just the receptionist,”she said, as though this was a long-running joke between them. Hell, maybe itwas. Miles seemed to have a sense of humor under all that nervousness, though Isuspected that what I was seeing right now was yet another layer of protectionfrom really letting anything touch him.
“You’re the first personpeople meet when they come here,” Miles said. “The face of one of the best andmost important arms of the company. Don’t ever forget that.”
“I won’t, Mr. Emerson.”
“When are you going to startcalling me Miles?” he asked.
Alicia’s eyes twinkledas she smirked. “Right around the time you ask me on that date,” she responded.
Miles actuallylaughed,which I hadn’tbeen sure up to this point he was physically capable of doing. They clearlyboth knew that was never happening, so my assumption that Miles’ preference formen was a secret might not have been as accurate as I thought it was.
I wasn’t even sure nowwhat had made me assume it. The anonymity of our hookup? The fact that he waswho he was?
Neither of those things hadto mean he was still in the closet. This was Sacramento. It was one of thegayest places on the planet.
“What’s with all the extrasecurity?” Miles nodded to a cluster of charcoal-clad security guards withlittle stars on their epaulets.
Alicia glanced over in thesame direction, then hesitated before meeting Miles’ eyes again. “Looks like wehad a security breach. Nothing to worry about. No damage done, as far as we cansee. Could just be a mistake, or IDs getting mixed up. I can get you a copy ofthe report when there is one?”
Miles shook his head. “No need, butthank you for being honest. Miss McAllister is in today, isn’t she?” Milesasked, and Alicia’s face softened.
“She is. Do you want me towalk you in?”
Miles shook his head. “No, thank you.That’s what I’m paying Gray to do.”
I snorted.
Miles glanced at me, thetiniest smile turning up the corner of his lips. He was ridiculously prettywhen he smiled, amber eyes lighting up like sunshine glinting off a glass ofaged single-malt. I was more a cheap bourbon drinker myself, but it didn’t hurt to classit up once in a while.
“Same room as always?” heasked, turning his attention back to Alicia.
She nodded, and I foundmyself following Miles down a broad corridor. The scent of antiseptic andbleach was just starting to catch my nose, the oppressive sensory input of ahospital creeping in on all sides. Muted, though. This place had a hopeful vibeabout it, as though people came here to get better, instead of just to be sick.
I hated hospitals, but thisone was okay.
The plants and huge windowsseemed to be a running theme, too, so despite the fact that we were windingdeeper and deeper into the building, it never felt claustrophobic. If I’d been sick, Iwould have been grateful to come to a place like this.
“I should ask,” Miles pausedin front of a door that looked like all the others, with the number 106 inshiny brass digits. “You don’t feel at all unwell, do you? No fever, no sensethat you’re starting to get a cold?”
I shook my head.
“Good,” he said, reachingout for a dispenser on the wall that dropped a dollop of what was either hand sanitizeror tequila into his palm, based on the smell.
Hand sanitizer, I figured.
I did the same, rubbing theliquid into my hands as best I could, and then stepped back while he opened thedoor.
Whatever I’d been expectingto find in there, the teenage girl sitting by the window with an IV dripplugged into her arm wasn’t it.
Not that I had any reasonnotto expect that. This was a cancer treatment center, after all.
There was a long blond wigtossed on the bed, along with a much heavier coat than the weather called for.The kid was tall, thin, and pale, with dark circles under her eyes, but she’d been smilingdown at her phone until she’d looked up to see who was coming in.
“Hey, Maddi,” Miles saidwarmly, earning himself a smile from the girl, whose eyes lit up like Christmaswhen she saw him.
I got the feeling a lot ofpeople liked Miles.
