The beta sighed and pulled up a seat. “Ollie, babe, we’ve had this conversation five times in the last thirty minutes. Your clothes were cut off because you were covered in drugs. With the amount of times you shifted in the back of the ambulance, the only thing they could get you in was a hospital gown.”
As she spoke, Oliver caught the eye of an elderly couple sitting at the next table along. They looked him up and down, wrinkling their noses in disgust. It annoyed Oliver to no end, so he sprung out of his seat before Nancy could get a grip on him. “I am a police officer,nota drug addict,” he said, pointing and shaking his finger.
“Oliver, for the love of God, your arse…” Nancy stood behind him as she tried to pull the robe together. “Sorry both. He’s a paranoid schizophrenic, can’t separate fantasy from reality. I’m his carer. Come on now dear,” she said, trying to usher him out of the dining room.
“I am not! And she isnotmy carer!” He shouted, cursing as the cannula snagged the back of his hand.
“See, now you’re running around with your arse outandterrorising the elderly. Time to get you back to your cubicle, Ollie.”
Oliver huffed. “I don’t want to, Nance. It’s boring as shit up there.”
“Do I need to call your brother?”
Oliver shivered. “No. No, youdo not.”
“Good. I’m glad we agree.” She gestured towards a set of double doors at the far end of the corridor. “In your own time, love.”
“Nancy, where are my clothes?”
“For the love of—get in therenow,” she said, shoving him through the doors.
There was a series of squeals and sighs as he stepped back into the triage bay. It was a circular room with a row of desks nestled in the centre of several blue-curtained cubicles. The nurses appeared to have abandoned their stations, in favour of something to the left of the double doors. Curiosity getting the better of him, Oliver’s feet slapped on the linoleum floor as he padded towards the gaggle of white uniforms.
“I can get that for you,” one red-haired omega nurse said, fluttering her eyelashes.
“No, I can!” Another cut her off, practically pushing the first out the way.
Oliver craned his neck to see over the gathering, eyes narrowing when he saw a dishevelled and shirtless Lucas leaning against the curtain pole like Mr fucking Darcy. He had little monitoring stickers all across his chest, which Oliver suspected were totally unnecessary. Still, he couldn’t blame the staff for wanting a look.
“That’s alright,” Lucas said, running a hand through his hair. “I can manage.” That alone drew another round of lustful sighs from the gathering. A male nurse ran his fingers across Lucas’ shoulder, so Oliver scoffed and rattled his IV toward the fawning medical staff.
“Do you mind?” he snapped, dropping the IV back onto its wheels with a clatter. The nurses turned towards him. “I have very important business with this man.”
The staff narrowed their eyes, before one whispered, “Pst, that’s his colleague.”
That was just plain rude.
“Colleague?” Oliver scowled, “I amnothis?—”
“Hi,” Lucas said, raising a hand with a lazy smile.
“Hello,” Oliver replied, glowering as though someone had just pissed on his chips.
The staff glanced between them, whispering behind raised hands as Oliver stepped forward. He parted the white uniforms like Moses and the red sea, before pressing a hand to Lucas’ chest. He leaned up on his tiptoes and brushed a featherlight kiss to the alpha’s lips. It drew a round of shocked gasps from the group, and Oliver gave himself a self-satisfied smirk as he leant into Lucas’ chest.
“As you were,” he barked.
“Christ on a bike, you two,” Nancy said, bringing her hand up to her face. “This is ahospital. You areprofessionals. And Ollie, your arse isstillon display.” Oliver knew his arse was on display because Lucas’ hand had drifted straight to it.
“Detective Constable Reed!” a stern voice called over the triage suite. “Get back to your cubicleimmediately!”
The nurses dissipated as the same stout nurse from his previous admission stomped across the ward. Except she wasn’t a nurse, she was the ward matron, and Oliver paled as she approached with an unopened syringe packet clutched between her fingers. She looked mightily pissed off, as a strand of hair escaped her tightly coiffed bun.
“Between the two of you, my staff have gottennowork done this morning.” She levelled a finger at Lucas. “You, for being too handsome and distracting,” her finger slid to Oliver, “And becauseyouhave tried to escape every two minutes.”
Oliver tutted and pointed at himself. “I think you mean I’m the handsome one.”
Lucas chuckled and pulled him tighter against his chest. “You are themosthandsome, Reed.”
