Page 72 of Quinton's Quest
“Really?” He whipped his head around and stared at me across the back of the couch. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Is it serious? Who are they? Because you’re still bi, right?”
“Yep, still bi. Leaning toward men these days, though.”
“And his name?”
I mixed the hot chocolate with the hot water. “Dr. Leopold Rodgers.”
“Doctor?” He laughed. “Oh, Quinton, seriously? I hope he’s a dentist or something.”
“My dentist is Cameron Johns. Cute guy—not my type.”
“I didn’t think you had a type.” He tracked me as I returned to the couch.
“He’s a surgeon.”
Finn barked out a laugh. “You’re always going on about how arrogant doctors are. Surgeons in particular.”
“I’m notthatbad.” Somehow, this conversation had turned uncomfortable. I hadn’t realized how much I apparently complained.
“Well, you sort of are. I mean, I bitch about cops who are too good to do the hard work, so there’s that.”
A story for another time. I’d met at least one arrogant cop in my time working at the hospital.
“Why were you asking about a blood sample?” He stretched his arm.
“Just making sure we did our due diligence. Did you get the results?”
He squinted. “I think the doc said everything was fine.”
“Dr. Medina?”
“Yeah. She’s great.”
“Absolutely awesome. I just, you know, sometimes things get backed up at the lab. I thought I heard something about that today. Did all your crew get their lab results back?”
Finn squeezed an eye shut as if in contemplation. “Geez, Quinton, I don’t have a clue. I’m not even one-hundred percent certain mine came back. But I figure Doc wouldn’t have let me go if she had any worries. Well, I promised to call Mom a couple of times over the next twelve hours.”
You left AMA, but I’m not going to bring that up now.“And have you?”
He gazed up at the ceiling. “Have I what?”
“Called your mother.”
He blew out a breath. “And get her all worried and stressed over nothing? Look, she wanted her baby boy to work on electrical science projects—not fight fires, deal with drug overdoses, and generally make a pest of himself all over Mission City.”
“Is that a reference to your sexual exploits?”
He burst out laughing. “Oh my God, you did not just say that.”
“You’re not known for discretion.”
“I never tapped you.”
“And maybe that’s why? Plus, you prefer to be tapped.”
He snorted. “Well, there is that. We never were compatible.”
“Nope.” I longed to reach out and feather his hair. He might be laughing—as I’d hoped he would—but he wasn’t okay. “Look, if you won’t check in with your mom, will you at least check in with me? When you see the neurologist day after tomorrow, you won’t have to lie about being a good boy and checking in with someone.”
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