Getting Vincent out of the office, into the elevator, down to the underground parking lot, and then to his car, is a feat all on its own. Why do you have to be so ripped?! You’re heavy! I shout inside my mind, but my teeth are gritted under my mask, so I don’t say it out loud.  

I recognize it’s the same car he drove me home in yesterday. I’m grateful that his parking spot is right beside the elevator, but more than that, I’m grateful he has his eyes closed so he can’t see how hard I’m sweating.  

His lethargy does worry me a little, he seems so off balance and tired. He only really has his arm around my shoulder and leans on me a little, but his muscles make him heavy. Whether it’s because I’m tired after supporting him all this way or because he’s starting to lose consciousness, I can’t tell. 

Unlocking the car, it’s enough for me to shove him into the passenger’s seat, buckling his seat belt for him. I lean over him to find the lever under the seat so he can lie back when I hear Vincent chuckle. His hand is on my shoulder as he asks, “What are you doing?” He sounds groggy. 

When I blink at him, I can see how close my face is to his and how our chests are rubbing together; this is closer than we’ve ever been. 

Startled by the proximity, I quickly straighten, only to bang my head on the roof of the car. “Ouch!” I hiss out my breath, rubbing the back of my head as I wince. 

“Hey, careful! We don’t want you to get your head checked out, too.” He chuckles again and his eyes look heavy as he gazes at me. Though it constantly floods me with embarrassment, I can’t deny I love it when he looks at me with those dark eyes. It’s like he’s hooked me so I can’t escape and my body tingles all over. 

I’m so damn grateful I’m wearing a mask and he can’t see how red my face is—if he can, I hope he’ll think it’s just from half-carrying him, though that’s probably an overstatement.   

He raises a brow and I realize I’ve been staring at him in silence for too long again; it’s a habit I vow to break, though I wonder if I’m really capable. 

“S- Sorry! I was just looking for the lever to put your seat back.” I don’t make eye contact with him, slinking out of the car so I’m just standing next to the open door. It feels like I can breathe better and think a little more clearly when there’s distance between us. 

Vincent points to the door and says, “It’s just a button. I’ve got it. You get in… Though, are you sure you don’t want to head back up and change? It’s cold out. You don’t even have your jacket.”

In my determination, I realize I’ve completely forgotten everything except getting Vincent to the car. I haven’t told Sam what happened or where I’m going. I abandoned my cart in the middle of the hall, didn’t clock out, didn’t change. I’m lucky I have my phone and wallet on me, but I’m still wearing my blue jumpsuit and sneakers.

Looking at Vincent, I see he’s not dressed any more practically. He doesn’t have a jacket either. I swiftly take decisive action. “It’s not important. I don’t want to waste time running back upstairs to grab stuff. Besides, we’ll stay warm in the car. Let’s just get to the hospital. Though, I should call Sam at some point to tell her what’s going on.”

The thought fills me with a bout of dread as I wonder how upset she’ll be. 

Vincent nods, flinching a little as he puts his hand to his head and closes his eyes. “Yeah, of course. Do whatever you have to do… Thanks for driving me. Got your license with you? You said you didn’t own a car…” The way he says it makes me wonder if he’s secretly asking if I’m even allowed to drive, though maybe I’m just nervous. 

“I do,” I say sternly before stepping back and closing the passenger’s side door with a heavy slam. I walk around to the driver’s seat, getting in and closing the door. I put my seatbelt on and adjust the seat and mirror. 

This car is definitely what they call a luxury car. I’ve never seen so many contraptions in a vehicle. Everything is controlled by buttons and touch screen. It makes me feel uncomfortable as I’m quickly trying to figure out how to operate it.  

It hasn’t been that long since I’ve been behind the wheel—I used to drive all the time in my hometown—but my parent’s car is an older common model that still uses bladed keys and doesn't have nearly as many convoluted buttons. 

After a few moments of fiddling—all made worse with Vincent watching me in silence—I get the car started and pray to the automobile gods that I wouldn’t cause even a scratch. I pull out of the reserved parking spot and follow the signs toward the exit. “Can you give me directions to the hospital?” I ask, glancing over at Vincent who’s slightly reclined in his seat. 

He’s watching me and it makes me nervous. 

There’s a moment of careful consideration before he leans forward and puts the destination into the built-in GPS. He pauses there before he says, “I can call Sam if you want, so you focus on driving. Don’t want her to worry or be looking for you.”

I look at the GPS, seeing the general route and turns to take. Nodding I mutter, “Good idea,” but my heart is racing; I can feel my veins straining against the thrum of my pulse.

The call’s on speaker and it only rings twice before I hear Sam answer, “Mr. Sharpe! Hello! How can I help you, sir?” She sounds breathless and I wonder if she’s been looking for me or calling me. My phone should be on vibrate but maybe I’ve been too distracted to notice it going off. 

Vincent looks irritated by Sam’s loud, tinny voice echoing through the interior of the car, but I wouldn’t be able to tell from just his response as he says cheerfully, “Sam! Sorry to bother you—”

“No bother, sir!”

He pauses before forcing a smile as if she can see him. Maybe it’s just to keep him in the act of pretending everything is fine. “Great. Glad I haven’t caught you at a bad time. Listen, Micah and I have left the office—”

“What?! Why?” There’s a squeal and I think it’s the sound of her shoes against a freshly mopped floor, like she’s stopped in her tracks. 

Vincent’s calm as he carefully selects his words to answer, “There was an accident in my office. Micah was cleaning the windows and the ladder tipped. He fell and the ladder unfortunately hit me pretty hard in the head, so we’re—”

“WHAT? Oh my god, Mr. Sharpe! Are you two okay?! Can I do anything?” Sam sounds panicked, and it fills me with guilt as I keep my focus on the road. It’s not just guilt for the accident, which Vincent masterfully downplays, it’s also for making Sam worry. This is a big mistake to make on only my second day, and I’m anxious over what it means for my position, too. Nobody wants a janitor that almost kills their CEO. 

“Sam, breathe,” Vincent says sternly, and it makes my grip tighten on the wheel. I’ve never really heard him with that tone. Control… Demand… It’s not unkind, but there’s a quality in it that makes me blush and shudder, and my mind wanders back to when I’d knocked over that recycling bin in his office and gazed up at him from my knees… Then my thoughts wandered to my dream—

“Sorry, sir. I’ll shut up,” Sam says, a little disheartened but definitely calmer. 

Vincent’s tone returns to normal, soft and patient as he clarifies, “We’re both fine but thought it would be safest to head to the ER just to be sure. Micah’s driving me, but he didn’t clock out and was worried that he left things in a state. I hope you’ll excuse him in this incident as he was just following my direction.”

That’s not true, I think to myself, eyeing Vincent. He’s looking at me again and it makes me quickly pull my gaze away. I swallow. I want to tell him not to take the blame for my stupid mistakes, but… he is the CEO. Him saving my ass and covering up my major fuckups is probably a blessing I shouldn’t shoot myself in the foot for. 

I hear Sam sigh into the receiver before she says, “Of course, please don’t worry. It’s my fault, too. There was a mix up with the cleaners today and I thought we could take care of it. I should have just rescheduled the usual crew, but I wanted the windows to be nice for that big meeting you have tomorrow.”

Vincent shakes his head, even though she can’t see him. “Not your responsibility, Sam. I’ll talk to the day team, they shouldn’t have passed it on to you. For now, I’m sorry about the extra work. Consider it overtime. I’ll talk to financing.”

“Oh sir, you don’t have to—”

“I insist. And I’ll write up the incident report. Thank you, Sam, for your understanding.”

“Tell Micah to take it easy!” Sam says quickly, like she’s worried Vincent will hang up before she gets a chance to say it.”

He nods to himself. “I will,” he says, catching my gaze. “Goodnight.” He hangs up the call and leans back into his reclined chair. He folds his hands on his stomach, closing his eyes like he’s about to fall asleep. 

I wonder if I should keep him awake, but we’re almost at the hospital now. I assume we’ll just drive the rest of the way in silence—which is fine by me, I’m already starting to freak out as reality hits me—but Vincent’s deep voice penetrates my anxious thoughts as he says, “How did you know about Nigel?”

My brows furrow slightly and, as we pull up to a red light, I stare at him—and his stupid, perfect, handsome face. “What do you mean?” I ask.  

It hits me before he answers and my eyes grow wide. 

“You seem very familiar. Have we met?”

“No! No, we haven’t. I don’t think so!”

“You’re sure we’ve never met?” 

“I’m sure…”

Vincent had blatantly asked me several times if we knew each other, and I had vehemently denied it. I’m an idiot. How could I be so stupid to let it slip that I know his driver’s name?! 

“Micah?” Vincent asks, and he sounds a little harsher. 

I can’t look at him as I try to think up some excuse. “Oh… I… I must have come across it online—”

“Why would any article online mention my driver?”

That’s a very good point, Vincent, I think bitterly to myself. I told him before, I’m a terrible liar. And I meant it. Usually I’m honest to a fault, that’s why I let these facts slip so easily… Maybe you should just tell him, Micah. Tell him what you are, how you met… I want to, lying is painful… but I can’t. I’m too scared of what the consequences would be for both of us. 

Squeezing the steering wheel, I fight for another excuse, muttering sheepishly, “Sam must have mentioned it. I don’t know. I don’t remember, I’m sorry.”

Vincent grunts most unhelpfully as I can’t really tell if he believes me or not. 

He changes the subject, asking instead, “What kind of hospital orderly gets queasy at the sight of blood? Wouldn’t that make it difficult to do your job?”

My stomach is sinking deeper and deeper every time he pokes holes in my lies. Dread coils inside me, squeezing my heart and making me feel sick. “Well… the mask helps, but, as you can see, I’m not an orderly any more. Part of that… is because of the blood.” That isn’t exactly a lie, so it feels a bit more natural coming out of my mouth. Hopefully it sounds more genuine too. 

“I see…” is all Vincent says.

I’m saved from any further interrogation as we finally get to the hospital. 

I pull in and park by a meter. Turning off the car, I get out and use an app to pay, rushing back to put the ticket on the front dash. Then I hurry around the car so I can help Vincent get out. “Do you think you need a wheelchair?” I ask, wondering if it will save me from sweating more as I try to be a human crutch for this jacked, hunk of a man. 

“A wheelchair?” Vincent scoffs, “Hell no. I’m fine. Having you to lean on is all I need.”

I flick my wide-eyed stare up to meet his gaze. He’s smiling at me and it makes my heart throb. Don’t look at me like that. Or I’ll never get over you, I think. 

It’s busy inside the ER and I immediately feel dizzy as we enter the triage area and cue up in the short line to answer intake questions before being seen by a triage nurse. The bright fluorescent light makes me nervous. It reminds me of the sun, but not only that, I’m worried it will draw attention to my unnatural features. Is my light hair pink now because of the sweat? Will I be asked to change my mask? Will my fangs show through? They’re still sharp in my mouth…

And worse than that… I can smell blood. A lot of blood. It’s faint, hanging in the air with the mixing scents of different types, but it makes me dizzy; it’s almost like I’m floating. 

I feel something press against my chest and look up to see Vincent is placing a bright pink VISITOR sticker on me. He has a plastic medical bracelet on his wrist and I realize he’s already signed in. 

Have I been spaced out for that long? 

Pulling me to stand off at the side and not block anyone else, he smiles at me, tilting his head thoughtfully, “Looks good on you,” he says, and I can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood. “I really appreciate you driving me here, but, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I’ll be in good hands—”

“Of course I’m staying.” My brows furrow angrily as I stare up at him, offended he’d even give me the option to leave. “What if you try to take off before being seen?” 

He laughs, wincing as he holds his head. “I won’t. I promise.”

Though I believe him, it isn’t enough to convince me to leave. “Well, what if your head gets worse and something happens? Someone may not notice if you’re alone. You’re injured and…” I stare up at him, my pulse jumping as I think, I don’t want to leave you alone.

Vincent’s smile doesn’t fade. In fact, he looks amused, which makes me blush. “And…?” he asks, waiting for me to finish my sentence. 

I fight for an excuse to stay, wanting to be with him just a little longer. “And… I don’t know! I feel guilty, you’re here because of me. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Besides, maybe you’ll need someone to drive you home after! Come on, let’s just go find a seat and wait until you’re called.”

Vincent shoves his hands into his trouser pockets, looking down at me. The way his dark eyes reach into me makes my insides flutter and my whole body heat. It’s like one look puts me under his spell. He stands there for a moment, like he wants to say something or is waiting for me to speak.

After a few agonizing seconds of silence he murmurs. “Alright. I’m glad to have you here with me. Thank you, Micah… for returning the favor.”