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Nash blinked and looked up. “Did you need something?”
“Uh… would you mind if…” Reese patted the seat.
“Of course not.” Nash flicked a look at Craige, and he turned back around in his seat. “Is there a problem?”
If Reese said yes, he was pretty sure they’d wind up with a lot of blood on the seats. The floor. The windows. The ceiling.
Everywhere.
But if he said no, Nash would smell the lie.
“Out of curiosity.” Reese lowered his voice. “Do I smell funny to you?”
“Funny?”
“Like… I don’t know. Weird.”
Nash’s eyebrows crashed together. “You don’t smell any different than you always have.”
Reese slumped. So there was nothing different. He smelled the same. Unless he’d always smelled like sex and chocolate, that would explain why he smelled the same. And if he’d always smelled like that, then what did it mean? Did he even want to know? Was it diet? Hormones? Some chemical imbalance in his metabolic system. A buildup of ketones in his blood? That could create a sweet smell, but Reese had never read about it described as chocolate and most certainly not…
“Dr. Dante,” Nash said.
Reese looked up. “Yes?”
“You sure there isn’t a problem?”
“I think I should get my blood sugar checked.”
“Your bl—”
Seung returned from the hall. She held a small tray of wrapped pastries.
So much for blood sugar.
“It’s all I could find.” She held out a bottle of water.
Reese took it.
“You can have your pick.” She set the tray on one of three small tables dividing the space in front of the couch.
Reese selected a honey bun.
Seung carried the tray back to her seat. Craige grabbed a handful, and the crinkle of cellophane followed.
Reese opened his and took a bite.
“What’s your opinion?” Nash said.
“Iff-mmk—” Reese washed down the bite with some water. “I don’t know. It’s okay. A little heavy on the icing. I mean, I like icing—”
Nash smirked.
“That’s not what you meant, is it?” Of course not. Why would Nash want a review of a honey bun? Reese glanced at Seung and Craige. “I think they’re telling the truth, but I don’t have a nose as good as yours.” Better than it used to be. Like his hearing. Especially when it was quiet, sounds stood out in a near three-dimensional image.
Seung stared out the window, and Craige had his seat leaned back and his eyes closed.
“I won’t pretend to know everything that’s happening. But I don’t think they’re the enemy.”
