Page 40 of Dr. Roz Harrington
Sam did as she was told, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she felt herself drift again, safe in Roz’s arms. For now, that was enough.
Sam wasn’t sure how long she lay there, the steady rise and fall of Roz’s breathing grounding her in a way nothing else everhad. She didn’t need to move, didn’t need to speak, Roz had made sure of that. It was rare for Sam to let anyone shoulder even a fragment of the weight she carried, but here, in Roz’s arms, it wasn’t a burden she had to fight. For once, she could simply be.
Her mind drifted back to everything that had brought them to this moment, the tension, the frustration, the arguments that still simmered just below the surface. Yet, it was these quiet spaces, when Roz let her guard down and gave her this version of herself, tender and unwavering, that Sam found herself falling deeper into something she wasn’t ready to name.
Roz shifted slightly, her fingers tracing slow circles along Sam’s back. Sam’s eyes fluttered open, and she tilted her head just enough to look up at her. Roz’s gaze was already there, steady and sure, a faint smirk playing at the edges of her lips.
“Still awake?” Roz’s voice was low, a quiet hum against the stillness of the room.
Sam shrugged, trying to fight the warmth rising in her chest. “Maybe. You don’t exactly make it easy to relax.”
Roz raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I’d like to think I make it very easy to relax.” Her hand moved in a slow, deliberate pattern, her touch both soothing and possessive. “You just don’t like giving up control. Even now.”
Sam huffed softly, her lips curving into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible.”
Roz tilted her head, eyes gleaming as she studied Sam. “And yet, here you are.”
Sam didn’t argue because Roz was right, shewashere, in Roz’s bed, wrapped in Roz’s hold, and not an inch of her wanted to leave. She let out a quiet sigh, the weight of her emotions pressing against her ribcage. “What are we even doing, Roz?”
Roz’s expression softened just slightly, the teasing edge fading. She brushed a knuckle along Sam’s cheek, her touch reverent, thoughtful. “We’re figuring it out.”
Sam swallowed hard, her heart beating a little faster. “Are we? Because it doesn’t feel that simple.”
Roz’s lips pressed into a faint line, as though she wanted to say something but stopped herself. Instead, she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Sam’s forehead. “It doesn’t have to be simple. It just has to be this.”
Sam blinked up at her, caught off guard by the quiet certainty in Roz’s voice. This, whatever it was, wasn’t something either of them knew how to navigate, but at least in this moment, it was enough. For now.
Roz settled back, pulling Sam closer against her chest. “Close your eyes, Sam,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Sam’s lips curved into the faintest smile as she shut her eyes, letting Roz’s words sink in. There were no promises, no declarations, just Roz’s steady presence, holding her in a way no one ever had. It was dangerous, Sam knew. She wasn’t sure what they were building or how it would end. But right now, she didn’t care.
For the first time in a long time, Sam let herself rest, lulled by the warmth of Roz’s touch and the quiet truth in her voice. Whatever came next, she’d figure it out later.
10
ROZ
Roz had never been one for events like this—too much meaningless chatter, clinking glasses, and forced small talk. It was all part of the job, though, and she wore her mask well, a polished professional wrapped in an elegant black suit that matched her sharp edges. She kept a glass of champagne in her hand more for show than enjoyment, her sharp gaze occasionally scanning the room with boredom.
Until she saw her.
Sam.
It was as if the entire ballroom dimmed, and Roz’s focus honed in on one point. Sam stood near the entrance, dressed in her formal firehouse uniform, crisp navy fabric hugging her form, the gold buttons and insignia a quiet testament to her leadership. Her blonde hair was pinned back in that no-nonsense way that Roz always found frustratingly attractive. But it wasn’t just how Sam looked; it was how shefeltin a room, the kind of person who drew attention simply by existing. Commanding. Grounded. Solid.
And beautiful. Roz’s throat tightened.
Sam’s gaze swept across the room and stilled when it landed on Roz. The air thickened instantly. Roz tried to hold her composure, lifting the champagne glass to her lips with deliberate ease, but the flutter in her chest betrayed her. Sam’s blue eyes locked with hers, and for a moment, the connection was like fire and gasoline, an unspoken spark that neither of them could extinguish.
Roz forced herself to look away first, her heartbeat loud in her ears as she turned back to a donor she wasn’t listening to. She nodded absently to whatever meaningless words were being said, but her mind raced. Sam’s presence had a gravitational pull, one Roz couldn’t escape no matter how much distance she tried to put between them.
The weight of Sam’s gaze still lingered, like a touch Roz hadn’t asked for but didn’t want to lose.
Roz moved through the event with practiced grace, dodging conversations when she could and pretending to listen when she couldn’t. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of Sam’s eyes on her. It was like a low hum, a constant presence that frayed her edges.
I should leave, Roz thought, considering her exit for the third time. Before she could act, a familiar voice cut through her thoughts.
“Dr. Harrington.”
