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Featured content on myspace, You're almost ready we loaded your account with your facebook details. Playboy hostage negotiator Daniel Chase has never, not once, been refused by a woman, so when a debate over hospital snack foods with a delectable kindergarten teacher ends in flat-out rejection, he makes it his mission to seduce her. Despite her father’s warnings and Daniel’s troubled past, Daniel and Story can’t resist their intense attraction to one another.
Clinking ice cubes, silverware scraping against china, and soft laughter all faded into a tornado of sound, numbing Story Brooks to her surroundings. Searching for something to focus on, her eyes dropped to his empty plate, finding it a little odd that he’d managed to keep his appetite while cutting her loose. The white noise of the dining room combined with the over-the-top nautical decor transported Story to the ocean and the time she almost drowned. Ignoring her mother’s caution and the signs warning of a dangerous undertow, twelve-year-old Story swam out much too far, only to be pulled under by a massive wave. At some point between graduating from college three years earlier and now, she’d lost her pluck. While trying to fit into his world of sophisticated dinner parties and foreign films, had she let little parts of herself chip away in the process? Looking down at the untouched piece of fish—Fisher knew she didn’t like seafood, the bastard—Story shook her head. And honestly, denying her a look at the dessert menu was the straw that finally broke the chocoholic’s back. She nodded primly when the waitress’s mouth dropped open, her eyes flashing wide at Fisher.
Deciding then and there that Fisher wasn’t worth another moment of her time, Story ignored him. Placing the to-go box and a bottle of chilled champagne on the table, the waitress ignored Fisher, addressing only Story. Story aimed the bottle away from her body and twisted the cork, eliciting a loud popping noise and drawing the attention of the surrounding patrons. Holding the bottle by the neck, Story weaved her way through the now-silent restaurant, to-go bag tucked under the opposite arm. Finally outside, her painfully uncomfortable heels clicked along the sidewalk until she reached the town car Fisher had hired to drive them to and from the restaurant. Leaning back against the leather seat as the town car pulled onto the highway, Story took another deep pull of the cold champagne, then held the bottle against her forehead as she swallowed.
She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone with the intention of calling her mother. Story thanked the hospital administrator and disconnected the call just as the town car pulled up in front of her apartment building. As Daniel Chase sat in the hospital waiting room, he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that his larger-than-life, cigar-smoking, no-bullshit-taking mentor currently lay in a hospital bed, attached to a host of beeping machines and wires. He glanced around at the functionally gray, devoid-of-character walls, knowing Jack was hating every minute of being confined to this place.
Daniel wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge exactly where an early retirement from Jack would leave him. She looked momentarily thrown that he’d called her by name, then looked down at her name tag and giggled.
Daniel slipped the nurse’s phone number into his pocket and headed in the direction of Jack’s room.
Staring through the glass of the vending machine, an exquisitely beautiful blonde stood looking entirely out of place in her mundane surroundings.
In sandals and a tank top, she was dressed like she’d come straight from the beach, clearly not anticipating the harsh air-conditioning in the hospital. Barely conscious of his feet moving, Daniel started toward her, his sole intention to learn the color of her eyes.
Talking to women was like second nature to him, yet he found himself stranded in silence, second-guessing everything that popped into his head. Her voice slid like silk across his skin and it took him a minute to recapture his train of thought.
His blatant come-on gave her pause, but she played along by turning back to consider her options. As she turned to punch in her selection for the cereal bar, Daniel couldn’t stop his surprised laughter from echoing down the hallway. As she bent forward to retrieve her purchase from the machine, Daniel let his gaze drop to her sweet, heart-shaped ass. As she straightened, peeling the cereal bar from its foil wrapper, she turned to face Daniel. Frankie peeked out the window and spotted the Harley parked in front and couldn’t decide if she was disappointed or intrigued. It didn’t hurt that he was the only guy under sixty who’d walked through that door in a long time. Francesca Antonia Ritacco was the lanky, frizzy-haired, braces-wearing geek who always smelled like spaghetti sauce. She cracked open a few eggs, whipped them to the right consistency, threw in some spices and tossed them into the pan with the simmering mushrooms and onion, and topped it off with some Parmesan cheese. When he grasped her arm and looked at her with his sultry brown eyes, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
From what he could gather after a superficial observation, it appeared to be the local hangout. Not knowing where his next meal was coming from, or when, while growing up had been the great motivator behind his success, as well as that of his twin brother’s. With a healthy bank account, a New York loft, and all the finer things in life, Rafe had set his sights on accumulating as much money as he could. And the smoking-hot waitress by the nickname of Titi, with legs that seemed to go on forever, wasn’t a bad way to start his observation. He forced himself not to focus on the fact that Titi filled out her red T-shirt with crossroads cafe emblazoned across her chest quite nicely. Thinking about X-rated activities with the person he needed to persuade would only help his cause. If she were really lucky they’d start a loud discussion—since Bette was hard of hearing and insisted she didn’t need a hearing aid—about Fifty Shades of Grey again. Frankie sucked in the corner of her lip and all sorts of X-rated fantasies whispered through his brain. He thought he might have oversold his naivete for a second or two when she scrunched her nose like a foul odor had headed her way.
While washing pots and pans wasn’t a gotta-happen moment for him, solving the mystery of how to induce her to sell was on the top of his list.
Normally, he would have ducked out of the way but instead took her assault full blast before arming himself with an arm laden with suds.
Every detail of what her breast might look like underneath that T-shirt ran through his brain. Then Adam Abramowitz, her super-cute, super-smart physics tutor-who never seems to notice even her sexiest tops-tells her his visa is about to expire and he’s going to have to return to Israel. Previously released under the title Limits June 2013, and has been enhanced with new material.
I imagine the smug look on my father’s face when I show up for dinner, still jet-lagged, my tail firmly between my legs.
I wanted to sit at the head of the table while my father scowled into his soup and I felt a surge of cocky pride I wouldn’t quite be able to keep off my face. I wanted to do this on my own, here, in the country I chose to be in, without accepting my father’s help…which would also mean accepting his never ending lectures about how I should have listened to him before I wasted my time. He’s also the most brilliant slacker I’ve ever met, and his intense optimism boggles my mind daily. Tuesdays I tutor her, because she can’t afford another shitty grade, and the last tutor she paid an arm and a leg to help her was a moron.
When I’m done with my little tirade, there’s a stretch of silence so deep it leaves me embarrassed. Aside from the times when I slip up and forget that it’s never going to be more than platonic. How can you like someone so much and at the same time want to scream in frustration when you talk to her? I throw my arms around her tiny waist, but she bends one ankle at a funny angle, and the box crashes to the floor.
She lifts that long left leg and rolls her ankle back and forth, making her ridiculous, glittery shoe catch the light and sparkle. I mean to give her some sensible advice, to make sure she understands why her actions need to be rethought. I would never want to see her hurt, but a little wipeout might remind her that there’s way more to life than fancy shoes, and get her to focus on making the most of her education. I’ve never had to think about what I would do if I were staring down the prospect of licking icing off Genevieve’s fingers. Those mile-long legs, the tits pressed high in that corset of a top and jiggling with every step, her long, graceful neck, the dip of belly button that shows whenever she stretches over to grab a pencil from my side of the table or get a notebook out of her bag.
Making me squirm is one of her favorite pastimes, and it’s ridiculously easy for her to do. I’m staring at the tip of her finger coated in sugary goodness, and something in me fractures. I’m so damn sick of feeling like everything’s falling apart, like everything I worked for is dissolving in front of my eyes. And, dammit, she always manages to catch every one of them because she has those legs that any guy would want wrapped around his waist, and those eyes that are the clearest, hottest gray I’ve ever seen.
Right now she’s in front of me, smiling ear to ear, her finger still held out, dragging this whole torment out longer.
There’s enough tension against my hand that I know she would have run like mad if I hadn’t held her.
I make sure not to watch her mouth as she eats and instead focus on the problem, worked out perfectly.
She bats lashes that, for no logical reason, make my mouth water, and then turns the fork over, scooping up another small bite. Her attempt to flirt is so ridiculous, it pops the bubble of tension around us, and I can’t help laughing at her.
I’m not well equipped for tears in general, and especially not when they’re pouring down Genevieve’s cheeks.
She holds her body stiff for a few seconds, but then she leans into my chest, burying her head in my shirt and mumbling something I can’t make out. That tiny smile gets bigger and, when she looks down at her notebook, it stretches even wider—so wide it moves her ears back a little.
I scoop up another bite of smashed cupcake and enjoy that smile, the one I helped bring to her face.
Genevieve flips her pencil and chews on the little pink eraser, and I remember her tiny, sugarcoated finger in my mouth.

There are some things—like biting my nails when shit gets really bad—that I can’t logically explain, but I do them anyway. An alarm on the counter goes off, letting me know I have to take some trays out of the freezer. Entangled TEEN, our young adult imprint, utilizes both digital-first and traditional publishing models to deliver the swoonworthy young adult romances readers crave to online and brick-and-mortar bookstores near you. As if that isn’t bad enough, her semi-estranged father, an infamous NYPD hostage negotiator, has suffered a heart attack. But when the reason for her fiance’s abrupt wedding cancellation comes to light, can Story and Daniel’s already forbidden relationship survive? She suspected Fisher brought her here specifically, one of San Diego’s finest seafood restaurants, to dump her in style, because he suspected she wouldn’t make a scene in such a lavish setting. It served to block out Fisher’s decidedly unwelcome words as he spoke to her from across the candlelit table, using sweeping hand gestures to make his point. In addition to hating scenes, Fisher adored lobster, probably another reason for the elegant venue. Looks like she’d missed out on some important details during her little trip to outer headspace. As her arms and legs pinwheeled in every direction, breath whooshing from her lungs, she could still remember her brain registering the thought, maybe it’s better to just die now than have to deal with my mother saying “I told you so.” But somehow, she’d finally managed to make it to the surface, sucking in air and blinking saltwater from her eyes. Perhaps it made her childish, but Story figured her wasted months of planning a wedding that would no longer take place had at least earned her some damn tiramisu. Between his distant attitude the last few months and now his halfhearted apology, she’d had enough of feeling undeserving. The driver hopped out and opened the door for her, thankfully without acknowledging the bottle she carried. She’d have a bitch of a hangover tomorrow, but at least she didn’t have to teach a room full of kindergartners in the morning.
She slid her clammy fingers around the door handle and addressed the driver through the glass partition. He’d never seen Jack looking anything less than robust, but in mere minutes, hospital visiting hours would begin and all that would change. They’d learned a lot about each other over the last five years, after Jack had plucked Daniel, a newly minted detective, out of a negotiation course provided by the department.
Although if an outsider happened to overhear a typical conversation between them, he might assume they were enemies.
Obviously Helen wouldn’t offer much in the way of conversation, but he could work around that.
He’d just rounded a corner, his dress shoes squeaking on the polished floor, when he saw her. Blue, he’d guess, based on the long, straw-colored hair hanging to the middle of her back, curling slightly at the ends. One step forward was all it would take to press himself against her, let her feel the potent effect she was having on him. He watched her choke down the bite with what appeared to be considerable effort, eyes tearing slightly. Daniel followed slowly, but froze completely when he heard Jack’s weakened voice emanating from inside.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. Chiseled cheeks covered with stubble, a black T-shirt tucked into worn jeans hung low on his hips, a weathered leather jacket tossed over his shoulder: he looked like he’d ridden something, or someone, hard over the last few days.
The town of Wilcox needed a serious gentrification if it hoped to fight the takeover from those slimeballs at Probst.
In fact, rather than call her Frankie like her parents did, the boys in high school called her Titi to remind her of what she didn’t have. Then she let the custard start to gel before inserting the cast-iron pan into the oven to brown the top.
Being a server since she was old enough to carry a plate, she’d learned to be unobtrusive, and slid the food on the table before turning to make her escape. Being this skittish wasn’t her normal reaction, but today had been different from the minute he’d walked in the door.
She could feel it, see it, smell it as it wafted around him like the lure of fresh bread coming out of the oven—eating one slice turned into six, and before she knew it she’d be three pounds heavier, but wouldn’t regret one minute of the indulgence. Would someone please enlighten her, or hit her over the head with something, or perhaps superglue her lips? According to his intel, the average resident was close to retirement age, which worked well for the job he had to do for Probst. He got paid for getting the job done, and gobbling up this town and its picturesque setting along the Mississippi was part of the plan. It added to the war chest he’d accumulated over the ten years since he’d graduated from college.
They waltzed into town in their Brooks Brothers suits and ties, flashing money and hoping to seal the deal. In order to discover the Achilles’ heel that would force the town to break his way, he had to gather his own intel. And since Frankie was the owner, Rafe couldn’t help but wonder how much influence Titi might have over the guy. He dismissed the errant thought and concentrated on the task at hand—culling for information.
The more intel he got, the better and quicker he could get the hell out of this Podunk town and head back to his comfort zone in Manhattan. Sweet-talking beautiful women, until they pretty much did anything he wanted them to, was another one of his specialties.
If she wanted to stave off the takeover of Wilcox, she needed to be strategic, and she needed to be at the top of her game. No doubt the ladies would zone in on Rafe—really, could he have a cooler name—and try to push the two of them together. Sounds like you’re kind of in charge of the crusade.” Which made sense if all his intel was right. The food might not be as good when they took over, but then again, these folks wouldn’t be around to miss it. She’d already turned him down for a date, so he had to figure out another way to ingratiate himself into her life for the next twenty-four hours.
Some wanted to be reeled in slowly, like catching a large fish, letting out the line, pulling back on the rod, and repeating until nothing was left to do but call them done.
A squirt of detergent, a click of a stereo, and she was cutting up veggies on the butcher-block island while music drifted in the air. The size and shape of her areola—more than likely dark, rimmed with a slightly reddish edge, and about the size of a half dollar, with a tight pink point in the center perfect for sucking.
I imagine how he’ll scoff at my failed attempts to be independent, to pursue my own dream while I “turn my back on my homeland.” The last thing I want is to listen to him crow when I’m forced to accept employment through one of his connections. Luckily, she’s got a killer sense of humor on top of being drop-dead gorgeous, so I’ve never put my foot too far down my throat. She’s holding a huge box, and I can see that she’s about to trip over the FedEx package Cody and I have ignored all day. I have completely accepted that she’s just a friend who happens to be very, very attractive, and who I have zero chance with—but there’s no way I can deny what amazing legs she has. The scientist in me knows that her bones and muscles are perfectly capable of supporting her body weight. Back to work it is,” she quips with a little salute then looks back at the box she dropped. You brought me a pot of shakshuka before synagogue that Saturday morning, when I was hung over after binge drinking my breakup pain away. And Genevieve, this gorgeous, frustrating girl who has so much potential, just sells herself short over and over again and attracts the wrong kind of guys, the ones who are in it for the cheap thrill of the chase.
If I want things to stay platonic, touching Gen is a definite “no.” Her finger feels delicate in my mouth, and I lick at it gently.
I pull her closer and suck a little harder, just for a second, just to watch her pant a tiny bit. I shake my head, get off the stool, and rummage in the drawers, finding two paper plates and two plastic forks. I guess Genevieve would be shocked to know that my childhood bedroom is now an exercise room for my father. Text me so we can meet up, okay?” She grabs her backpack and stuffs her study sheets into it. Even though I’m fairly sure there’s no answer to my fucked up situation, I entertain a stupid shred of hope. Whether they’re dark and angsty or fun and sassy, contemporary, fantastical, or futuristic, TEEN has exactly what teen (and teen at heart!) readers want.
Not wanting to examine her lack of emotion over the broken engagement, she hops on a plane to reconnect with her father before it’s too late. She should be listening, but she’d pretty much tuned out after hearing the words, I’m calling off the wedding. The old Story, the one who’d regarded her near-drowning as an adventure, would not approve of the girl who listened politely while someone made her feel two inches tall. But if you happen to slip out without me noticing, I guess I can’t do anything about it, can I?” After casting one final glare at Fisher, she pivoted on a heel and stalked away. Story dug around in her purse and produced two twenty-dollar bills before rattling off her apartment address. With a frown, she stared down at the unfamiliar area code and slid her finger across the screen to answer. He could easily flash the nurse his badge and get in early, just get it over with, but he was thankful for the extra time to gather his thoughts. When Daniel excelled in the class, surpassing his fellow officers by a wide margin, he’d been taken under Jack’s wing to learn the ropes. Friends didn’t come easy to either of them, and it was with a grudging respect that they operated together so well.
As Daniel passed the front desk, he winked at the pretty dark-haired nurse who’d been smiling at him since he arrived. A natural, golden tan starting at her feet and spreading upward until it disappeared under her jean skirt suggested she either lived outside the city or had just returned from vacation. The sight of her delicate hands traveling over her mouthwatering skin kicked his heart rate up another notch. Disgusted with himself, Daniel mobilized, catching sight of her just as she stopped outside one of the hospital rooms.
Convincing small restaurant owner Frankie Ritacco to sell his business for property development should have been a piece of easy, profitable cake.
Despite her pitiful prospects for marriage and children, the Crossroads Cafe is part of Frankie’s family’s legacy. But it looked as if she didn’t have much choice when he ambled inside and gave her a panty-melting smile.
Which reminded her, she had a stack full of protest signs waiting to be assembled in the back. Luckily in the intervening ten-plus years, she’d lost the braces, learned how to tame her thick, curly hair, filled out—more in some areas than others.

She threw some cut-up potatoes into a pan and allowed them to cook to crispiness before she made her way back to his booth, steaming plate in hand. The terra-cotta floor and the fresco painting on the walls, paired with the red plaid curtains on the windows, brought the feeling of Italy to small-town Iowa. Now that he could control his own destiny, he intended it to be exactly how he wanted it to be.
He needed a cushion so large that it ensured that no matter what happened, he wouldn’t have to worry about money ever again.
The only way to do that was to observe them in their natural environment like a hunter stalking prey. This was the gun-toting monster who’d fended off and terrorized anyone Probst sent her way? There was something about a man’s slightly calloused fingers on sensitive parts of the body that was a huge turn-on. Maybe he was some kind of hypnotist, because try as she might, she didn’t want to stop looking at him.
It’s a little more private than many of the other places around.” Finally she’d reestablished her talking rhythm. Getting drawn into a fling with a knock-your-socks-off handsome stranger wasn’t going to help in that regard.
Being regulars, they’d already started to help themselves, but getting distracted wasn’t something that normally happened to her.
Ever since her mother’s death, they felt honor-bound to find a suitable husband for her, and every stranger who waltzed into town was subjected to the third degree. Maybe he’d download it when he checked into a hotel room tonight and see what all the fuss was about.
It was a shame he was going to have to figure out her weaknesses so he could take advantage of her.
Not that he couldn’t reach his goal, but it wasn’t going to be quite as easy as he’d anticipated. He was hoping for something a little more up close and personal, but tried to keep the smile on his face when he nodded. Francesca is such a beautiful name.” He turned and leaned his back against the counter and watched her. I guess I was supposed to monitor this thing.” There were bubbles in her hair, trailing along her nose and down her cheek, on her shirt, highlighting areas of interest for him like at the base of her neck, near where her nipple might be, and right at the vee of her crotch. His imagination was vivid enough that he could taste her skin in his mouth, the roll of her nipple on his tongue.
He needed to get the hell out of this kitchen and regain some of his killer instinct and get back in charge of the situation. He’s way more of a friend than any other lab rat I’ve worked with before, which could be because Cody actually has a grasp on things like social customs and empathy. I jump over the counter, crash into some stools, and make it to the door just as her toe catches on the package. I’ve told her a million times that people are going to overlook her brains because of how pretty she is—she should shock the hell out of them by showing off her mind.
Then I let her finger slide out of my mouth and glance down at the notes in front of me—like my heart isn’t about to kick out of my chest, and I’m not most of the way to a raging hard-on.
You don’t think the fact that you almost broke your leg had anything to do with my yelling at you? You kind of suck as a bully.” She puts her fingers to her lips, and I remember how it felt to have one in my mouth. So I fucked up and will be brought down a whole bunch of pegs when I have to grovel back in Israel. The sexy banter between the couple is hot enough to singe the pages, but the emotions remain genuine and real. She’d met the slightly older, ambitious Fisher as a young postgrad and could admit now that she’d been more than a little dazzled by the attention he paid her—especially after being surrounded for four years by inexperienced college boys. Since then, he’d witnessed Jack negotiate dozens of hostage situations and resolved quite a few of his own. How an orphan who’d spent his youth as property of the state had managed to make it to this lofty a position, he couldn’t begin to figure out.
Another empty exchange that would help numb his mind for an hour, but leave him feeling worse once it ended. It would be a disaster.” Those blue-green eyes met his once more, only this time humor lurked in their depths. His mouth went dry and he might have groaned out loud at the sight of her pink lips closing around it. Closing the distance between them, he didn’t stop until she needed to tip her head back in order to maintain eye contact. Unaware that he watched, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, appearing to steel herself for what lay on the other side. She plunked a menu in front of him and contemplated scooting away to avoid the deadly vortex of maleness.
He thought getting married meant he could still keep a girlfriend or two on the side.” The whole Dustin fiasco had been a blessing in disguise. Although he and his brother were estranged, he’d kept tabs on Luke’s professional progress.
It didn’t help that there weren’t any eligible men remotely close to her age in town, as they’d all left to find work several years ago.
There was no way in hell sticking around this town was something she wanted to do long term.
Things are getting out of hand.” Without a second thought, she started to move away until he grasped her hand. They glanced at each other as his hand, like the remainder of him, didn’t want to leave contact with her body. In fact, my father called just yesterday with “incredible news.” His longtime friend was looking for a research assistant. Gibson is all mile-long legs and shiny hair and way into open relationships with younger men who work in her lab. Maybe because I was so sure I could get these damn yeasts to work, to back up my hypothesis, and do more than just complete my thesis. I was so desperate to talk to anyone, I said okay…and after ten minutes of standing around awkwardly with a bunch of other Jewish college students, she suggested we go out for coffee. Speaking of having some fun, how about you go with me and my friend Nicola to that new club downtown? Why can’t you send it to my normal email address?” She flashes me a wide smile that she seems confident will do the trick. And even if the vacuum metastability event pans out and eradicates life on Earth as we know it, but, by some miracle, I’m the only guy left in the charred rubble of our universe, I’m pretty sure Gen would still see me as her friend and her friend only.
She starts to pull her hand back, but I grab her wrist, pull her hand toward mine, and suck her finger into my mouth. I know they must have taken you forever, and I know you’re crushed for time with your yeasts being so uncooperative. And I’m not a very good bully if I spend all my time catching you before you fall, tutoring you, and feeding you cupcakes,” I point out. The truth is, as good a friend as Gen is, I don’t discuss my family or my life in Israel with her. Derek gives Ginger so much more than incredibly hot sex, which makes his possessiveness tolerable because it’s based on emotional need, not ownership. Her posture and expression communicated how indignant she felt on Story’s behalf and it made her want to cry for the first time that evening.
They were standing in the middle of a well-lit hallway and he could barely restrain the urge to touch this near-stranger.
That sunshine scent curled around him, drawing him in closer, until he’d firmly breached her personal space. He’d been talking to her for two minutes and already abhorred the thought of her distressing over another man’s health. She didn’t wait for a response, just winked at him as she turned and sauntered toward the front desk, tossing Helen’s number into the trash as she passed.
Something foreign clutched inside his chest at seeing her so vulnerable, but Daniel hung back, knowing she would resent any intrusion.
After completing a stint in the Special Forces, Luke had made his mark in the forensic accounting field. As far as he could tell, this was a place for a bunch of gray-hairs, not a beautiful, vivacious young woman.
He’d also missed the full impact of her hair, the curly mass of it that ran to the middle of her back in the most amazing display of femininity he’d seen in a long time.
She didn’t seem in any hurry to remove her body part from the warmth of his hand, either, as her nipple poked into his palm. I’ve managed to appease her interest with stories about my time in the Israeli army without actually sheet hopping, and it’s always earned me a decent extension before.
We started talking, we made each other laugh, she told me about her awful boyfriend—the first of about six since I met her—and we’ve been hanging out regularly since. He also cares a great deal about her younger sister, Willa, something that means the world to Ginger. A fact that definitely needed further investigation, since she hadn’t yet shed a single tear over her broken engagement. After a brief stop at the nurse’s station, she turned down the corridor without looking back once.
But with Frankie’s cafe in serious trouble, Rafe must decide if he can close the deal… or if he’s found the deal breaker of a lifetime. But a gal needed a little fun while the big bad Probst wolf was knocking at her door, didn’t she?
But even debasing my moral code and spending a long, sweaty night with my superior can’t get me out of this mess. I try to keep her grounded, lecture her once in a while, and tutor her on Tuesdays, and she reminds me to take it easy now and then, drags me out of my lab to socialize with other humans, and sometimes pays attention to whatever lesson I’m going over with her.
He wondered fleetingly if Jack would be offended by Daniel picking up a nurse while his mentor lay incapacitated in a hospital bed. Probably not the kind who propositioned her within minutes of their first meeting, he thought with a flare of disgust. We have a solid friendship based on our easy back and forth and our ability to balance each other out.
When I mentioned this to her once, like a reasonable person, her answer was, “Why don’t you just change the appointment time, Adam? I didn’t really expect to become such good friends with her, but she’s made my last few semesters here feel almost like home.

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