Chapter 6: Night Shift

I let go of his shirt.

"You wrote the rule," Keir said. "I'm keeping it."

"I was only helping with the buttons."

"I know what you were doing."

His grip on my wrist loosened, and I sat back on my heels.

"Then what do you need?"

He looked at the bed, and then at me, and the muscle in his jaw worked.

"The transfer," he said. "The chair to the bed. I have two men who do it. I sent them to bed."

"Why?"

"Because you're a doctor, and I wanted to see how you do it."

"That's a lie."

"Yes," Keir said. "But I'm not changing the order."

I stood and set the brake on the chair.

"Arms around my neck."

He hesitated.

"I'm not going to drop you."

"I've been dropped," he said, so quietly I almost missed it.

I didn't answer that.

I put one arm under his knees and the other behind his back and showed him where to put his hands.

He was heavier than I'd guessed.

I braced my hips against the mattress and lifted him, and his arms locked around my neck, and for a moment his whole chest was against mine.

I felt his heartbeat through two layers of cloth.

It was going very fast.

I laid him on the bed and pulled his legs straight, one and then the other, and checked the skin along his hips for pressure marks.

"Roll for me."

He rolled.

His back was long and broad and marked with the surgical scar, a pale seam from the shoulder blades to the base of his spine.

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