Patient X

pte

and the few hours of sleep she managed to squeeze in. But here she was, in the middle of a bustling supermarket, hunting

aint hum of pop music playing overhead. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly, and the c

e tips of her toes, fingers just grazing the edge of the box. Sh

for better leverage, an arm reached past her, easi

thank an employee-only to be met

rouble, s

ay that looked effortlessly styled rather than messy. His sharp jawline an

istraction. "I'm not your sweetheart," she said,

. "Really? Because it looked like yo

," she said, ignori

, as if deciding whether it was good enough. "Si

iffened. "H

le reaching for it. Either that, or yo

from his hand. "Thanks for

between herself and the infuriating stranger,

or should I keep cal

rply. "You should tr

kets, as if entirely unbothered by her

at him. "Look, I don't know what your

a nurse,

ened. "How do

sted-but-determined look. And," he gestured vaguely at

rnally and shoved it

m perceptive, I think it's onl

ng him or just get this conversation over with. Aga

ed, like he'd ju

ended a hand. "Pleasure

ched hand for a second, then wa

im chuckle

his wouldn't be the