It lands right in my chest. Expanding my lungs.
My teeth lock. My pulse skitters.
My knees nearly buckle.
“Samantha mentioned your critical case almost didn’t make it?” the man comments.
The way he saysSamanthais soft, affectionate, like she’s his, not Alaric’s. Good. My PI didn’t miss anything.
“Yes.” Crazy how one word from him has my toes curling. “Sorry to cut this short. I’m gonna grab a shower and head out.”
The showers. In the locker room.
Where I planned to go.
It’s fate.
“Of course. Have a good one, Doc.”
“You too.”
Heavy footfalls approach me, probably the other man.
As soon as he walks past me, I’m back to following Alaric.
Since I’m short on time, I’m grateful when he reaches the locker rooms so quickly. I slow when he does, watching as he taps his hospital ID to the reader and steps inside.
Holding my breath, I wait until the door starts to close, then wedge my foot between it and the wall.
When I sneak in, my gaze sweeps the room. I breathe easier when I find it’s empty except for the two of us. Me pressed into the corner, half-hidden behind a wall, and him heading to his locker.
Oblivious to my existence, he stops in front of one of them, starting to work the lock. My attention stays fixed on the parts of him I can see over the lockers, my eyes drinking in the sight of him.
I listen as his lock rolls some more, thenclicks. A second later, the low creak of the locker door swinging open follows.
Then—oh.
Oh.
He’s taking off his scrubs.
I should feel bad about violating his privacy, but I can’t. Can’t turn away either. His bare shoulders, his smooth skin… I’m hypnotized. His.
Just as much as he’s mine.
Not yet, I remind myself.
Right.
Out of nowhere, he stops messing with his locker and turns his head to the left. “Anyone in here?”
Shit. I’ve gotten way too comfortable stalking him.
Even though he isn’t looking directly at me, I drop into a crouch and press myself into the corner by the doorway, using the wall to stay out of sight.
“Hello?”
There’s nothing I want more than to jump into his arms. I resist the urge, not moving a muscle. I don’t even breathe.