Page 13 of Night Shift

“Come on, I’ll give you a lift home. No sense in standing out here and turning into an icicle.” I gestured toward my car—a silent command more than an offer.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.” She hesitated, wrapping her arms around herself in a futile attempt to keep warm.

“Of course, Sammich. Let’s get out of the cold.” The nickname had slipped out unintentionally, a familiarity I hadn’t planned. Thankfully, she didn’t react but turned to grab a couple of things from the car. After she closed the door and locked it, I led the way to my car, feeling her reluctance in the slight lag of her footsteps behind me.

As we walked, an odd sensation crept along my spine—the strangeness of caring, of being drawn into someone else’s orbit when I normally kept others at bay. Sam, with her fiery hair and defiant spirit, was unsettling in ways I couldn’t quite articulate.

“Thank you, Dr. Thorin. Really,” she said when we reached my car.

“Think nothing of it. And call me Atticus when we’re not on duty. I insist.”

“Atticus then,” she echoed softly. Hearing my first name roll off her lips immediately sent an electric current straight to my groin.

The chill of the morning seeped into the Mercedes’s plush interior despite the car’s best efforts to shield us from the elements. I glanced at Sam as she slid into the passenger seat and buckled her belt with an air of discomfort that clung to her like a second skin.

“Nice car,” she said, a tentative smile gracing her lips as her gaze swept over the dashboard’s sleek design.

“Thank you.” I started the engine, and the S-Class hummed to life beneath us. It was a machine accustomed to precision and power, much like me—or so I liked to believe.

She told me her address, and I entered it into the nav. As we pulled away from the hospital, the silence between us was charged, a live wire I was all too eager to grasp. “You know, Samantha, I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation in the break room earlier,” I ventured, keeping my tone casual, belying the intensity of my curiosity. “Break-room conversations can be…enlightening, don’t you think?” I cast a sidelong glance at her.

Her body stiffened, her eyes widening as she froze. A flush crept up her neck, betraying her sudden discomfort.

“Can they?” Her reply was evasive. “Oh, that was just… Bethany, you know, she likes to tease.”

“Does she now?” My fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “And do you always provide such…intimate fodder for her amusement?”

“Intimate isn’t the word I’d use,” she said, followed by a “hmph” of defiance. “Anyway, it’s not like I have anything worth sharing.”

“Contrary to what you might think, I find the topic quite interesting,” I said pointedly, raising a brow and giving her a chuckle. “Especially your apparent lack of—shall we say—satisfactory experiences.”

Her breath hitched, and she turned to stare out the window. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dr. Thorin. My experiences have been plenty satisfactory.”

“Atticus,” I corrected firmly, allowing my gaze to linger on the delicate profile of her face. “We’re not at work now, are we?”

“Fine. Atticus,” she conceded with a frosty edge. “But that doesn’t mean…”

“Samantha,” I said in a low voice, her name rolling off my tongue like a promise. “You’ve never been properly worshiped, have you? Never felt the true liberation of letting go?”

“Stop it.” The words were a demand cloaked in embarrassment. “Just…stop.”

“Apologies,” I said, but my regret was hollow. I was intrigued by this fiery-mouthed woman wrapped in freckles and flame. She stirred something within me, a hunger for redemption—mine and perhaps even hers.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting to meet mine before skittering away. “None of that’s any of your business, Dr. Thorin.”

“Atticus,” I said, correcting her again. “And perhaps not, but it intrigues me nonetheless. Besides, you’re the one openly talking about it in the break room.” The thought of being the one to unravel her, to guide her to unexplored heights of pleasure, sent a thrill of anticipation through me. This was more than mere attraction; it was a challenge, a puzzle begging to be solved.

“Atticus!” she hissed, saying the name like it was stuck in her throat.

Silence stretched between us once more.

When we pulled into her apartment complex, I was struck by the bleakness of the neighborhood. Her apartment building and the surrounding structures were in a sad state of disrepair. A flicker of concern ignited within me. Sam deserved better than this—a decent place to call home. Wait…why did I care where she lived? Yet, as she thanked me and stepped out of the car, a protective instinct roared to life, unbidden and fierce.

“Be careful!” I called after her, watching as she navigated the cracked pavement toward the entrance.

“Always am,” she tossed back over her shoulder.

I continued to watch her as she walked away. Suddenly, a movement in the shadows caught my eye.

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