Page 55 of Night Shift

“Yes, of course, I’m fine.”

Giving me a brilliant smile, Conan leaned in. “Who do you think has him more worked up, me or you?”

“Conan, please,” I muttered, nervously swiping my hands down the front of my dress. His question had put me on the spot and made me flustered, but the truth was that I’d been comparing the two of them all night. They were so different, but they both had a powerful hold on me.

“Sorry, Samantha,” Conan said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s not your fault,” I assured him, forcing a smile. “I’m just… Hell, I don’t know.”

The night had taken a turn I never could have expected, leaving me to wonder what the fallout of those few charged moments would be.

As we started working our way back toward our friends, Conan, ever the source of light in any situation, burst into laughter, seemingly amused by the drama. “Well, I’d say that went rather well, wouldn’t you?” he joked, his arm guiding me gently toward the table.

I was anything but amused.

“Sure, if you find—”

Before I could finish, Marissa and Kristen appeared at our side, their hands entwined, faces glowing with happiness.

“Guess what?” Marissa couldn’t contain her excitement. “Kristen and I are giving it another shot!”

“That’s wonderful,” I said, genuinely pleased for them.

Conan echoed my sentiment. “Congratulations!” he exclaimed, pulling Marissa into a friendly hug. Other coworkers nearby offered their own well-wishes.

“Cheers to second chances,” Conan said, grabbing his glass from the table and raising it, prompting a chorus of agreement from the group.

For a while, Conan and I ate, drank, and mingled with our colleagues. Eventually, we found ourselves back on the dance floor with Bethany and Brad, laughing when “Electric Slide” started playing and we joined in a group dance.

The band transitioned smoothly into Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect,” and Conan, with a playful tug, drew me into his arms. Despite the lingering soreness from my injuries, the thrill of dancing, of moving in sync with Conan, made the pain and discomfort all but disappear.

I caught glimpses of Atticus through the crowd, and each time, his gaze was fixed on me with an intensity that stole my breath away. But when the song neared its end and Conan dipped me, wrapping his powerful arms around my back and pressing a tender, romantic kiss to my lips, the drama of the evening seemed suddenly unimportant.

When he lifted me back up, the spot where Atticus had been standing was conspicuously empty. A fleeting sense of disappointment washed over me, but it was quickly overshadowed by the warmth of Conan’s embrace.

As the last chords of “Perfect” faded away, Conan leaned in and whispered seductively into my ear, “I’ve booked a hotel suite for tonight. Let’s sneak away and make this night unforgettable.” The revelation sent a ripple of surprise through me, and deep inside, a knot of anxiety formed.

“Really?” I asked, trying to sound as excited as he did. “That’s…that’s sweet of you.”

“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and leading me away from the dance floor. We half-danced and half-walked down the hallway, laughing as we made our way toward the elevator.

“Are you ready for a little nightcap?” he asked with a smile as he ran his hand down my back and leaned in to kiss my neck.

“Of course,” I replied, forcing a grin.

My palms were growing clammy. When the elevator doors opened, we stepped inside, and I leaned against the back wall, my heart racing.

The truth was, I didn’t know why I was so nervous. Conan had been nothing but kind, attentive, and fun. And yet, I couldn’t shake the image of Atticus watching me with such possessiveness.

As we entered the suite, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The room was elegant and sophisticated, decorated in soothing shades of cream and gold. Conan took off his jacket, tossed it onto a nearby chair, and turned to face me, his expression hungry with desire. I stood there, suddenly unsure. My earlier confidence had vanished.

He tilted his head and squinched his eyebrows, silently inquiring about my hesitation.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, closing the distance between us in a few steps.

“Y-yes, I’m fine,” I stammered, forcing another smile. “Yeah, I just… I didn’t expect this, I guess. Sorry… I was just thinking I should text Bethany and Marissa where I am so they don’t worry.”

I quickly sent the girls a text and laid my phone on the table by the TV.

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