The Position Read Online Free Page A

my impulsive ass. “God, Jude. I’m so sorry I dragged you into that. I just reacted. I wasn’t thinking…”
    But he just looks at me like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to figure out.  
    “What’s wrong?” I sniff, self-consciously wiping at the smeared makeup under my eyes.  
    “You are a very strange and mysterious girl, do you know that?” Lazarus shakes his head. “I just realized, I know almost nothing about you.”
    I shrug, trying to hide the nervousness I feel whenever someone wants to pry into my fucked up personal life.  
    “What’s there to know?”  
    “I have a feeling quite a bit.” He rubs at his whiskers, looking mystified. “I’ll admit, you have me rather…fascinated. I’ve never met anyone like you.”  
    I smile sheepishly. Lazarus holds my eyes. He’s different in this moment. It’s hard to describe. He seems entirely grounded and present, which makes me think that the rest of the time he’s either playing the famous architect part or relenting to his weird, sexual kinks. My eyes unconsciously flick down to his mouth. His lips look so soft behind the sexy, rough stubble on his face.  
    “Thank you,” I say. “For being there for me. You were amazing.”  
    Lazarus reaches out and pushes a stray strand of hair behind my ear. It’s such an intimate gesture, it takes my breath away.  
    Then, of course—fuck my life—his stupid cell phone rings. Again. This time he fishes it from his inside pocket, looks at the screen, and sighs. I glance over and catch the name, too. Celestina.  
    “Will you excuse me?” he mumbles as he gets to his feet and crosses the room before answering.  
    I watch him pace a few times back and forth behind a row of chairs, his brow furrowed and unhappy. With a groan, I rub my face and try to wipe the mascara smears from under my eyes. I wonder about what kinds of problems Celestina has in her life. Accidentally corking a bottle of wine? Snagging her new two thousand dollar sweater on her ten thousand dollar purse? Her Uber driver turning up five minutes late? Whatever. Like Lazarus, she happened to be born in a crystal palace. And I was born in the shitter.  
    One of the nurses who took Captain in appears.  
    She crouches beside me with a gentle smile. “Sweetie, he’s going to be okay.”  
    Tears flood my eyes again and I before I know it, I’ve thrown my arms around her neck. She pats my back, and I can’t help wondering how many strangers she hugs every day. All that reassuring. And consoling.  
    “Oh, thank God!” I mutter.
    “He’s a tough cookie,” she goes on. “We still have some tests to run, and then we’re going to keep him sedated for the night. You won’t be able to see him until tomorrow, so there’s no reason to hang around here, really.”  
    I nod and wipe at my eyes. “Thank you so much.”  
    Lazarus appears, tucking the phone back into the inside pocket of his coat. I smile up at him.  
    “She says Captain is going to be okay!”  
    He looks genuinely relieved. “I’m so glad to hear it. Are you staying, Mickey, or do you want me to drive you home? You’ve been through enough today.”
    Before I can answer, the nurse blurts out, “Take her home. She won’t be able to visit until tomorrow, so…”  
    Lazarus nods. “Where do you live, Mickey? I’ll drop you off.”  
    I blink at him. Oh, sure. Take me home. My car is parked behind a Walgreens not too far from here. I’ll invite you in for tea!
    “I’d rather go back to the office,” I blurt out. “I have a lot to do.”
    When we get to the car, Lazarus pops the trunk and digs a clean shirt from a small valise.  
    “If you change your mind later,” he says, unbuttoning his shirt as if we were siblings sharing a room, “let me know, and I’ll call you a cab.”  
    I’m too mesmerized to speak, my eyes fixed on the flash of bare flesh peeking through. Without a thought, he slips off the shirt and tosses it into the open trunk. My jaw