Page 5

Danny

“ D anny, I’ve got to give you another one. Bay two. Overdosed downtown. He got two doses of Narcan in the ambulance already, stable and holding his own airway.”

“Got it.” Danny nodded, typing quickly to catch up on his charting.

So much for a night off.

He’d been finishing a late dinner—if you could call stale cereal dinner—when he’d gotten a frantic text from his work asking if he could come in.

The staffing center knew he was always up to pick up extra shifts.

He was exhausted enough that he had almost said no for once, but then had reminded himself that student loans didn’t pay themselves, and he had two nights off in a row coming up if he could just get through this one.

The chaos in the ER was in direct contrast to the night before.

Just after midnight and they were already almost full, even if that wasn’t saying much considering their small size.

It was the normal variety of a not-so-big city: some dehydration from stomach bugs, a few broken bones, now apparently an overdose.

He was supposed to have gone on break a half hour ago, but these things weren’t guaranteed on busier nights.

He had just gotten his patient assessed and settled in, making sure his vitals were being measured every fifteen minutes in case the Narcan wore off before the drugs left his system, when Chloe stopped by his station.

She crossed her arms and gave him a stern look. “I’m covering your patients. Take your break—I know you’re overdue.”

Danny gave her a relieved smile, unable to even pretend to put up a fight. “I promise I’ll be quick. Just need some fast calories and caffeine.”

She shook her head at him. “Full half hour, mister. I’ve got ’em, I promise.”

He was about to protest further, but she cut him off before he could start. “You need to eat some real food, Danny Boy. Not gonna lie—you’re looking wrecked. I’ll text you if we get slammed. Scout’s honor.”

Choosing to ignore the less-than-flattering assessment of his appearance, he widened his eyes at her in mock surprise. “Chloe, were you a Girl Scout for real? Tell me there are pictures of a mini you in a Brownie uniform. I need them in my life.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but her lips quirked up. “It’s a figure of speech, dummy. Go eat.”

He gave a huff but got up from his chair, mumbling some choice words about getting a boy’s hopes up for embarrassing photos with no intention of follow-through, but she blatantly ignored him.

Ten minutes later, he was sitting in a cafeteria booth, eyes glued to his book as he shoved half of a slightly soggy turkey sandwich—cafeteria pickings were slim in the middle of the night—into his mouth.

A tall figure slid gracefully into the seat across from him. Figuring it was Gabe by the size of him, Danny didn’t bother to finish chewing before giving him a friendly, “Fuck off, I’m reading.”

“And a good evening to you too.”

He knew that voice.

He looked up to find a pair of familiar bright-blue eyes gazing back at him.

And now Danny was choking on his turkey sandwich.

Eyes watering, he covered his mouth with an arm as the coughing fit took him over. When he finally choked the bite down, he managed to get out a strained, “—not who I thought you were.”

Mr. Handsome Creep—or was it just Mr. Handsome now?—gave him an even look. “I figured.”

Danny waited for his stranger to continue, ideally to explain what he was doing interrupting Danny’s sandwich time, but that was it.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “I see we’re still saving up all our words for a rainy day.”

The man across from him gave a slight smirk but still didn’t say anything else. He was wearing a different suit from the night before, just as perfectly fitted. He looked like he should be strutting the streets of Milan or Paris rather than sitting in a dingy hospital cafeteria.

He must be an employee after all, to be here two nights in a row.

There was something different about him tonight.

Something less…harsh. He was still clearly prone to staring, but that cold, predatory look was gone.

Which was slightly unfortunate, because without the “creep” part, he was just Mr. Handsome, and Danny refused to drool over another hospital employee.

No drama in the workplace for him, thank you very much.

“Okay, I’ll go,” Danny relented. “How can I help you?”

“That is a dangerous question.”

Danny fought a blush at the man’s low tone; his voice had that sultry edge again. What was Danny just thinking about not drooling again? This man was creepy , damn it. Danny would not be charmed.

“I’ll rephrase,” Danny said, keeping any hint of flirtation out of his voice. “What are you doing here at my table?”

“Talking to you.”

“Yes, but why ?”

The stranger placed his elbows on the table and leaned slightly forward, toward Danny, and goddamn it, why did he have to smell so good?

“And here I thought I was being so obvious,” he purred.

This…this was flirting, right? Honestly, Danny was so out of practice with the act he couldn’t quite tell.

“ Obvious is a not a word I would use to describe you. You must still be pretty new here, right? What unit? You’re not wearing scrubs.

Or a coat. Are you one of those ‘cool docs’ who think the white coat is too pretentious?

Because I gotta tell you, that suit does not send out the chill vibes you think it does. ”

Danny had entered babbling territory, but Mr. Handsome just quirked his lips and continued to stare at him from across the table.

A sudden, horrifying thought hit Danny. “Are you—are you management? Did they hire someone to supervise on nights or something? Did I tell my new boss to… eff off ?”

This time, Mr. Handsome’s lips lifted high enough to be considered an actual smile, and that simple act upgraded his appeal to deadly levels.

Danny shifted in his seat, unnerved that a smile was turning him on.

“I’m not management,” the man refuted. “I have some passing business here but not for long.”

Danny supposed that was the closest to a straight answer he was going to get. For someone who’d just moments before been telling himself a workplace flirtation was out of the question, he found himself strangely disappointed that the man wasn’t going to be a permanent fixture.

He pointed at the stranger’s chest. “They should really get you a badge. Makes things a little less confusing. And I’d know what to call you. See?” Danny pointed to his own. “Danny.”

“I remember. Danny No-Last-Name.”

“And you are?”

“Roman. Roman Mourier.” He pronounced his last name with a seemingly flawless French accent.

Mr. Handsome, aka Roman, leaned a little further over the table, and Danny got another hint of his scent, that spicy, metallic mix that shouldn’t smell nearly as good as it did. What cologne did this guy use, and would he let Danny borrow some to pour on his pillow?

Roman’s eyes seemed to darken as he locked them onto Danny’s own again. “Now that formalities are out of the way, I think you should let me—”

But whatever Roman wanted Danny to let him do was interrupted by the sudden blare of Danny’s phone alarm.

His break was over. Perfect timing, since he was slightly worried he would have let this man do whatever he wanted, and that was a completely irrational reaction to a mysterious stranger, wasn’t it?

Time to go before he got himself in trouble.

“Shit,” Danny swore. “I mean, shoot! Break’s up. I gotta go. Nice meeting you and everything. I’ll see you arou— Oh.”

Roman had risen out of the booth along with Danny and had somehow made his way over to Danny’s side in the blink of an eye.

The stranger was now standing at what felt like a very close distance.

His intoxicating scent was even stronger, and Danny was feeling the incredibly inappropriate urge to rub his face against this guy’s neck and sniff him properly.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

“I am not so sure I should let you go yet.” Nothing in the man’s tone suggested he was teasing.

“Um, you have to?” Somehow it ended up coming out more like a question. Danny was feeling almost light-headed, fighting his body’s sudden inclination to sway into the man across from him.

Maybe he was more exhausted than he thought.

“I need to get back and do…nurse stuff. Nurse things. You know?” How had his brain suddenly turned to mush?

Roman was lifting a hand, and Danny had the strangest feeling that the other man was about to stroke Danny’s face, when a loud “Danny!” cut through his mental fog like a knife.

He glanced to the right to see Gabe walking toward him, somehow looking like a million bucks even though Danny knew for a fact it was his fifth night in a row. No dark under-eye circles for the Golden Boy, thank you very much.

He narrowed his eyes as his brother approached. “I thought I told you to ignore me at work.”

“Very funny, kiddo.” Gabe threw an arm over Danny’s shoulder, completely unfazed by the less-than-welcoming greeting. “Who’s your friend?”

Of course Gabe would have no qualms calling Danny “kiddo” in front of a stranger, even in a goddamn work setting . No thought to what treating him like a child might do to his professional relationships.

Danny glanced over at Roman to gauge his reaction and gave a little start of surprise.

Roman’s gaze was trained on Gabe’s arm, the one wrapped around Danny’s shoulder, and that cold look from the night before was back in his eyes.

The one that brought to mind some predator—a jungle cat or possibly, you know, a serial killer.

Danny was suddenly reminded of why he’d felt so nervous the night before.

He took an involuntary step back, but before he could make any introductions, or perhaps ask “Why are you looking at my brother like you want to knife him?,” Roman cut him off with a cold, “Just leaving, actually.”

He pivoted away and walked off without looking back at them, and was out of their sight before Danny had time to blink.