Page 27 of Already At Risk
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“You’re welcome.” His voice had a steady timbre. I bet he could make a killing recording those audio stories that put people to sleep. “It was a lot of work.”
I laughed into my cup, blowing air over the top of it. And then I looked up.
“I knew I wanted to be a doctor very young. It fascinated me, I think. My parents got me a doctor play set, and I’d dress up in scrubs and run around the house. I took the gameOperationway too seriously.” I chuckled at the memories of sitting on the floor and forcing my brothers to play with me. “I didn’t decide on my specialty until medical school, though. I quickly realized how much I enjoyed emergency care and how good I was at it—the quick, complex thinking, the interdisciplinary aspect of it all, the dynamic. And I decided I wanted to learn all the tools I could to save as many lives as possible.”
Cameron was listening so intently that I forced myself to take a drink of my tea and drop my gaze.
“It’s pretty amazing,” he said quietly, and I just shrugged, not good with compliments. There were so many talented people working in healthcare, and I was just one of them.
“Some days feel more amazing than others. Those are the days I work for.”
“I can understand that.”
I nodded and then decided to switch the subject. “What were you going to ask me earlier?”
His lips pressed together, a momentary consideration. But then he just said, “It can wait until later.”
I looked at my watchless wrist. “Later, I’m going to be sleeping.”
“Another day, I mean,” Cameron said, the corner of his mouth pulling up.
“Okay,” I sighed and drank more of my tea.
If I had a little more energy, I’d probably press him about it. Just because I was curious. I was curious about a lot of things when it came to Cameron Bryant, actually. It seemed like, at this point, he knew a lot about me. But there were so many things I didn’t know about him. That didn’t seem fair, right?
“What else do you usually do to wind down when you get home?” Cameron asked before I could formulate any of my own thoughts. A shame, really. Now he was going to know even more about me, and I was going to still know next to nothing about him.
But I answered him anyway.
“I give the cat her nighttime treats.”
“You have a cat?”
“Yeah.” I yawned again. “We just got her. I finally caved to Chloe. Well, sorta. She wanted a dog after Noah got Winnie, but a cat is much more our speed. She’s a little shy around new people, though, so she’s probably hiding. She’s downright terrified of Blake, for some reason. Loves his wife, Delaney, though. Maybe it’s a man thing. Her name’s Annabeth.”
I realized I was babbling, so I shut myself up by taking another sip from my tea and then staring into the brown liquid.
“Annabeth? Cute.”
There was something about hearing a man like Cameron Bryant—all business and suits and that dangerously deep voice—calling my cat’s namecute.
“Like fromPercy Jackson?” he asked, like he’d just made the connection, and I warmed all over.
“Exactly like that,” I confessed.
“Excellent choice.” Cameron’s low chuckle preceded the sound of a cupboard closing, which drew my attention. I glancedup to see that he’d found the cat treats. He gave the little tin a shake, and within a few seconds, Annabeth appeared, strutting across the kitchen floor like she owned the place.
“Well, would you look at that,” I murmured to myself and then watched in awe as she walked right up to Cameron, rubbing her soft orange fur against his ankles. He crouched down to pet her.
Flaws. Hehadto have flaws, right?
With a groan, I put my head down on the countertop.
At the moment, it felt like the most glorious pillow.
“How many treats do you get, Annabeth?” Cameron cooed, and I shut my eyes.
