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She buckled her seatbelt as they pulled away from Owens-Adair Hospital and entered the main road. It pained her to leave the C.C.U., but she was in dire need of a shower and change of clothes. With Dr. Merino out of his mysterious surgery, she felt confident stepping out for a while.
“He’s not all that bad.”
“That’s the thing about Dayton.” The car rolled to a stop at the traffic light, and Alex stared Kenna dead in the eye. “He’s charming, until he isn’t.”
“You’re like that annoying person in a horror movie who warns someone about going into a haunted house. Except you won’t say why it’s haunted.”
Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Maybe it’s not something I want to discuss.”
“And that’s fine, but stop dropping hints if you aren’t willing to open up about it. You’ve made it clear you hate him. I get it.”
Kenna buried a hand in her greasy hair. Seeds of regret burrowed into her migraine-enveloped skull but exhaustion precluded her from forming an apology.
Had Alex been ready to share whatever happened between herself and Dr. Merino, she was convinced it wasn’t the most apt time to stomach the news—not when she’d be stationed at his bedside another night.
Dayton refused the medication the nurse had offered as Kenna swept into the room. Something that might help him sleep. He eyed the pills. “What, is it your first day? I could get you fired for this.”
“Sir, I just got here. I’m just following orders.”
Hadn’t they read his file? The hospital was a lawsuit waiting to happen.
Kenna’s company was a painkiller in its own right, making the soreness in his chest subside. Damp tendrils of hair framed her makeupless face. She didn’t wear much to begin with, but the bare-faced look suited her. The vibrancy of her tresses against her ashen skin likened her to a painting, something beautiful and layered and textured, too perfect to exist alongside all that was flawed in the world.
His Lady of Shalott.
He’d die to awaken to such magnificence.
“Just press the call button if you need anything.” On her way out, the nurse disposed of the mini paper cup of pills but held steadfast to her attitude. “Man thinks he’s invincible.”
Dayton watched as Kenna set her backpack beside the chair and squatted to peer inside one of its compartments, ultimately retrieving nothing. Fists on her hips, she turned to him. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” he shrugged. The minor movement triggered a sting below his collarbone.
The truth? He was worn to a frazzle. But this time with her was valuable. Rest was not an option.
Kenna plopped on the end of the bed, her new spot. Nimble fingers threaded her wet hair into a loose, thick braid, tying it off with an elastic that had been on her wrist. Her vacant stare fixed on the window, but he could tell she wasn’t concerned with what lay outside. Returning to the present, she released a weighted sigh.
“Is something wrong?” Dayton asked.
She brought her knees to her chest, as if to protect herself from the question. He’d injected the right amount of sincerity in his tone to make her feel safe.
But it wasn’t that easy with Kenna. She tested him, made him rethink his strategies, and that was the main contributor to his ever-growing adulation of her.
That, and the glaring issue of trust may have dissuaded her from letting a stream of honesty flow.
“I am a psychiatrist, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Just because we’re on a first-name basis doesn’t mean you get to rummage around my head.” Something unfamiliar edged her tone.
A subtle note of flirtation?
“And who, dare I ask, gets that privilege? Your boyfriend?”
She stared at him with an unexpected intensity, which he found thrilling, but her response diminished some of that excitement. “If I had one, you’d know.”
A friendly animosity hung between them. Kenna was the Clarice to his Hannibal. They needed each other, even if it was for wildly opposing reasons.
“I take it your date didn’t go well?”
