Page 200 of Altius
We looked at one another in surprise.
A soft laugh came from behind us, accompanied by a fresh cloud of orchid temptation.
Eyes fixed on the window, I watched Morgan’s reflection as she got to her feet and headed toward the door.
Not her ass. I was most definitely not checking out her perfect ass.
“Can I trust you three to play nice while I take a shower?”
“Maybe,” Cal grumbled.
Owen straightened his glasses. “No promises.”
“No, baby—wait.” Turning to look at her, I stumbled, disrupting my pace and almost twisting an ankle, forcing me to grip the handlebars for support. “You’re leaving me alone with these two?”
She glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’re starting our hand and elbow rotation this morning. Need to get there early.”
“And you’re not going anywhere until I get four more milliliters.” Cal jabbed the vial at my armpit.
Trying not to look amused, Morgan slipped through the door, gently closing it behind her.
Owen increased the speed one final time—and I ran like hell.
If the big-brained bullies wanted sweat, I’d give them sweat.
Anything for Morgan.
***
My squad dominated their home meet against Wakeland State on Friday, moving us to second place in the conference.
“How do you want me to apologize for embarrassing your fellow weasels?” I teased Morgan as we stepped out of the elevator.
“Fisher,” she corrected me flatly for the tenth time today, striding down the hall ahead of me. “It’s Finley the Fisher.”
The door to 602 swung open, and Cal’s head popped out. “Oh, good. You’re back. Can you come talk some sense into Owen? He’s pissed his team didn’t find anything unusual aboutNika’s sensor, and now he’s ignoring your feedback about accessories for the vibration therapy units.”
“Sure,” Morgan said, pressing her thumb to the lock on our front door. “Fill me in while I change?”
Cal ambled across the hall, following us into the foyer, where he helped Morgan out of her coat. “It’s the surrogate object concept. He can’t understand why anyone would need a vibrating pillow—”
“Ooh, that sounds fun.” Rory bounded out of the stockroom, carrying a box of fuzzy socks. “Can I have one?”
The three of us stopped short.
In the twelve hours we’d been gone, the number of packing boxes had quadrupled, covering every square inch of the living room floor. The furniture had been pushed to the far wall, beside the piano, which was covered in a tarp for protection.
“Leave them alone, Rory,” Kelsey called from the depths of the cardboard maze, checking the contents of an open box against the master inventory list on her clipboard.
“But Cal’s talking about cool vibrating things.”
“And it’s confidential,” Morgan said, heading toward the doors to her suite—but not fast enough.
A pair of athletic young men walked out of the stockroom. Each one carried a heavy packing box. Their faces lit up when they saw her.
“Doc!”
Then they spotted Cal and froze. They looked between him and Morgan a few times before glancing in my direction.
