My patient is certainly different.
Patients normally ask for their cell phones or ask a whole bunch of questions to find out who we’ve contacted. There’s usually a vulnerability to people who’ve been in an accident. This massive guy is about as vulnerable as a length of steel piping.
Scars run up and down his arms and legs, and there’s a faded white line at the top of his neck, peeking out from his tattoos. His dark hair and beard give him a wild look, but his bright blue eyes are playful and sharp. I can’t stop looking at him, like I’m entranced, caught in the sights of an apex predator.
“So, you said your name wasn’t Joseph.” I swallow, my mouth dry for some reason. “I mean, you mentioned you go by your middle name?”
“That’s right. Who wants to know?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Well, you knowmyname. I’d like to know yours.”
He smiles, and it’s surprisingly sweet in that big, gruff face. “Saxon. A pleasure to meet you, my angel.”
His name sparks something in my memory, but I can’t place it.
“That’s a nice name. Unusual. Aren’t you going to ask me about your cell phone, or your wallet, or…your motorcycle?” A warm heat rises up my neck. Darn it. I’m attracted to him. This is so unprofessional. Sometimes the other nurses will giggle about a cute patient, but I’ve never joined in. I’ve never considered that I’d be drawn to a patient, or what I’d do if I was. Work is work for me, and that’s it.
His gaze is steady. “I’m not worried. I figured a bunch of medics wouldn’t steal my stuff. And my brothers will take care of my ride.”
“Oh, you have family here in Prephis?” I ask.
“You could say that. I like your voice, angel. I bet you get patients hitting on you all the time.”
I smile. “Sometimes. I’m good at saying no to people.”
He laughs. “I bet you are. What do you like to say yes to?”
I should shut this flirty conversation right down, but I’m mesmerized. I step a little closer to the bed. His big, broad chest is bare. There’s a tattoo on his stomach that reminds me of something, and I try not to peek at it to get a closer look.
“Good cooking. Good movies. I’m a world-class Netflix watcher in my downtime. How about you?” I check his chart, just so I don’t embarrass myself more by staring at him. A patient has never affected me like this. I need to take a deep breath and collect myself.
“I like anything heist-related. And Star Trek.”
I look up. “I do too. I wouldn’t have guessed you’re a space nerd.”
“Yeah, I have brainsandbeauty. A real catch.”
I laugh. “Do you need any more pain relief?”
Saxon shakes his head. “Can’t abide that stuff. Makes me feel like my brain cells are all stuck together.”
I pick up his water jug. “I’ll be right back.”
Outside his room, I lean against the wall. It’s quiet up here away from the ER, with only one other patient in the room down the hall.
What’s happening? I’ve barely had a conversation with this guy and I’m flushed, with a dry mouth and my heart beating faster. His presence fills up that little room and I want to rush back inside, or maybe run away.
I walk over to the kitchen, turn on the faucet, and distractedly fill up the jug. When they brought Saxon in, he was fighting to wake up. There’s something wild about him, something he keeps tightly under control. My core twists again, as I imagine those big hands exploring my body.
The water gushes over my hands and I jump. I’m acting like a fool. Like many patients, he’s just flirting with me; jacked up and happy to be alive after his accident. I need to get myself back in professional mode. I walk to the storage room and grab the plastic bag with the contents of Saxon’s belongings from the locker, sign it out, and then walk back to the kitchen to pick up the jug.
My cell beeps and I walk faster, setting the water jug down on the hall table just outside Saxon’s room.
Blade: Got your text, couldn’t reply until now. I’m fine. Had trouble last night, so I decided to get out of town.
I sigh. My brother didn’t come home last night. Sometimes I wonder if I never texted him, if he’d ever text me first.
Kaia: What kind of trouble? Me and Aunt Ellie were worried.
