by Ava Conway
Before the shock of what just happened wore off, he slipped past the reception area and into a nearby stairwell.
“It’s only a short way,” he said as he started down the stairs.
I stared at him as he climbed down onto the landing below. There he paused and turned. “You coming?”
I glanced back at the door to the stairwell. “What did you just give her?”
He shrugged. “Cookies.”
I stared at him for a moment before I understood his meaning. “Cookies are sold by the Girl Scouts.” I crossed my arms.
He grinned. “That’s okay, I was kicked out after the first meeting anyway.” He turned and started up the stairs. “Come on.”
“Not until you tell me what you gave her.”
He paused and sighed, clearly exasperated with my stalling. “Oxycodone, mostly. It’s her favorite. The receptionist at three prefers the Xanax.”
My mind struggled to comprehend what he was telling me. “And Pam?”
“Pam’s a hard-ass. She already has access to all the medications, so she takes a different currency.”
“What?”
“Booze.”
I stared at him in shock. “How the hell do you get liquor in a place like this?”
“Med students are just across the quad.” He tapped his temple. “Everyone has a price, my dear.”
“Jesus.”
“No, my name’s Flynn. But I’ll take the compliment.” Flynn flashed me a seductive smile. “There’s a lot you still need to learn about this place, Mia. Not the least of which is that everyone here is corrupt.”
“I’m not corrupt.”
“You just gave pills to the receptionist to sneak out with a patient. That sounds pretty corrupt to me.”
I shook my head and took a step back. “I need to tell Dr. Polanski.”
Flynn raced up the stairs and pinned me against the wall before I could blink. “And what are you going to tell her?” He tilted his head and studied my face. “Hmm?”
“That the receptionist is taking medication as a bribe.”
“And she’ll deny it.”
I met his gaze. “I’ll say that you gave it to her.”
“I’ll deny it. There’s no proof.”
“There were others in the reception area.”
He pressed in closer, until his nose was inches from mine. “And all of them saw you take a patient off the floor without authorization.”
He was right, of course. I was as much at fault as he. It didn’t matter that I didn’t do anything. I knew what was going on and did nothing to stop it. If I told Dr. Polanski what had just happened, I could get in a lot of trouble.
“I could lose my internship,” I whispered.
“You won’t. Trust me.”
Heaven help me, I wanted to trust him. Flynn’s rule-breaking awakened something deep inside me, something I thought I had lost the night of Lucy’s accident. For two years, I had been focused on my career. My days had been consumed with labs and classwork, my nights with studying. While I liked what I did and recognized its worth, it was also draining. I never took a break, never did anything for fun. There was nothing about my course work that got my blood pumping, or gave me that rush of excitement.
I stood in the stairwell and searched his face. The air heated around us, and as his features softened, I experienced that warm, rush of excitement. I had forgotten how wonderful it had felt.
I focused on his lips as I became hyperaware of how close we stood. He was so much bigger than I, and so dangerous. There was something about Flynn that both excited and frightened me. I parted my lips to speak, but no sound came out. His warm, minty breath puffed against my face as silence descended around us.
“What do you want from me, Flynn?” I finally asked.
He held me against the wall for a long moment, pinning me with his strong arms and hungry stare. Then he loosened his grip and eased away.
“Come on.” He took my hand and started down the stairs once again, leaving me no choice but to follow. We made it to the ground floor, then went down one more level.
“We’re going into the basement?”
“It’s an underground passage between buildings, mostly used by the cleaners and the laundry service.” He glanced at me and tightened his grip on my hand. “I needed to wear the uniform in case we ran into someone down here on their way to the washing machines.”
He took me down one hallway, then another. Finally we entered another stairwell and began to climb. Around and around we went, first one floor, then two. By the time we made it to the third floor, I was starting to get winded. By the fourth floor, I had wanted to give up. The fifth floor ended at a single door. Flynn didn’t hesitate as he opened it and dragged me out into the warm, spring air.
“Almost there.”
I glanced around the roof of the building and tried to get my bearings. The rooftop was empty, and Flynn moved around with such familiarity. He took me over to the far side of the building, where the branches of a large oak tree hung over the edge of the building.
“You’ve been here before,” I said as he tugged me over to the railing.
“I come here sometimes when I need to think,” he said as he let go of my hand and pulled down a large branch. “I used to go to the roof of our own building with Jayden, but then he started bringing Lucy up there, and I didn’t want to disturb them.”
“Jayden and Lucy used to go to the roof?”
“Yeah, they went there a lot before they moved on.” He curled his feet up and hung from the branch, as if testing its weight.
Somehow I found it hard to believe that Lucy would break the rules by going up to the roof like that. In college she was such a good girl. Then again, she had changed a lot since her accident. We both had.
“Yeah, it feels wrong going up there now,” Flynn said. “So I use the roof of the teaching hospital to climb up in this large oak. The view is better up here than from the roof of our building anyway.” He let go of the branch and leaned in close to my ear. “Sometimes I get ice cream from the cafeteria downstairs before coming up.”
Ice cream. Treetops. It all seemed so . . . normal.
“You coming?” Flynn returned to the branch and pulled it down.
“Coming?”
He wiggled the branch at me. “Up into the tree.”
“Are you kidding?” I took a step back. “It’s too dangerous. Besides, I’m wearing heels.”
“You think too much. Take those heels off and come up here.” He winked and wiggled the branch again. “Unless you’re too chicken.”
I peered over the edge of the roof to the ground below. “What if we get caught?”
“We’re not going to get caught.” He frowned. “No one is going to look up. Even if they do, the leaves will keep us hidden.”
“Are you sure?”
He held out his hand. “When are you going to stop worrying and just live in the moment?” When I didn’t respond, he let out an exasperated sigh. “Trust me.”
Slowly, I slipped off my heels and placed my fingers in his. Before I could prepare myself, he hauled me up onto the branch and climbed up on behind me.
“Go forward.”
“Where?”
“There, to that branch.” He reached over my shoulder and pointed to a spot not far away. As I turned my head to where he indicated, I became acutely aware of just how close we were on this branch.
“Do you think it can support both of us?” I asked as I started climbing.
“We’ll soon find out, won’t we?”
I turned and flashed him a frown, which made him laugh. “It will be fine. Trust me.”
“You keep saying that,” I said as I pulled myself up to the next branch. “But you haven’t given me any reason to trust you.”
Flynn chuckled. “I haven’t given you reason to not trust me, either.”
As I pulled myself up onto another branch, I had to admit that was true. We climbed for a few more minutes,
and with each step I became more and more aware of just high we were off the ground.
“How high are we going?” I asked.
“Not far.”
My hand shook as I reached for another branch. “I don’t see why we have to go up so high, anyway.”
“It’s easy to distance yourself from everyone else up here. I find that it gives you perspective.”
“Perspective on what?”
Instead of answering, he settled himself on a branch and patted the spot next to him. “Come here.”
“No, it’s okay. Maybe I should go back. Dr. Polanski will be wondering where I am . . .” I started to head down, but whimpered when I saw how far up we were from the ground.
Flynn’s chuckle rose up from behind. “You’re scared.”
“No.” I turned around and inched toward him. “It’s just a long way down.”
He laughed and held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll protect you.”
There was something strangely comforting about his words. I took his hand and he pulled me up onto the branch. Before I realized what was happening, I was sitting next to him, and his strong arm was wrapped around my shoulders.
I leaned into his strength and tried not to think about how high we were off the ground. “What am I supposed to be seeing?”
“Watch them, Mia. They have all of this beauty around them, and yet none of them seems to care.”
“Beauty?”
“Sure.” He leaned closer and whispered in my ear. “Don’t tell me you don’t see it.”
“I . . .” I wished I could see what he was talking about, but I couldn’t.
“Look at the plant and wildlife all around you. It’s amazing. Look.” He reached across my chest and pointed to a spot in a nearby dogwood. “See the bird in there?”
I shifted my gaze from the landscaped flowerbeds and bushes, to the blooming tree. “I see it.”
“Isn’t it beautiful?” He hugged me tighter and I could almost feel the excitement and wonder pour off him and into me. “It’s a shame that no one stops to appreciate it.”
“It’s stuff they see every day,” I observed.
“It doesn’t make it any less beautiful.” His voice turned low and seductive as he slowly lowered his arm and rested it on my hip. “I find that quite often beauty isn’t fully realized until it’s gone.” The skin on my neck tingled as his breath rushed over it. “Those people down there are all in their own little worlds with their cell phones and tablets. All of them are thinking of their next meeting, or what they’re going to make for dinner. Everyone is living in the future.”
I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Is that so bad—living for the future?”
He tore his gaze away from the quad and looked at me. “It is if you forget about the present.” He dropped his focus to my lips and I became fully aware of how close we sat. If he leaned forward a fraction of an inch, we’d be kissing. Desire tightened the muscles in my lower abdomen as I nibbled my lower lip.
“The present is what’s real, Mia,” he said. “The future isn’t.”
“You could make the future a reality with planning.”
“Perhaps, but there are too many variables beyond our control. It’s better to live in the here and now.”
“I don’t agree. You need to have goals. Something to strive for.”
He jerked his gaze up to meet mine. “Why?”
“So you can be happy.”
He leaned back and considered me for a moment before responding. “And what happens when you achieve goals? Are you happy, or do you just set more goals for yourself?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. I had always dreamed of becoming a psychologist, but would I be completely satisfied if I achieved my dream? Something deep inside told me no, I wouldn’t be happy. There would always be some other hurdle to jump, another skill to master. Even if I had become as popular and renowned as Dr. Polanski, I’d always be worried about the young psychiatrists entering the workforce, wanting to disprove my theories and take away my spotlight.
“That’s what I thought.” Flynn waved his hands at the ground below, indicating the small courtyard filled with chatting families, birds, and other signs of life. “Those articles and notes you have on me are just words.” He shook his head. “A list of past failures and future goals. They mean nothing in the present.”
“The past is important. It shapes who we are.”
“The past is so important to some that they never leave it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I shifted on the branch so I faced him.
He considered me for a moment before responding. “They’re just words, Mia. Our actions in the present are what define us, not our past.”
“But they’re your words. You spoke them.”
“No, they belong to that reporter who wrote the article, or Dr. Polanski.” He lowered his arms and pressed his lips together for a moment in thought. “Words can’t adequately capture the human experience. They can’t describe the peace you get when sitting in a blooming flower garden, or the joy of being out in fresh air.”
“Of course they can,” I said.
“Words aren’t real. They’re made up by the person holding the pen. Often that person is dealing with so much baggage that they can’t see what’s right in front of them.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Dr. Polanski wouldn’t lie about something important like a patient’s health. Nothing in those files is made up.”
“No?” He waved his arms at the courtyard below as he spoke. “Find me ten different people, and I’ll give you ten different descriptions of this courtyard. You’ll also get ten ideas for how the courtyard should be improved. Ten assessments. Ten ideas for how to make it better. In the end, nothing changes.”
Silence descended around us as I stared at the courtyard and digested his words. “A lot of doctors have examined your files in the past, haven’t they?” I finally asked.
Flynn let out a long breath and watched Newton Heights staff members gathered around a lamppost and smoking. “Every sentence, every word is filtered through the person’s experiences.”
“But that doesn’t make it less true.”
“A bunch of words scribbled in a case file aren’t real, Mia.” He took my hand and placed it over his heart. “I’m real. You’re real.” He indicated the courtyard. “Reality is all around us, but people are too self-absorbed to appreciate it.” He lowered his arm and shook his head. “Dr. Polanski sets goals for me because she wants me to achieve them. I was never asked if I wanted these things for myself.”
I glanced at the people in the courtyard, then returned my attention to him. “I pay attention to what’s going on around me.”
He tilted his head to the side and studied my face for a moment before answering. “Do you?”
I thought about all of the spreadsheets and life plans I had on my computer at home. “I want to.”
He searched my face, although I wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for. “You really want to live in the moment,” he said.
I lifted my chin. “Of course.”
“Okay, let’s see if you’re telling the truth.” He leaned over and brushed his lips against my own.
Shock spread through my system at his boldness. He was a patient, and I was an employee. This was inappropriate behavior.
Inappropriate, but wonderful.
Part of me knew that I was crossing a line, but I didn’t care. It had been a long time since I had been with a man, and Flynn’s lips felt wonderful against mine.
When I didn’t immediately pull away, Flynn turned his body, gripped my arms, and deepened the kiss. I closed my eyes as his warm, firm lips touched mine. My first thought was that he kissed so much better than Justin ever had. My second thought was that if this man had sex half as good as he kissed, I was in serious trouble.
I moaned and grabbed his shirt, trying to steady myself against the rising tide of desire rushing through my v
eins.
He leaned back and waited for me to open my eyes. “That was real, Mia.”
I stared at him, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone speak. He leaned forward again, only inches, and pressed his lips against mine once more. Before I realized what I was doing, I slipped my arms up around his neck and pulled him closer.
He responded by tilting his head and deepening the kiss. I made a small, feminine sound as he threaded his arms around my waist and pulled me close. He slid his tongue into my mouth and over mine. I clung tighter to him, realizing that it had been a long time since I had been kissed. I had forgotten how good it felt, or the wonderful things it did to my body.
Closing my eyes, I let go and gave myself over to the moment. I focused on the warmth of his body and his clean, masculine scent. I slid my fingers under the collar of his shirt, enjoying the feel of skin on skin. A sense of urgency rose inside me, and I leaned closer, brushing my nipples against his chest.
He responded by digging his fingers into my flesh, as if he could pull me inside him. I slipped my hand up and pulled off that lousy bandanna. It dropped to the branch beneath us, revealing a thick crop of auburn hair. I ran my fingers through the locks, delighting in how rough and masculine they felt. Rough, like him.
Flynn was so wrong for me. He didn’t fit into my goals or life plan. He had no use for degrees, no understanding of status or rules. He made me want things I knew I could never have. Family. Children. Love.
He was going to break me, I could feel it, but in that moment, I was too wrapped up in him to care.
He slid one large hand up my shirt, and I whimpered as his rough fingers moved over my skin. Nothing about the kiss was gentlemanly or kind, and yet I loved every second of it. I ran my fingers over his broad shoulders, memorizing every dip and rise of muscle through his shirt. He groaned and inched away just far enough to slide his hand around the swell of my breast. I gasped at the contact, then shivered as a bolt of pleasure raced through my system.
Sensing my enjoyment, he kneaded and caressed my chest, teasing me through my thin, cotton bra.
“God, Mia.” He ripped away from my lips and kissed my jaw and neck, creating a trail of heat across my skin. “You taste better than I ever thought possible.”
