Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(60)

While he looked amused, I fell apart inside.

This was typical. So freaking typical. My attraction to every wrong guy—starting with losing my virginity three weeks into my first semester of college to that idiot Dean whatshisname, stuck with me over the years like crap on my shoe.

I tacked on the last piece of tape, securing the end of the protective wrap, wishing I could bind my heart with the same. Would he play me for a fool? Distract me from my fellowship goal with meaningless sex while my feelings get tangled up? “There. Good as new.” I gave him my trusty doctor’s grin. It was a failsafe. “Try to keep it clean and dry at work.”

“You’re overthinking it,” he muttered, sounding somewhat disappointed.

“I’m what? You need to keep the sutures dry and clean and—”

“No.” Adam shook his chin slightly. “Whatever’s rolling around in that pretty little head of yours that has your eyes looking sad. That’s what I’m talking about. Not this.” He held up my gauze-wrapped handiwork.

Could he read my mind? Oh hell no. “I’m not sure what you mean.” I closed my med kit. “It’s getting late. I have to be at work soon and traffic is going to be heavy and—”

Adam stood up abruptly, getting right into my space and staring me down. “You know what I’m talking about. Don’t overthink it. I’m an open book, Erin. You’ve got questions, I got answers. It’s best if that works both ways.”

I fumbled with a comeback, feeling cornered and dumbfounded. Were my female insecurities that transparent?

He drifted his fingertips down the side of my jaw and, for a moment, I thought he was going to try and kiss me. God, I wanted him to so badly. That would shut down my internal musings.

That feeling of being let down washed over me when he stepped out of my bathroom.

I thought he’d be making a beeline for my front door; instead he lingered, scanning over my spattering of pictures, even picking up the one of me when I graduated from medical school.

“Johns Hopkins?” Adam questioned.

I nodded, stepping to his side. “That’s my younger sister Kate in the blue dress.”

“I see some resemblance. You’ve got the same eyes. How old is she again?” He handed the picture frame to me.

“Twenty-six.”

“She’s Jason’s age.”

I wiped a wisp of dust off the frame, staring at her smiling face. “She graduates from veterinary school in a few months. She’s down at the University of Maryland. God, I miss her. But I’m sure I’ll see her for the funerals.”

“Funerals?”

I put the picture frame back on the shelf, straightening it. “My aunt and uncle were in a car crash a few days ago. The triple fatality on the Schuylkill that happened the night that you pulled me over?”

Adam’s shocked gaze whipped over at me.

“My Uncle Cal is still in ICU but he’s deteriorating and my aunt… my Aunt Karen was killed at the scene.”

He eyed me over with something resembling abject horror, his face turning pallid. “You mean to tell me that the vics were related to you?”

I nodded. “We’re all very close. This house is one of their rental units. They are, um, were like second parents to Kate and me.”

Adam rubbed his forehead before covering his eyes, shielding them from me while his lips rambled a few silent curse words.

When he finally looked at me, his face was pained. “I am so sorry, Erin. Oh, God. I had no idea.”

He was touching me, running his hands over my arms, feeling me as if I might be broken somehow. “You okay?”

I actually wanted to eke out a sob but refrained. Death was a fact of life, no matter how hard I tried to intervene. All we were capable of doing as doctors was delaying the inevitable. “I’m dealing. My parents are taking it hard, though. Really hard.” I picked up the picture of them huddled around the slot machines from one of their trips to Las Vegas, smiling at the big “Win a Honda” sign over their heads.

Adam held out his hand for it. “Is that them?”

Just looking at the picture hurt. So many wonderful memories cut short. “Yeah. This is my mom and dad and that’s Uncle Cal and Aunt Karen. The four amigos. She died at the scene.”

A tear escaped the corner of my eye.

Adam seemed to take this information harder than I would have expected. His grip tightened on the frame and the oddest look came over him. “I don’t even know what to say, Erin. I’m sorry you and your family are going through this. So much senseless violence in the world. So much I wish I could change.” His hand shook a bit as he set the frame back down, adjusting it with the tip of his finger as if to put it back exactly where it once was. “…I had no control over it,” he muttered, “God… have no control over any of it. The Manley brothers…”

I thought about all of the people who fought for their lives when they came through those ER doors, wishing I could fix them all, too, work some sort of miracle so that no one would have to experience loss or grief. “Sometimes I think our fate is just out of our control. No rhyme or reason to it. Bad people live; good people die. Innocent children fight diseases or suffer from the… the malicious mistreatment at the hands of their parents while drug addicts and gang bangers get to live on. It’s crazy and it makes no sense.”