Page 32 of Scout

“Deal,” I grunt.

He winks and walks out of the break room, completely resetting my universe without a second thought. And of course, that’s when the intercom crackles to life.

“Emergency incoming. All hands on deck. Mass casualty event. Tour bus overturned on I-88. Multiple criticals en route. ETA five minutes.”

I shove my phone in my pocket, grab my stethoscope, and stand.

Back to work.

But for the first time in a long time, I feel like something real might be waiting for me on the other side of it.

Scout

I should’ve said no. I really should’ve.

But the moment Kendrix’s message came through—“Xavier and I want to book you for a weekend trip…”—everything flipped. My whole weekend. My head. Probably my common sense. And I didn’t even hesitate.

Because four grand?

Four. Thousand. Dollars.

That’s my credit card payment, health insurance, the birthday party I want to throw for Juniper, and a little extra cushion in the bank—all in one text.

Still, now that I’m actually packing for it, I’m not sure if I’m excited or panicking.

It’s not a standard booking. There’s no itinerary. No pickup location given, no clear destination.

I don’t even know where we’re going. They didn’t say. I didn’t ask.

Which, looking back, is maybe insane.

I fold a couple pairs of jeans, a mix of T-shirts that make me look casual but flirty, and a button-up or two in case they decide we’re going somewhere fancy. I pause at the edge of my bed before throwing in my swim trunks and a light jacket, just in case. Could be a cabin. Could be the beach. Could be the actual gates of Hell—who knows with those two.

I zip the suitcase closed and sit on it.

There’s a weird little ache in my chest. I don’t know if it’s nerves or something worse.

Because here’s the thing: this isn’t just any weekend booking. It’sthem.

It’s Kendrix and Xavier.

Two men I’ve kissed. Touched. Wanted more from than I probably should’ve. And now I’m supposed to spend a whole weekend alone with them like it’s just another gig?

Stupid.

And yet… I’m going.

Of course I am.

I glance at my phone. It’s late, but not too late. I pull it off the charger and call Juniper.

She answers on the third ring, breathless. “Scout?”

“Hey, Junie Boo.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good. Just… I wanted to let you know I’m gonna be gone this weekend. Working.”