“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
I open my mouth to argue, then stop. Because he’s right, annoying but right.
“She looked at you like she actually cared whether you lived,” Mason points out, suddenly quieter.
He’s right about that too. When she looked at me kneeling in the street bleeding through my shirt, she didn’t look scared of me. Didn’t look overwhelmed.
She looked worried. Like me getting hurt mattered to her instinctively. And for some reason, that settles somewhere dangerous in my ribs.
Mason heads toward the car, tossing me a look over his shoulder. “You coming, Romeo, or are you planning to stand out here emotionally compromised all night?”
“I am not emotionally compromised.”
“You got shot and fell in love with a paramedic in under ten minutes.”
“That’s not what happened.”
Mason opens the driver’s side door. “Mm-hmm.”
I glance back at the building one last time before following him. Fourth floor, second window from the left. Still lit against the rain-dark street.
Chapter 3
Liv
The station smells even more like burnt coffee, antiseptic, and old gym socks than normal. Home sweet home.
I push through the bay doors just as the end-of-shift crew is dragging themselves back in from a call that left them looking like a lineup for a zombie movie. Which, considering how the overnight shift can get, tracks.
“Look who’s back,” a voice calls.
I glance over and see Alice perched on the edge of the counter in the kitchenette, jacket half-zipped, and hair in a messy bun that still somehow looks intentional even though the tiredness in her eyes tells me it isn’t. Still, she grins at me like she hasn’t just worked the kind of shift we all know too well and dread.
“Don’t start,” I mutter, tossing my jacket into my locker. “I earned my laundry day off yesterday.”
“You always say that,” she shoots back. “And yet, here you are. In the same uniform as always.”
Her eyes drift over to Jett as he walks in, grabs a donut, and takes a seat at the table nearby.
“You had a fun night the other day,” Jett smirks, speaking around a bite of donut.
“No kidding. It’s not often the emergencies come to the medics.” I lean against the counter, the handle of a drawerjamming into my backside until I shift a few inches closer to Alice to find relief.
She’s blissfully looking off into an imaginary sunset. “That detective was hot. Like really, really hot. The muscles in his arm…” She knocks my shoulder with her hand.
“Oh, believe me, I noticed,” I start but Jett starts laughing.
“Alice, why are you looking at cops?”
She rolls her eyes. “Because I’m not blind.”
Jett lets out a hard laugh, smacking the table.
“What’s so funny?” Scott asks, walking up.
“Alice is just reminding us that her eyes work.” I wave my hand dismissively.
