Third Degree by Julie Cross Page B

couldn’t breathe.”
    “Probably swelling of the back of the throat and tongue.”
    Marshall steps in front of me, grips my shoulders, and gives them a little shake. “That was fucking scary, wasn’t it? Just appease me and say yes, because I’m feeling like a total wimp right now.”
    I laugh and shake myself from his grip. His shirt is tucked under his arm and I don’t want to get caught staring at his chest for too long. “Only scary if he hadn’t been prepared for the allergic reaction.” I do the calculations in my head. “I would have done CPR right away, so he probably would have made it to the hospital alive, since the paramedics responded so quickly—”
    Joe Longfield may have been prepared for the bee sting, but I’m not prepared for Marshall to completely invade my personal space by wrapping his arms around me and give me a tight sweaty hug. Kissing, making out—that might not catch me by surprise too much, but hugging … “Please be around if or when I ever almost die, Izzy.”
    “There’s so much wrong with that statement, I’m not even going to respond.” My voice is muffled against his skin, but I make an effort to glance around and see if anyone is watching. Marshall doesn’t seem to take this getting-in-trouble-for-getting-frisky-with-a-resident issue seriously. “You’re pretty sneaky about all this accidental touching.”
    He releases me and steps back. “What do you mean?”
    “Almost kissing me, what, twice now? And at least thirteen incidents of skin-to-skin touching, beginning with the unnecessary blindfold, but usually it’s carefully inserted into our current conversation and very relevant, so … well done, Marsh. You have a gift.” I flash him a grin and wait for him to look flustered or backpedal and make up excuses.
    He returns the smile and continues walking toward our building. “Oh … I guess I should have said, ‘What do you mean by accidental?’ ” He leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against the side of my face, causing a shiver to run up my spine. “I assure you that if I get into your personal space, it’s completely intentional.”
    My mouth falls open, but I have no words to counter with.
    There’s an exuberant bounce to his step, especially for someone who just ran a six-minute-twenty-second mile. “I feel totally high right now. Let’s go find some more victims to rescue. Maybe someone OD’d on beer in one of the frat houses last night—wanna check?”
    I roll my eyes. “Why is it that I’m labeled the weird one?”
    The amusement falls from his face and his expression turns serious. “I guess I didn’t realize that you did, you know, like real doctor stuff.”
    “What did you think I did?” I shake my head. People are so strange sometimes.
    He shrugs. “I don’t know. Like diagnostic equations or answering fancy questions?”
    I laugh. “Fancy questions?”
    “Genius-people questions.” He holds the door open to the dorm, letting me in first. “So you’ve been in charge of patients and actual treatment? Can you do anything crazy, like take out an appendix?”
    “I’m a surgical intern, so yeah. Appendectomies are typically one of the first solo surgeries doctors perform.”
    His mouth falls open. “You’ve done it alone?”
    “If by alone you mean with half a dozen nurses, a couple of anesthesiologists, and a resident and an attending watching over my shoulder, then yes.”
    “Damn,” he mumbles under his breath. “I almost forgot … I have something for you to look at in my room.”
    I charge up the stairs ahead of him. “Is this your way of getting me alone for some more intentional touching? Because if it is, I think we should shower first, don’t you?”
    “I love how you act like it doesn’t rattle you. And no, that’s not exactly what I had in mind. Especially after being labeled unprofessional the other night by my co-workers.”
    Does that mean he’s not going to almost kiss me again? Or actually