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JOSH

The hospital was right nextto Thayer’s campus, so it didn’t take me long to reach the science library, formally christened the George Hancock Library after a long-dead donor and informally known as SciLi. It was a hidden gem tucked on the third floor of the biology building. Whereas Fulton, the school’s main library, was always packed during exam time, SciLi was quiet year-round.

The walk gave me time to push lingering thoughts of Tanya’s death to the back of my mind. Being outside the hospital and surrounded by smiling, chattering students made it easier. It was like I’d stepped onto a movie set where I could pretend to be the person I wanted to be instead of the person I was.

When I arrived at SciLi, there were only a handful of students scattered throughout the space. Walls of books stretched two stories toward the double-height ceiling, interrupted only by massive stained-glass windows set at regular intervals. The glow from the green glass desk lamps mingled with the sunlight to cast a warm, hazy glow over the hushed sanctum.

The thick emerald carpet muffled my footsteps as I walked toward the back, where Jules sat by herself.

“Working hard, I see,” I said when I reached her. A tall stack of textbooks sat next to her ever-present caramel mocha, and loose sheets of notes and index cards covered every inch of the oak surface.

“Someone has to.” She raised her head, and alarm pinched my chest when I noticed her puffy, red eyes.

“Were you crying?”

What the fuck were they doing over at the law school? I was pretty sure study materials weren’t supposed to make someone cry unless they were tears of frustration, and Jules wasn’t the type to lose it over academic stress.

“No.” She tapped her highlighter against her notebook. “I have allergies.”

“That’s bullshit.”

We kept our voices low since we were in a library, but everyone was so zoned out and we were so far from the nearest person it didn’t matter much.

Jules’s tapping picked up speed. “Why do you care? I called you for sex, not a heart-to-heart.”

“I don’t care.” I dropped into the chair next to her and lowered my voice further. “But I’d rather not fuck a crying woman unless you’re crying from pleasure. Any other kind of tears is a turnoff.”

“Charming.”

“Would you rather I get turned on by others’ distress?” I slipped into our banter with shocking ease, considering my day in the ER, but when I was around Jules, everything else ceased to exist.

For better or for worse.

“I don’t have the energy to argue with you today, okay?” she snapped, her voice lacking some of its usual fire. “Either fuck me or leave.”

My brief flare of good humor evaporated. Normally, I wouldn’t hesitate to take her up on her offer of sex, but today wasn’t normal.

“Newsflash, Red, you’re not the only one who has shitty weeks, so stop acting like you’re so fucking special,” I said coldly. “This is a mutually beneficial arrangement. It doesn’t mean you can call me and expect me to come running to service your needs like a fucking gigolo.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

We glared at each other, the air between us crackling with thinly veiled frustration before Jules’s shoulders slumped and she dropped her highlighter to rub her face.

My irritation fizzled at the simple action. I blew out a long breath, unable to keep up with the day’s wild rollercoaster of emotions.

“Bad day at work?” she asked.

My laugh lacked humor. “You could say that.”

I didn’t talk about the downsides of my work unless it was with someone else in the field. Nothing brought down the mood faster than saying hey, so someone died on my watch today.

But the pressure from earlier was building in my chest again, and I needed to relieve it before it drove me crazy.

“I lost someone today.” I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling, unable to face Jules as I admitted my failure. “She was seventeen. Got hit by a drunk driver.”

It felt weird saying the words out loud. I lost someone. It sounded so generic. People lost toys and house keys; they didn’t lose lives. They had lives wrenched from them, stolen by the cruel hands of an unforgiving god.

But that didn’t roll off the tongue quite as nicely, I supposed.

A soft hand covered my own. I stiffened and kept my eyes on the ceiling, but the knot in my chest loosened a smidge.

“I’m so sorry,” Jules said softly. “I didn’t—I can’t imagine…”

“It’s fine. I’m a doctor. It happens.”

“Josh—”

“And you?” I interrupted, twisting my head to look at her. “What happened? Don’t give me that bull about allergies again, either.”

“I do have allergies.” Several beats passed before she admitted, “It’s possible I’ll have to…do something I’m not proud of. I promised myself I would never do it again, but I might not have a choice. I just…” A hard swallow shifted the delicate lines of her throat. “I don’t want to be that person.”


Tags: Ana huang Twisted Romance