“Bye, turds,” Shepherd mutters, still staring at me.
“Try not to die, bro,” Killian says, capping him on the shoulder.
“Helpful,” Shepherd mumbles.
They disappear down the hall, still talking but leaving us alone in the hallway. Silence stretches between us but somehow it feels different. Comfortable. Like I could reach up and kiss his lips and nobody would think anything of it.
God, do I want to kiss him right now and lose myself in his hold as he reassures me over and over again that he’s okay.
“You didn’t have to come back here,” he says.
“I know.”
“But you did.”
I shrug, suddenly very interested in a scuff mark on the floor. “Someone had to make sure you weren’t being dramatic.”
“I’m never dramatic.”
“That’s debatable.”
He steps a little closer. Not enough to crowd me but enough that I feel it. “You were worried about me,” he says.
It’s not a question.
I scoff lightly. “Nah. I don’t do worried.”
His gaze holds mine, steady and knowing. “You do now.”
My breath catches and just for a second I hate that he’s right.
I do worry.
Because I do care.
A door opens behind him and Jamal, the man I remember having stitched up my hand, pokes his head out. “Haynes. Let’s get you in here.”
Shepherd nods but doesn’t move right away. He just keeps looking at me. “You’ll be here?” he asks. “You’ll wait for me?”
The question is simple, but it makes my chest fluttery because he wants me to stay. Like it matters to him if I do. As if I would go anywhere else.
“Yeah,” I say, soft and honest. “I’ll be right here.”
Something in his expression eases just a fraction. “Okay,” he says. But before he turns to head into the exam room he leans down and presses his lips against mine. It’s a gentle kiss, soft and sweet, but there’s something in it—something more urgent—that makes my heart skip.
When he pulls back, I can see the pain he’s hiding in the tightness around his eyes. “Stop looking at me like that,” he murmurs.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m going to break.”
I roll my eyes, trying to mask the worry that’s still churning in my stomach. “I’m not.”
“You are.” He brushes his thumb across my cheek. “I promise I’m okay.”
“I’ll feel better once you’re checked out,” I tell him, gently pushing at his chest, careful to avoid where I saw him pressing earlier. “The faster you go, the faster we can leave.”
He smirks. “So, you’re coming home with me, huh? Will you be my nurse for the week?”
