Page 130 of Bleed with Me

“She’s having dinner with her friend, okay?” I snapped. “Satisfied?”

Melody blinked.

“That’s it?” She raised a doubtful brow. “Don’t lie to me. I’m your best friend!”

I dragged a hand down my face, already regretting opening my mouth.

“There was a situation with my brothers,” I sighed heavily. “She learned something that hurt her, and instead of talking to me, she called her best friend.” I paused, noticing Melody’s expression changing quickly. “And tonight, she’s having dinner with him while I’m trapped in the elevator with you.”

Melody’s smile widened.

“Ah.”

“Ah,” I repeated, annoyed to the bones. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re jealous,” she replied casually.

“I’m not jealous,” I almost yelled. “He’s gay.”

“Aaah.”

I clenched my teeth, using the opportunity to press the emergency button.

“Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

The elevator resumed its descent, bringing us to the ground floor.

“I’m not forgetting anything.” She shook her head resolutely. “You’re not jealous. You’re hurt.”

“I’m not hurt.”

“Yes, you are,” she pushed, grabbing my arm and halting me in the middle of the hall. “She clearly is important to you, and you’re hurt because someone else occupies the place you don’t deserve yet.” She slammed my shoulder. “You can’t be a lover and best friend after a few weeks.”

“I’m the husband,” I mumbled inaudibly, a deep exhale slipping from my mouth.

“Want to grab a drink?” Melody suggested, stopping in front of the locker room door. “I have a free evening.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but before any sound left me, the emergency lights went on. Two residents rushed out of the call room, glancing expectantly at Melody and me, but my pager stayed quiet.

“You two!” The chief of surgery, Dr. Watson, who had the night shift, yelled, pointing in my direction. The residents instantly ran to him, but he walked past them as if they were invisible. “Dorian, for fuck’s sake!”

“What?” I glared at him, but followed as he waved at Melody to join us, too.

“Two incoming traumas,” he said, referring to them while yelling orders at nurses and other personnel. “Two bikers hit a fully loaded truck at full speed. Both critical, that’s all I know. I’m taking the first one. Dorian,” he pointed at me, “you take the second. Let’s go!”

“Shit!” Melody cursed, throwing a T-shirt my way. “Back to scrubs, boss. This will be messy.”

The familiar rush hit me instantly. Moments ago, I was ready to strangle Lucas Colapino with my bare hands. Now, I couldn’t remember the color of his eyes.

Two people were dying. Everything else could wait.

Within minutes, Trauma Bay Two was ready. Nurses moved around me, preparing blood, medication, and equipment while I pulled on gloves and mentally ran through every possible scenario.

“ETA?” I asked, checking the monitor.

“Less than a minute,” Melody replied, appearing beside me.

The ambulance doors burst open with the last syllable she said.