Page 19 of Wistful Whispers
Before she can say another word, another voice I know calls out, “Shay-mus, hi-yee!”
Good god. I don’t even have to look.
Lani.
Petite, blonde and—if memory serves—flexible, she sidles up to my other side with a look in her eye both playful and deadly.
Fucking great. How in the world do my rockstar brothers do it? Keeping up with multiple women is exhausting.
“I’ve missed our little stairwell dates. I heard you might be back in action.” Abby scoots in closer in to squeeze Lani out.
“Dates.As if.”Lani sniffs and holds her ground. “Whatcha been doing, Shay?”
This is torture. If my future weren’t at stake I’d bolt the fuck outta here. The truth is, I haven’t seen either of these ladies in over a year and I don’t care if I ever see them again.
There’s no need to make them feel bad, though. I only have myself to blame. “You know how it is. Residency. Long hours. No free time.”
“Honey, men haveneeds.” Abby tilts her head, her smile a little too knowing. “I’m down for a repeat.”
Lani scoffs. “Sounds like someone’s a little desperate.Cringe.”
For fuck’s sake.
Territorial posturing. It’s wild. Did I cause this? I’ve always been upfront about what my boundaries were. Everyone knows the drill.
“I didn’t know you two had a thing.” Abby lifts a brow.
Lani crosses her arms. “We did and you’re not part of it.”
I resist the urge to rub my temples. Things have clearly gone pear shaped. “Alright, let’s—”
“McGloughlin.”
The voice is commanding. Direct.
I turn to see Bryce approaching, his usual confident stride carrying him across the cafeteria. His expression is unreadable at first and changes when his gaze flicks between Abby and Lani—flattening into something unmistakable.
Disapproval.
Shit.
The two nurses scatter, murmuring half-hearted goodbyes before disappearing back into the crowd.
Bryce stops in front of me, arms crossed, giving me the look. The one he’s given me a dozen times before. Half-bemused, half-irritated.
“Jesus, Seamus.” He shakes his head.
I sigh, already tired. “Let’s eat.”
Bryce turns and heads into the cafeteria. I follow, grabbing a sandwich and coffee, barely paying attention to what he chooses. We settle into a corner, away from the noise.
It’s about two point five seconds before he looks me over and points a fork in my direction. “You have to cut this shit out.”
“Cut what out?” I stop mid-chew.
He gestures vaguely toward where I was standing with the nurses. “The…sideshow.”
“I wasn’t flirting.” I huff a quiet laugh.
