A man coughed in the corner, his head bent over his phone. A woman flicked through a magazine, turning the same page twice without seeming to notice. A young lad tapped his foot against the floor, restless. Normal. All of it.
“You alright, Soph?”
I flinched.
“Yeah,” I said too quickly, glancing up at the nurse now face to face with me in the corridor. “Fine.”
She hesitated for a second, like she didn’t quite believe me, took a step and stopped again.
“Couple of us are going for a drink after our shift tonight if you fancy it?”
“Thanks. But I’ll pass. Probably get stuck here.”
“No problem. We’ll be over the road later if you change your mind.” She shrugged before walking off towards the packed waiting room.
Another shift. Another invitation declined. At some point I’d need to make some friends. I watched after her as she approached another nurse. They smiled at each other. Made some hand gestures. Laughed. Then moved on. Friends. I cut and run so frequently these days it didn’t seem to make much sense to make any. I left them behind anyway.
I stepped forward, my eyes still on the nurse who now approached a patient. And then I hit a wall. Hard. Hands wrapped around my biceps as I staggered backwards.
“Careful, miss,” an accent but I’d been too focused on the hammering of my heart and the threat of falling onto my arse to catch it till he spoke again. “Wouldn’t want you hittin’ the floor now.”
A southern drawl. Not local. Not even close. American. I could smell the leather before my gaze even snapped up at him. The thick cut over the top of the rest of his clothes. I didn’t need to see the badges and patches sewn on the front to know what he was. A metal pin of a fist with blood running from it. A president patch over his heart. The words ‘Bloody Hand’ on the patch sewnunderneath. My eyes travelled higher. He was tall, like they all were. Broad and solid and still.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, pulling back, shrugging out of his grip.
He let me go easily enough. But he didn’t step back either. Just watched me. Slow. Like he was taking his time to really look at me.
“You sure ‘bout that?” he drawled, head tipping slightly to the side. “Looked like you were somewhere else?”
Heat prickled under my skin, and on the outside, the hairs on my arms stood on end.
“I said I’m fine. Thank you,” I added, recognising the curtness in my voice.
A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, not quite friendly, and his head still tilted like a guard dog deciding whether attack was necessary.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Thought so.”
My stomach tightened. I shifted to step around him, but he moved with me. Not blocking me, just matching me.
“Do I know you?” he asked.
I froze.
“No,” I answered quickly.
His eyes flicked over my face again, slower this time. Taking more in.
“Funny,” he said, his voice low, that drawl dragging over the word like he had all the time in the world. “You look real familiar.”
My pulse kicked harder.
“I don’t think so.”
I took a half step backwards. He let me have it.
“You obviously work here?” he asked, eyes casting to the corridor behind me before settling back on me.
“Yes. Obviously.”
