We keep walking. Slowly. Neither of us in a hurry.
When we round the corner from the clinic, our cabins sit dark and quiet, as does the rest of the academy grounds.
The students were picked up on Friday evening, and the new group doesn’t arrive until midmorning tomorrow. Most of the staff traveled home for the weekend, and those who remain are already asleep.
Jovie stops near the steps leading to hers. “Thanks for walking me.”
“Anytime.”
Neither of us makes a move to leave.
“You tired?”
She thinks about it. “Yeah.” Then she shrugs. “Tired but not sleepy.”
I nod. “I know that feeling.”
Silence settles between us.
Comfortable.
Easy.
Then I open my damn mouth. “Anything I can do to help?” The second the words leave my mouth, I regret them.
What the hell kind of question is that?
Jovie’s eyes widen slightly, and she bites her bottom lip.
Fuck me.
I shove my hands into my pockets to keep myself from reaching up to tug that lip free.
“There is something,” she finally says.
“What’s that?”
Her mouth curls into a sheepish smile. “Queso andcrime.”
I blink. “What?”
She laughs. “Queso and crime.”
“I’m not following, Doc.”
“It’s what me and my girlfriends do back at school—eat queso and watch true crime documentaries. Our favorite is serial killers.”
I stare at her.
She’s serious.
“You’re inviting me to eat cheese dip and watch creepy TV shows?”
“Yep.”
I bark out a laugh. “You’re fucking kidding, right?”
“Not in the least.”
