He falls into step beside me. "That's it? 'Morning'? After you vanish all weekend, ignore six texts, and show up looking like..." His eyes narrow, studying me with the same scrutiny he uses on complicated lab results. "Like someone who's been thoroughly debauched."
"I was busy." I jab the elevator button with more force than necessary.
"Busy," he repeats, drawing out the word. "Would this busyness happen to involve a certain fiery fellow with a penchant for challenging you?"
The elevator doors slide open and it’s mercifully empty. I step inside, Arjun right on my heels like the persistent parasite he is. I stab the button for the fourth floor, then press the door close button repeatedly, as if that ever actually works.
"I had a lot of research to catch up on," I say, pulling out my phone and pretending to check nonexistent messages.
A snort sounds from beside me. "Research. Right? Research doesn't put that particular gleam in your eye or that slight discoloration on your neck that suspiciously resembles a—"
My hand flies to my collar, tugging it higher, and Arjun's eyes widen with delight.
"Holy shit, there actually is a mark? I was fishing, but you just confirmed everything." His grin spreads wider than seems anatomically possible. "So, how was your, ah, research session?"
The elevator lurches upward, my stomach not quite following. "We're not discussing this."
"Oh, we absolutely are." Arjun leans against the wall, looking far too comfortable. "After Friday night at Pulse? After you disappeared all weekend? You're giving me details, or I'm telling the entire nursing staff you have a bizarre medical condition that requires hourly rectal temperature checks."
I glare at him, but the threat isn't entirely empty. Arjun, for all his brilliance and loyalty, has the ethical boundaries of a toddler with a sugar high when it comes to hospital gossip.
"Nothing happened," I mutter, which is technically true if by nothing you mean we didn't actually have sex despite spending forty-eight consecutive hours in various states of arousal.
"Bullshit." Arjun's voice drops lower, suddenly serious. "Sebastian, I've known you for what feels like forever. I've seen you through the Debra disaster, through that fellowship rejection you pretended didn't bother you. And I have never, not once, seen you look like this."
I stare at the elevator numbers climbing. Two... three...
"Like what?" I can't help but ask.
"Like you finally remembered you're human." The sincerity in his voice makes me uncomfortable. "So either you had the best sex of your life, or..."
"Or?"
"Or you're actually feeling something beyond clinical detachment and control-freak tendencies." Arjun takes a sip of his coffee, eyes never leaving my face. "Which would be considerably more terrifying for you than just getting laid."
The elevator dings as we reach the fourth floor, saving me from having to respond. The doors slide open, and I step out, hoping the conversation will die a natural death. No such luck. Arjun trails me down the hallway toward the diagnostics department.
"Did she let you do that thing you mentioned once when you were drunk after the gala? You know, the one with the mirror and the vibrating—"
"Fucking shit, Arjun," I hiss, glancing around to make sure no one overheard. The hallway is mercifully empty, but hospital walls have ears. "This is a professional environment."
"So that's a yes." He nods sagely. "Good for her. She strikes me as the adventurous type. All that energy has to go somewhere productive."
I halt so abruptly that Arjun nearly crashes into me. "We're not discussing Mia's energy or where it goes."
"And your tongue was probably in her—"
"Enough." My voice drops to the tone that makes residents scatter like startled mice. It has absolutely no effect on Arjun.
"Fine, fine. But you know you'll tell me eventually." He adjusts his glasses, his expression turning serious again. "Just... be careful, Sebastian. Not just with her career, but with..." He gestures vaguely at my chest.
"My heart?" I scoff. "What are we, sixteen?"
"And for fuck's sake, use protection," he goes on as if I hadn’t spoken at all. "The world only needs one Sebastian Walker." Then his expression softens a fraction. "But yeah, that too. The heart thing. You tend to go all in or not at all."
My jaw tightens, shoulders hunching slightly under the weight of words that hit closer to home than I'd like. The last time I went all in, I got my heart thoroughly stomped on.
"I've got a patient to see," I finally say, forcing a reluctant smile.
