Page 7 of Peep

“Give it to you?”

Fuck, the dimple is back; I’m going to have to name it at some point.

“Yep, you’re usually all grumbly and ready to bite my head off like an angry cub, but occasionally, I pull a smile out of you, and that dimple pops so prettily.”

“I’m not,” he noticeably grumbles, bypassing the compliment. “Ok, maybe I am a little short with you. You always catch me off guard. I feel like I have to mentally prepare myself before you swan through reception and upend my day.”

The thrill of knowing I send his head spinning just like he does mine makes me feel even braver. Mission Swoon Anders is full steam ahead.

“It sounds like you have a crush on me,” I tease.

“You would think that.” He rolls his eyes so hard his irises almost disappear.

The crackle of Anders’ walkie-talkie makes us both flinch.

“Andeeers, mi need yuh,” Femi’s voice booms through the device.

Shit, my ID, this man is a fucking distraction, a welcome one, but still.

He responds to Femi in his usually unimpressed tone. I slip past him, grab my badge from the side table at the entrance and lock up. Anders makes his way towards the lift. I pick up the pace, wanting to catch the lift with him. Any excuse to be near him, I’ll take. When I reach it, he’s holding the door with a coy smile. He waited—cute.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” I joke, flashing my brows.

Anders huffs in response. This time, it’s not an annoyed huff; it’s more like ‘I give up and accept your ridiculous ways’.

We climb down a few floors in what I’m now calling ‘sexual silence’. The tension is so thick you couldn’t cut it with a knife; you’d need an axe.

He’s doing his best not to look at me from the corner of his eye, but I sense him. Ialwayssense him. How he looks at me sometimes feels like sticky honey pouring over my skin. The sensation is so present you can’t not think about it.

I clip my badge onto my shirt, and he rapidly turns to face me.

“Oh, you forgot your badge?”

“Yep, I had to pop back and grab it, or I’d get an earful at the hospital for turning up without ID, although now I’ll get an earful for being late.” I humorlessly scoff.

“Ah, ok, that makes sense.”

“Hmm, you didn’t expect me to come back, did you? Were you hoping to have a little rummage through my knicker drawer?” I playfully nudge him with my shoulder, but his whole body stiffens, and his eyes shoot to the keypad like he’s praying for the floors to pass ten at a time.

“No,” he snaps, vein-popping at the side of his neck as blood pulses through it. I’d love to know what his blood pressure is right now.

He crosses his arms, releasing an agitated sigh. Well, that was a weird response to a flirty joke. Why is he so defensive?

“I’m only pissing around,” I say gently, trying to placate him.

All I hear are crickets. Ouch.

Floor three, two, one, ground.

“Yeah, that’s the problem with you, you’re always taking the piss. Let’s keep it professional from now on, alright?”

Before I can respond, he flies out of the lift, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

He’s not wrong. I do like to piss around, all smiles and banter, disguising what’s really eating at my insides. If you pretend for long enough, you can convince almost everyone you’re ok and happy. Convince them that one single event didn’t blacken your soul. If he wants to think I’m an arrogant jokester, so be it; better than him knowing what lurks beneath the surface of this fucked up facade.

As I drag my arse through the night shift, I can’t help feeling that Anders was up to something. He’s always slightly sheepish around me, but his overreaction to my teasing earlier had alarm bells ringing. I’m itching to get back to my apartment to see if everything is as it should be.

Thankfully, this morning, I managed to secure a storage unit on the outskirts of Leeds to store the trunk and leftover medical supplies. I paid with cash and wore a mask—thank you, COVID,for making it socially acceptable to hide my face while I commit heinous crimes.

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