Ryan paced next to Emily while she slept fitfully in her bed. He’d carried her to an exam room the moment she passed out, but she’d come to as fast as she’d fainted. He was worried about her anyway. The entire time he’d been checking her vitals, she’d been batting him away, insisting she was fine.

Reluctantly, he’d escorted her back to her suite, and when she’d continued to argue she was perfectly fine, he’d finally convinced her to lie down for a while.

Then the pacing started in her tiny living room. He was also biting a thumbnail. His mind wandered to every possibility. Sure, people fainted, but he didn’t like Emily passing out. He wasn’t even completely sure where his stress originated. He kept telling himself her health was a direct indicator of what he could expect from his parents, but it was more than that, and he knew it.

He liked her. He cared about her. And he needed to admit to himself that his interest was starting to develop beyond a friendship.

A low moan coming from her open bedroom door made him spin around and stride in her direction. When he reached her side, she blinked her eyes open.

A moment later she rolled those green eyes. “Seems like I often find you hovering over me when I wake up,” she joked. “You didn’t have to stay here. I’m fine. I just needed a nap.”

He sat on the edge of her bed and grabbed her hand. “You scared me.”

She pushed to a sitting position against the headboard, squeezing his hand. “I’m fine,” she repeated again.

“What happened in there?” He wasn’t buying her story.

She sighed, glancing at her lap. She was tucked under the covers, still wearing her purple scrubs from earlier. Ryan had slid off her shoes when he tucked her in. “I had some sort of flashback.”

“What do you mean?”

“From when the beaker broke with AP12 in it. The entire scenario was eerily similar. Like a déjà vu with different players in the picture.”

“Right. I wasn’t there. I knew it had something to do with a broken beaker, but you’re telling me it happened just like that? It exploded? No one was even touching it?”

She nodded.

A shudder ran up his spine. “That’s absurd. How often do beakers break in the lab?” His question was rhetorical. They never broke. Not without human error, and his team rarely ever made mistakes. Too much was at stake. They were always careful, following every imaginable protocol.

“Never,” she agreed. “Not like that. As if the glass was too thin or the burner got too hot too fast or something.”

“Shelby said the settings were all correct on the burner.”

She shrugged. “I’m sure it’s no big deal. I just panicked. Too many similarities, and I saw my life flash before my eyes remembering when that virus escaped into the air and infected all of us. I kept picturing the same thing happening. I’m sure I overreacted out of fear.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about catching any viruses this time. Michelle confirmed no one had added anything besides water to the beaker yet.” He hoped his words would keep her from worrying, even though he himself was not going to let this go.

She shivered and released his hand. “I should get back to the lab. I don’t want to be a wuss.”

“You’re not going back today. You need to rest. You’ve been pushing yourself. It’s only been three weeks. No one expects you to move mountains.”

She took a deep breath. “It keeps me from thinking about other things. At least when I’m working, my mind doesn’t wander.”

“What’s bothering you?” he asked, setting his palm on her thigh.

“Nothing you wouldn’t expect. The usual. Even though I’ve been helping Michelle out, and Shelby and Mina are incredibly patient and kind to me, there are a lot of holes in my knowledge. Too much has changed in ten years. I’m way behind.”

“You were a dedicated medical professional before the preservation, and you can be again now if it’s what you want. It will just take some time to catch up.”

She chewed on her lower lip for a moment and then dropped it. “I’m not sure I want to catch up.”

He met her gaze. “That’s okay too. No one expects you to do what you did ten years ago if it’s not what you’re interested in now.”

“That’s the thing, Ryan. It wasn’t ten years ago. It was a few weeks ago from my perspective. Who goes to sleep and wakes up not interested in their profession the next day?”

He wasn’t sure what the right thing to say was. Obviously, she was really struggling with her future plans even though there was no need. She was getting ahead of herself.

“If I want to practice medicine again—I mean, really get back into the lab and work like I did before my preservation—I need to take some classes or even go to med school again. I’m totally out of my element.”

“You can do either of those things, or neither. But you don’t have to decide today.”

She didn’t look convinced. “My mind wanders in a dozen different directions all the time. I used to be so focused. Now, I’m…well, not.” He could tell her smile was forced.

“When was the last time you ate?” he asked, thinking that also could have contributed to her fainting.

“I had breakfast.”

“Well, it’s late in the afternoon now, so how about we move to the other room, I’ll fix you a sandwich, and you can tell me about the things wandering around in your head.” He pushed to standing and held out a hand.

She looked a little pale, and then she flushed a slight pink as she took his hand. “I don’t think I can nail down specific things. I’m not that focused. Or I’m not sure I care about the same things.”

He pulled her to standing and grabbed her shoulders when she swayed.

“I’m good,” she insisted, stepping out of his grip and leading the way to the kitchenette.

In silence, he made her a sandwich and set it in front of her. When he took a seat across from her at her small table, he spoke again. “Talk to me.”

* * *

Emily took a bite instead and then a drink of water, trying to figure out what she might say to him. The truth was he was half the reason for her distraction, and she needed to stop kidding herself about it. She sure as shit wasn’t going to tell him, though.

Instead, she decided to make it short and sweet and change the subject. “I think it’s like I had a near-death experience, and it made me feel like I should lean back, take a breath, and reevaluate my life. No big deal.”

His gaze was narrowed as if he was trying to decide whether she was lying to him. “You did have a near-death experience, and you should take a breath.”

“See?” She sounded too cheery even to herself. “Hey, you drew blood from me in the lab this afternoon, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t even try to convince me you didn’t have someone check it for AP12.”

He grinned. “I did.”

“And?” Her heart rate picked up. His look was promising.

Ryan stood, rounded the table, and turned her chair to face him. He squatted to eye level as he cupped her face. “You’re all clear. No sign of AP12.”

The relief that flooded her system was instantaneous. She had forced herself not to worry about the possibility of the drug not working, but it had niggled in the back of her mind nevertheless from the moment she regained consciousness three weeks ago. All the air left her lungs as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him in an embrace.

He cupped the back of her head and whispered in her ear, “It’s going to be okay. You can look forward now and stop worrying.”

If he thought the success of that cure was the only thing worrying her, he was out of his mind. It was just one item to check off the list. In fact, removing that concern instantly caused all the others to shove toward the top as if volleying for first place.

She closed her eyes and soaked in his comfort, leaning her cheek against his shoulder. They had held hands on several occasions. He had stroked her face or leg or arm many times. But this was their first full hug. It felt good. It calmed her, while at the same time it became one of the many items on her worry list rallying to be number one.

What the hell was the status of her relationship with Ryan?