Frank nods once. “Anytime.”
“All right,” Colton says, “I’ll check back in a few hours. No heroics.”
“No promises.”
Colton turns his attention to me. “You good here?”
I nod. “I’ll be back shortly, Frank.”
As we step back into the hallway, the door closing softly behind us, the air between us feels … different.
Lighter.
“Thank you,” I say suddenly.
“For?”
“For not shutting him down.”
He meets my gaze. “He’s earned the right to be honest.”
I study him for a moment, then nod. “So have you,” I reply.
I take a step forward, then slow when I realize he’s done the same. We fall into stride together without comment.
“Well,” I say lightly, breaking the silence, “I guess that officially makes us Frank’s entertainment for the day.”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “He charges extra for that.”
“He absolutely does not,” I reply. “He’d do it for free.”
“That’s what worries me.”
I smile at that, glancing down the hall instead of at him. “He has a way of saying things out loud that most people only think.”
“No filter.”
“None,” I agree. Then, after a beat, I add, “It’s … impressive really.”
“Impressive?” he questions.
I shrug. “Confidence or recklessness. Hard to tell the difference sometimes.”
“Usually both,” he replies.
We reach the nurses’ station, and I slow, fingers brushing absently against my clipboard.
“He didn’t make you uncomfortable, did he?” I ask nervously.
“No,” he says quickly. Then, more measured, “He didn’t say anything that wasn’t already obvious.”
I falter. “Oh,” I say. “Obvious.”
He lifts a shoulder. “To him.”
Shaking my head, I reply. “Frank barely knows me.”
“That’s generous,” he says. “He knew you in ten minutes.”
