“It’s fine.” I wave him off, wiping the lingering bit of blood from my now-neat line of stitches. “You can pay me back by taking Mrs. Kowalski’s vitals. She’s in room 408.”
He groans. “She’s not here again.”
“Absolutely again,” I laugh. “She has a ‘cough’ she’s worried about.”
“We need to prescribe that woman a friend so she can treat her hypochondria.”
“You know,” I say seriously, “I think she keeps coming back because she likes you.”
“You might be evil incarnate,” he huffs.
I make a fist save for my pinkie, bringing the fingernail there to the corner of my mouth and arching my brow. “Dr. Evil.”
“Nerd,” Liam chuffs. “Fine, fine. I’ll take care of it.”
My smile falters as he gathers up the used gauze to throw away on his way out, chewing at the inside of my lip as I consider the conversation we just had. I surreptitiously press my nose to my shoulder, and sure enough, there is a wave of Noah mixed up with me that washes over my senses, making me dizzy all over again.
“Hey, Li,” I call after him.
He turns, eyeing me curiously. “Yeah?”
“Is it really that noticeable? That I was with Noah?”
He frowns. “Pretty sure any shifter would be able to smell you from a mile away.”
I’m still thinking about it long after he’s left me; I was obviously aware that it would be noticeable, what we’ve been doing—I mean, that’s the whole point, after all—I just don’t think I had actually given it proper thought before now. I feel my cheeks heat as it occurs to me that everyone I work with has probably been discussing my supposed sex life with Noah Taylor, and I honestly can’t decide what is making me blush harder: the idea of people discussing it or just the actual idea of it.
This train of thought can’t be good for my health; just the brief fantasy of what Noah might sound like in my bed has me feeling too warm—and I actually reach to give both my cheeks a light slap to snap myself out of it. That’s definitely a dangerous line of thought. One to be tucked away, I think. I sigh as I get back to work, willing my thoughts to stay in relatively safe territory.
I’m still completely aware I have to ask Noah to dinner. Dinner with my gran. Dinner with my gran who will be smelling Noah all over me and most likely coming to the same conclusions as all my coworkers. Conclusions that involve me spending a considerable amount of time underneath the big, hunky alpha who is probably the hottest person I’ve ever dated—fake or no.
Fuck.
8
Noah
A week ago, dinner with Mackenzie’s grandmother had been little more than a potential headache. Just something I assumed I would have to get through.
Now the idea of it is fucking terrifying.
I’ve been trying to pick apart what happened in that supply closet for the last forty-eight hours, something that hasn’t gotten any clearer in the time leading up to me picking Mackenzie up for dinner. I am not certain of much about the incident, but of one thing I am absolutely sure.
I almost kissed Mackenzie.
It’s unreasonable, and definitely ill-advised, but for one singular moment, there had been no other thoughts in my head outside of the glaring need to feel her mouth on mine. Something about her scent affects me like a drug; not only do I crave more and more of it after each exposure, but I seem to lose all reason when I breathe her in.
I had thought that the distance we’ve had between the strange moment in my office and now would be enough time to collect myself, but being trapped like this in such a small space with her sweet aroma clouding around me brings back the same foreign urges that had struck me when I’d scented her the day before.
Is it really just because I’ve forgone suppressants? I mean, since I am altogether not as mated as we’ve led the hospital to believe, it would make sense for me to be distracted by many clashing scents in the hospital, given that there are a good number of female shifters working on my floor, not to mention the building as a whole.
So why is it only Mackenzie who seems to bother me like this?
“—are you even listening to me?”
I blink, remembering where I am, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter and flicking my eyes to the passenger seat, where Mackenzie is looking at me strangely. She’s wearing her hair down, the thick mass falling against one shoulder as she cocks her head at me. She’s wearing a long-sleeved dress that is slightly formfitting but blessedly nowhere near as much as her yoga clothes—not that it’s stopped me from wanting to look. I have definitely tried to make sure to keep my eyes on only the road since she got into the car.