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When was the last time I lost myself in a thought tornado that didn’t just distract me but intruded in my day-to-day life?
A couple of days, a week maybe, which was crazy considering it had happened several times a day before the guys forced their way into my daily routine. Maybe being alone, left to my own thoughts as much as I was before Jameson and Slade, took a harder toll on my mental health than I’d realized. And now that I had companions, two men who stuck to me like glue and helped keep me distracted from those intrusive thoughts, I didn’t have the opportunity to get swept up in the tornado.
The anxiety was still there. I was a doctor and knew sex—even amazing, soul-changing sex—and companionship wouldn’t cure anxiety. But it sure as hell seemed to ease some of the more debilitating symptoms.
Or maybe science had it all wrong and several orgasms a day kept the doctor away, not apples.
I snorted and shook my head. Pretty sure I would lose my license if I submitted a formal study request to see if my theory was correct. Though I wouldn’t mind being a test subject with Jameson and Slade as my partners.
Ah, what a way to sacrifice yourself for science.
Something tapped at my shoulder, jerking me out of my thoughts. With a startled gasp, I whirled around, the tip of my ponytail snapping me in the face with the quick movement. Blinking back at me, standing so close we could smell each other’s breath, stood the slightly odd crime scene tech.
“Dr. Evans,” he said, dry lips pulling into a Joker-like grin. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Swallowing hard, I held the drink protectively to my chest and took a giant step back, putting much-needed space between us. “Oh, yeah, I came in to, you know, work.”
He just blinked, slate-gray eyes trained on me for several uncomfortable seconds without saying another word.
“I’m just going to…,” I stated slowly and hooked a thumb over my shoulder toward the swinging doors that led to the morgue. “Have a good morning.”
I stilled, my blood turned to ice when his hand latched on to my wrist, preventing me from making my hasty escape. Focusing on the patches of irritated skin along his hand and wrist, I inhaled deep, willing my heart to stop pounding. I couldn’t think with the sudden rush of adrenaline that had kicked in my fight-or-flight instinct.
“I wanted to thank you for not telling anyone.”
Oh fuck. What in the hell is he talking about?If I said “You’re welcome,” would he just move on? But my curious brain wouldn’t let me find out.
“Tell anyone… what exactly?” I whispered.
His thin lips pulled tighter into a wide grin. “Come on, Dr. Evans, you know. You noticed at the crime scene the other day. The one at that house, with all the blood.”
But I didn’t know. Damnit, I needed to alert someone, but my phone was buried somewhere in the deep dark depths of my carry-all handbag.
My gaze shifted to my office, just a few feet from where we stood. If I could get inside, I could lock the door and call for help.
Could I break the tech’s weak hold, sure, but he’d done nothing to harm me. And until that happened, I didn’t want to hurt him because I’d overreacted to his need to talk to me.
“And what exactly do you think I noticed?”Shit, what is his name? Ugh, I really need to up my people skills.
He held up his free hand and twisted it one way, then the other, giving me a clear view of the angry red and irritated patches of skin that matched the one still holding my wrist. “I knew I would get in trouble if anyone found out. The last thing I want is to be on my manager’s radar for needing special supplies.”
Special supplies?
What the…?
With a practiced move, I easily broke his weak hold on my wrist to grip his. Holding his hand a few inches from my face, I studied the irritated skin. His words and condition finally clicked, making total sense.
“The latex,” I breathed. “You’re allergic to the latex gloves.” He nodded. “And you think you’ll get in trouble for telling your manager you need a different type?”
His slim shoulders rose in a shrug. “I need this job, and I love what I do, so I don’t want to jeopardize that.”
All my fear and tightness drained, leaving me slightly light-headed. “You won’t get in trouble for needing different gloves, I promise. I’ll order new ones myself from my expense account just to ease your concerns. Are you allergic to any other material?” His stringy dark hair shifted with the slight shake of his head. “Okay, until the new ones arrive, put a barrier between your skin and the gloves. Thick lotion or Vaseline. I’ll make the order a rush and be sure the new ones are here tomorrow. Sound good?”
Totally was not expecting the man to close the space between us and wrap his arms around me. Thankfully, my quick reflexes saved my drink, a few condensation droplets slipping down my hand when I held it high in the air. Standing as stiff as one of my dead bodies, I stared wide-eyed at the white wall over his shoulder and waited for the unsolicited hug to be over.
To this guy’s credit, it wasn’t just him. Touching the living really wasn’t my favorite pastime.
Except for Slade and Jameson.