“How about I leave this one to you, Maggie? Are you comfortable handling the images on your own?” she asks with a warm smile.
Though tonight is only my first shift interning at the hospital, McKenna and I have clicked over the past four hours. She’s seen my competence firsthand on prior patients, and I’m excited that she trusts me enough to take on some work on my own already.
X-ray technician school may only be two years long with a few exams to secure certification, but I’ve been on an accelerated track. Despite the late-night college parties my freshmen year and a change from my original degree program to X-ray school, I’m still set to complete my training by the end of the next semester, right before Christmas.
I nod confidently. “Sure, I can handle it.”
I’m eager to showcase my skills while also getting closer to Clay to uncover the mystery behind his visit to the ER tonight.
As McKenna prepares to leave, I shoot a questioning look at Clay.He’s clad in nothing but thin, fitted shorts and a snug rash guard shirt, which has been hiked up on his right side, exposing an already reddened and bruised patch of skin directly over his ribs.
Given his current attire, it’s clear that he hadn’t been working on the ranch in his usual cowboy boots, hat, and long-sleeved flannel shirt when this accident occurred. His outfit and flat shoes suggest that he’d been involved in something physically demanding like a sport.
Without a word, I maneuver behind his bed, adjusting its height, and begin wheeling him down the hospital corridor, navigating the maze that leads us to the radiology department.
“I could have walked,” he grunts after the fourth turn down another all-white hallway, “It can’t be easy pushing two hundred pounds through a maze of concrete.”
“I’m stronger than you think,” I respond flatly.
From my vantage point behind him, I watch as his head shakes slightly, a smirk forming across his handsome features. Finally, we reach the end of the hallway and arrive at the dimly lit room.
“Do you think you’re able to stand over there by the machine?” I ask.
Without a word, he swings his agile legs over the edge of the bed with ease and strides over to the white podium where the X-ray machine is set up.
“Ok then…”
He crosses his arms over his chest defiantly, clearly unwilling to be treated like someone who isactuallyinjured and fixes me with a steady gaze.
I take a moment to appreciate the sight of him standing there in those short shorts, his broad shoulders, muscular chest, and bulging arms, a wave of heat washes over me. He’s certainly bulked up since the last time I saw him a summer ago.
I move towards him tentatively, reminding myself to stayprofessional and focused, despite the impact of his proximity on my body.
Maintaining an air of detachment and a neutral expression on my face, I reach up and carefully adjust the tight, stretchy fabric he’s bunched up on his right side, smoothing it down over the defined muscles of his abdomen until it lays perfectly flat. While I wouldn’t mind keeping those abs on display, I needed to ensure that the fabric doesn’t interfere with the imaging.
I clear my throat. “Ok, now turn to your right, drop your arms and stretch them out in front of you, please.”
He follows my instructions, but his positioning is still slightly off. I gently place my hands on his hips, adjusting his stance to better align with the camera. After rotating him slightly, I reposition his arms again, lifting them just a bit more to ensure everything is at the right angle.
We’re touching now, my warm fingers against his clammy skin. The proximity makes the scent of his cooled sweat, lingering on his tight shirt, overwhelmingly intense and intoxicating.
I always thought I was a deodorant and cologne girl but now I’m starting to think the scent of raw musk and hard work might be more my style. I can’t help but wonder if he can feel the rapid beat of my pulse through my veins as I press my palm into his back, guiding him into the perfect angle.
“There, that’s better,” I murmur, forcing myself to step away. My body is humming with pleasure at just the mere touch of him and I’m covered in heat as I move to my position behind the protective barrier and begin taking the images.
I ask him to turn and face the other direction, then move forward to adjust his body again—mostly because I want another excuse to touch him but also to be sure I get this just right.
Each time I step forward to reposition him and then retreat to the booth, I can feel Clay’s intense gaze tracking my every move.It’s unnerving but I keep my composure, holding my head high and tilting my chin to show that it isn’t fazing me. But inside my head, I’m wondering if he’s undressing me in his mind the way I’m with him
I tab through the images I’ve taken, making sure I took enough to give the doctor what he needs but also so that I can steal a few more glances of Clay standing in front of me.
He’s now lost deep in thought as he stares at the blank, white hospital wall. There’s a sad look on his handsome face and I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about.
Be professional, Maggie.
“I got what I needed. You can lay back on the bed,” I instruct, paging back through the ten images I’ve once more.
After a year of studying radiographs, I don’t notice any obvious breaks or fractures in the images. However, the final diagnosis will be up to the doctor who might also recommend a CT scan for further evaluation. My mind drifts to why Clay is here and what he is doing. I cast a tentative glance toward where he’s now seated back on the hospital bed lost in thought and I decide, I’m going to get it out of him.
