Fortunately, the urge to vomit passed by the time I got there, but I stared at my reflection in the tiny mirror as I splashed water on my face. The yellow light made me look paler than I’d ever been. My face was puffy, and my eyes were ringed in shadow.
Not remotely twinkish. Not remotely cute-but-helpless.
Not at all Riggs’s type. Which was good, because he wasn’t mine. We didn’t have a single thing in common.
My stomach burbled unhappily.
“You do not need him,” I told myself in a low voice, blotting my cheeks with a paper towel. “You do not need his stupid strong arms around you right now. You do not need his kisses. You do not need his reassuring lies. You deserve something real.”
I made my way out of the bathroom slowly, pausing in the doorway to take a deep, silent breath and psych myself up before I emerged into the hall…
Which was how I was in the perfect place to hear Champ say, “Proud of you, Riggsy! I admit, I was pissed when I gave you this assignment. I wanted to make you think twice and get your priorities in order. But I had no idea how tough this one was gonna be. Getting a difficult principal through kidnapping and a hostage situation, and finding HOG’s missing programmer? You redeemed yourself.”
A difficult principal? I almost gasped and gave myself away. I hadn’t been difficult! Had I?
“Nah, it wasn’t bad,” Riggs said uncomfortably. “Dr. Rogers is a good guy. And I mean, at least the place had running water and AC. Not like that time in Niamey, huh?”
Someone hooted. “Oh, God. That was the worst. You remember—”
“Shut it, Elvo,” Champ interrupted. “I’m not done. I’ve been hard on you about your inability to keep your shit contained, Riggs, and I’m sure I’ll be hard on you again in the future. But credit where credit is due, man. You managed to keep the doctor safe, and that couldn’t have been easy. You don’t always keep your temper with the principals who give you an attitude, but clearly you figured out a way this time. You put the job first, as you should. Which is why…” He paused dramatically. “I’ve decided to reinstate you to the auricle implant training.”
“No! Wait, really?” Riggs was clearly shocked. “You serious?”
“Would I lie? You proved yourself on this assignment. Whatever you did, keep doing it. Your dedication is fucking impressive.”
I couldn’t help the bubble of slightly hysterical laughter that escaped at that. Oh, God. The job. Always the damn job. If only they knew just how dedicated he’d been. He’d gone to great lengths to handle me.
The voices died as Champ’s crew realized I was there. I pasted on a polite smile as I stepped away from the lavatory doorway, and Champ nodded at me, cool and professional.
“Doing okay there, Dr. Rogers?”
“Me? Oh, fine. Never better,” I assured him airily, like I hadn’t just rushed past them moments before with a hand clamped over my mouth. “People have remarked on my ability to compartmentalize.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Riggs shift in his seat and waited for him to speak up. To defend me and say I hadn’t been a difficult principal. To put his arm around my shoulders and guide me to the back of the plane because he could see that I needed it. To at least speak directly to me like I was a human being and more than just an… an assignment.
But he didn’t. Because I wasn’t.
And a tiny piece of my heart that I hadn’t fully acknowledged I’d written Riggs’s name on withered and died right there and then.
I inclined my chin. “Thanks very much for the speedy rescue, Mr. Champion. I’m sure my grandfather will reward you handsomely for going above and beyond. Sorry for the inconvenience it’s caused.”
Champ nodded, but he frowned at the same time, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to read my mind.
I made my way back to the couches before he could.
“How’s the leg, Buck?” I asked because I was a person who cared about other people and how they were feeling, unlike certain emotionless assholes named Riggs.
Buck looked up from his contemplation of the clouds out the window. “Oh, it’s just dandy. It’s my heart that’s giving me trouble, Doc.” He thumped his chest despondently.
“Your heart?” I frowned. “Want me to check your vitals?”
“Nah,” he sighed, waving a hand. “I don’t mean my physical heart. I mean my mental heart.”
I snorted. “Your mental heart.” I knew exactly what he meant, though I’d never heard it called that. I kinda liked it. In fact, I was pretty sure I was having a mental heart attack right at that very moment. Hurt like hell.
“You know, Doc,” Buck mused, “sometimes all a man wants is a little validation.”