Page 12 of Keeping It Professional

She smiled a bit sadly. “Butyou’re making me laugh. You remind me of me when I first met your father, and he drove me crazy. He was so… smug. We were like cats and dogs, tearing strips off each other, but then, this one night, all that tension boiled over. He looked in my eyes and I looked in his, and next thing I knew?—”

“Oh, God,Mom!” I covered my ears.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop. I’m just saying, those were good times. Good kisses too, all that passion built up.”

I let out a yell, not wanting to hear it. Not wanting to picture Mom and Dad getting busy. Or me, for that matter, lip-locked with Miles, in the back of the ambulance. Pushed up on the wall.His hands in my hair, pulling it out of its bun, his five-o’clock stubble rough on my cheek. He’d kiss like he talked, rough. To the point. Push me around a bit, but in a hot way. And I’d push back, shove him down on the cot?—

“There’s no passion in Miles,” I said. “Just a stick up his ass.”

Mom didn’t say anything, just leaned back in her chair. I stretched out too as our nail techs came over. This was my Miles-free time, and I was going to enjoy it. And get some smiley decals on my toes.

CHAPTER 5

MILES

Iwrapped up my shift at ten a.m. and went straight for the gym, and the first thing I did was hit the leg press machine. I loaded it up with loud, clanging plates, and launched into my workout fueled up with spite.

I hadn’tbeen wrong today.

Clang.

Sophiewasslow. Unsure.

Clang.

She didn’t trust herself. Kept looking to me.

I got up and added two more heavy plates. She needed to figure things out for herself. But she’d never do that if I kept stepping in. We weren’t finding our rhythm and that was half on me. Right from our first call, I’d pushed her to one side. Taken over the second my patience wore thin.

Because if I didn’t, she’d flounder all day. She doesn’t have the instinct?—

I grunted and strained. Clenched my jaw tight. Sophie was too earnest. Too peppy. Too… sweet. One bad outcome and she’d shatter like glass.

I wiped down the leg press and stretched. Jogged in place. I still felt twitchy, worked up from my shift. Worked up from the week I’d had, babysitting the rookie. Maybe I was hurting her, shielding her from the job. The sooner she realized it wasn’t all heroics, the sooner it dawned on her that we couldn’t help everyone or save every life, the sooner she’d wash out. Then I’d get a real partner and she would move on, back to whatever charmed life she’d blown in from.

A rowing machine opened up, and I hopped on. I liked the rowing machine for the focus it took. I couldn’t obsess on the rowing machine, or relive my own failures, or dread what came next. All I could do was push, pull. Work those muscles. Stretch and release. Inhale, exhale.

I rowed till my abs burned, and my back, and my thighs, and even my feet and the palms of my hands. When I stood, my head swam and my sweat turned clammy, and I closed my eyes and let myself drift. I felt good, my head empty, my pulse pounding hard, every muscle in my body stretched out and loose. If I could just hold this feeling, keep it going all day?—

My phone blipped, annoying, from my gym bag. I groaned and ignored it, but it blipped again. Then it buzzed loudly, an incoming call. I crouched down and grabbed it.

“Fletcher. What’s up?”

“Hey, Miles,” said Brian. “You at the gym?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“All the banging of weights.” A siren went off on his end and I knew he was at work. In his office, I guessed, by the creak of his chair. “So, listen, I can’t make drinks tonight. I’ve got back-to-back surgeries, then the chief’s called some meeting, so… you’ll be okay, right?”

I laughed, still half-winded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You seem stressed. How’re you holding up?”

I grabbed a towel and sat down on the bench, wiping my face and chest. “All right, I guess. You know, long day. But nothing I can’t handle.”

“And how’s your cute partner?”

I groaned. “I wish you’d quit calling her that.”

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