“God, this sucks so bad,” he hissed, staring up at the twinkling stars. A soft breeze blew across the open greenspace area, rustling the leaves on the trees and cooling his heated skin. He had to trust there was a reason for everything that happened. There was some sort of master plan in all of this.
It just seemed like he was grasping for excuses to help justify his actions.
Frustrated with himself, Robert looked around the building and headed for the closest unlocked set of doors to enter the hospital.
Landon listened to the almost deafening silence surrounding him. The utter quiet seemed out of place especially since he was in a hospital. There was no staff talking, no sign of human existence beyond his own. He’d heard rumors that the hospital was going to be rebuilt—they were too busy and the facility too small—so where were all the hurt soldiers he’d been hearing about?
Maybe the zombie apocalypse had happened. Kind of reminded him of the scene where Rick Grimes woke in the hospital and all hell began. Maybe he was the lone survivor of the massacre of Landstuhl Regional Medical Center.
Nah, that didn’t make sense for many reasons, but the primary one was his door was wide open. He’d have been massacred too, no doubt about it. If he just had his cell phone, he could prank call the guys in his squadron and wake their asses up, make them keep him company.
“You okay?”
Landon jerked his head toward the doorway. The voice startled him from his thoughts. Holy hell. And now he knew what Dr. Adams looked like in a tight-fitting T-shirt and running shorts. Yeah, he understood why the nursing staff spent so much time watching this man run. The visual treat likely explained the floor going silent a few minutes ago. The noises of hustle and bustle were filling the halls again as he took in the other distraction that had commandeered his thoughts this evening. The man was absolutely and most certainly dreamy. Sweat ringed the thin light blue T-shirt and highlighted the lean, muscular body just beneath.
The doctor lifted his arm, doing a small stretch as he stepped inside the room. The action caused the shirt to ride high across his waist and expose his firm abdominals. Landon lowered his eyes and swallowed hard when his gaze landed on the low-slung navy running shorts hugging Dr. Adams’s slim hips. The silky material clung to his body like a glove, and he could almost make out the lines of a really nice cock underneath the fabric. He shouldn’t gawk, but fuck, Dr. Adams was mouthwateringly hot.
Shit, now he’d have to bribe Holly to help him get near the window on the other side of the room just to watch Dr. Adams run past in the middle of the night. All those firm muscles in full stride would be breathtaking.
“Yeah, fine,” he croaked, finally getting his words out as he dropped his head back on the pillow. Landon slid his free hand under the thin blanket to cover his dick just in case it managed to plump even with all the medication they insisted he needed for pain. He stared at the ceiling and cleared his throat before trying again. “Never been much of a sleeper.”
“Me either. Bored?” He heard more than saw Dr. Adams move farther inside the room.
“Yeah.” What a serious understatement.
“I know it’s torture to keep you guys confined like this.” The doctor stopped beside his bed. Landon gathered the courage to steal another glance. Dr. Adams’s casually muttered words didn’t fit the conflicted look on his face as he lifted an arm and used his sleeve to wipe at his forehead. “I’ve got some time. Want some company?”
Oh hell, now Landon was as conflicted as Dr. Adams looked. Landon had to admit, he was intimidated as hell and that sure didn’t happen to him very often. “I don’t wanna keep you.”
“You’re not. Want some coffee? I smell a fresh pot somewhere.”
“Coffee’d be great.” Just the mention of a hot cup had him perking up. God, he hoped it was better than the lukewarm stuff that came on his breakfast tray.
“Hang tight.”
Landon had to halt the urge to check his breath. If it was bad, there was nothing he could do about it anyway. Instead, he ran a hand through his close cropped, dirty dark hair, feeling it standing every which way. Why did he have to look his worst?
“I brought it black. You look like a no-frills coffee drinker.”
“What’s that mean?” he asked and immediately started searching for the bed controls to lift his head. He couldn’t do anything about his appearance but he sure as hell didn’t have to look helpless in front of the doctor.
Dr. Adams caught him off guard again when he smiled a small smile and placed both cups on the rolling tray positioned by his bed. “I didn’t mean anything. You look like a guy that drinks his coffee black. Do you?”