the elevator. Quinn pushed the button for their floor. Next to him, Josh stood quiet and tense. Quinn felt as if their roles had been reversed. Up until this moment, he had been the one to be tense and silent while Josh was calm and at ease.
He hated seeing Josh unhappy. Taking another chance, he reached over and took Josh's hand in his. Rather than pulling away or tensing up, Josh laced their fingers together and squeezed. Quinn risked a glance at him. Their eyes met, and Josh's lips turned up into a small smile.
Quinn smiled back, delighted. Then he leaned against the elevator wall and savored the warm pressure of Josh's hand in his. He couldn't remember the last time he'd held hands with anyone. Josh's hand was slim, long-fingered, and strong. It was smaller than Quinn's, but not tiny or fragile in any way.
The elevator dinged, signaling their floor, and the doors opened. They stepped out and walked the short distance to their rooms. At Quinn's door, they stopped.
Josh gazed up at him, his brown eyes regretful and worried. "Thanks for everything. I'm sorry about this."
"It's no problem." Quinn gave Josh a rueful smile. "We seem to have bad luck."
That made Josh laugh. "We do, don't we?" He squeezed Quinn's hand again. "Want to try again tomorrow?"
Of course Quinn wanted to try again. Anytime, anywhere. He nodded.
"Good. How about I come get you for breakfast tomorrow, at about eight?"
"That sounds good to me." Quinn released Josh's hand, expecting the other man to head straight for his room. To his surprise, Josh leaned up and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his lips.
"Night, Quinn." With a last smile, Josh turned and walked the short distance to his room.
Quinn opened his door and went inside. His hand went to his mouth of its own accord. Josh had kissed him. He wanted to run after Josh and kiss him back, to freeze the moment in his memory.
That wasn't going to happen tonight. Josh had a patient to take care of. Quinn sighed and looked for his cell phone. At least he could call Stephanie back before she got mad at him. Preparing himself for loud, excited squealing, he dialed her number.
Chapter 11
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Gritty, half-closed eyes greeted Josh as he peered into the mirror. The harsh light of the bathroom confirmed what he'd suspected: he looked like hell. He'd been on the phone half the night with Amanda O'Connell, talking her through what to do about little Jimmy's fever and keeping her calm. With her husband in Afghanistan on a fifteen month combat tour and her family hundreds of miles away, she didn't have anyone else. She'd apologized several times for interrupting his vacation. He'd assured her it was fine, and it was. He didn't regret helping her. He couldn't help his disappointment about having to leave Quinn, but he'd done what he had to do.
This morning, what he had to do was be at Quinn's room by eight. He had less than fifteen minutes to make himself presentable, a daunting task. He turned the water in the shower to cool and stepped in, hoping a quick shower would wake him up.
As he scrubbed himself with the citrus-scented soap, his thoughts turned to the night before. The way Quinn had taken his hand in the elevator had been sweet. He'd never been much of a hand holder in the past, but he couldn't deny how warm and good Quinn's large hand had felt covering his.
His mind tried to wander to other places Quinn's hand would feel good on, but he stifled the wayward thought. He didn't have time to jerk off right now, and he didn't want to show up at Quinn's door with a hard-on. He rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, turned off the water, and got out of the shower.
After a quick rubdown with a towel, he brushed his teeth and went back into the bedroom. He dressed in boxer briefs, khaki cargo shorts, and a maroon T-shirt with the logo of the medical center that housed his practice on the chest. He found his wallet, shoved his feet into a pair of sandals, and stuck his sunglasses on his head. Once he