“I’ll let you change and be back in a bit to check on you.”
Before I can leave, I hear that deep voice say, “Miss?”
I pop my head back through the curtain.
He glances at the hospital attire with a questioning look on his face. “Do I really need to put this on? I mean, it’s just my ankle, and I am wearing shorts. I’ll probably just need an x-ray, right? Quick wet read by the radiologist, and I’ll be on my way.” He flashes me that dimple again.
I look at him dumbfounded because he is right. I was simply on autopilot, trying not to be affected by his unyielding stare and that damn dimple. “Um, yeah. That’s okay. You can stay in your clothes.” The words come out of my mouth, but I would genuinely like nothing more than to see a lot more of that body. I want to scramble out of the room before my traitorous blushing face gives me away.
I am not used to people questioning instructions. Is he in the medical field? Most people simply comply and throw the damn gown on. Plus, I am surprised by his terminology. He knows the medical jargon, which makes me more curious than ever.
“Have a seat on the stretcher, and I’ll get you a pillow to elevate your leg and an ice pack while you wait. My name is Liv, and I’ll be your nurse this evening. You’re right about the x-ray. I’ll go throw the order in now, so you won’t have to be here any longer than necessary. How is your pain right now?”
I’m surprised I could get out a couple of coherent sentences in a row. Autopilot phrase I commonly use seems to be taking over my thinking. He looks at me with those smoking blue eyes, and I then notice lusciously thick lashes surrounding them.
Staring fixedly at me, he says, “Not too bad.”
Why do guys have such thick eyelashes while women have to pay for that stuff? He slumps back onto the stretcher and brushes his hand through his hair, still not looking away. It makes my breath hitch, and I look down at his leg to hopefully break the tension in the room.
“Good, then I’ll have one of the techs bring you that pillow and an ice pack.”
As I begin to turn away again for the second time, he stops me by saying, “Liv, I thoughtyouwere going to bring me those items.”
I glance upward and see the amusement on his face. He knows that I find him attractive. Now he is just fucking with me. Cocky much? I need to get it together. With as much disinterest as I can muster, I turn back around.
Without looking back, I say, “I’ll try, but otherwise, someone will be back shortly. If I cannot make it back sooner, that is.” Before I close the curtain, I add more sway to my ass. I might as well play this up.
I head straight for the nurse’s station. I grab at tech and ask them to bring the items over. I’d like to avoid further embarrassment if possible. I pick up my iced coffee and take a few large gulps. My mouth is dry, and my heart is hammering in my chest. I wonder if he felt the same way. Maybe it was all in my head? Either way, it’s going to be a long night.
ChapterTwo
Dax
How didI end up in this god-forsaken emergency department on a Friday night? I should be out partying. I should be getting laid. Ishouldbe doing anything else someone my age would be doing other than sitting in here. But my father, the orthopedic doctor extraordinaire, insisted I come to be evaluated. I finally get some time to cut loose when I end up in a hospital while on a short vacation. All work and no play make Dax a grumpy man. I rein in my self-loathing and decide to make the best of my remaining time despite this minor inconvenience.
I knew a FaceTime call to get his opinion was a bad idea. I mean, it’s onlyslightlybusted. Likely just a sprain. But he insisted on x-rays. And since his cocky ass has no trust in the radiologist or my medical opinion, he wanted a copy of the x-ray for his review. He recommended I go to this facility since one of his buddies practices here. He seems to know people everywhere, but he is one of Houston’s best sports medicine docs. I guess this isn’t a surprise. I should also be thankful he’s my dad. His success was what made me want to go to med school. He wanted me to follow him into sports medicine, but my interest has always been in ortho trauma. Yep, just another year, and I’ll be done.
The stress of my fellowship has been getting to me. Late nights in the OR, long clinic days, and call shifts mean I have little time for myself. It’s an exhausting schedule. Any sliver of time I do have off, I try to spend it surfing. Most people think there isn’t much surfing on the Gulf of Mexico’s Texas side. But it can be amazing if you know where to surf on certain parts of the jetties. It has the notoriety for inconsistent, choppy waves at best. With the massive amount of wind or, better yet, post-storm, it can be some of the best surfing around. Don’t get me started on hurricane season. That’s a whole other level of crazy. Some day, I’ll live near the water. It’s always been my goal.
Which is how I ended up in my current predicament. I rarely have time for vacation, but an unexpected break in my schedule allowed me to come to Padre Island with a few buddies down the coast. I figured we’d check out the surf scene and let loose a little. The past few days have been filled with surfing during the day and beach parties at night—a much-needed mini-vacation. Not going to lie; the beautiful women scattered all over the place aren’t terrible, either.
This surfing accident was a stupid mishap that threw a wrench into our plans. It was a gorgeous day, and the waves were epic. My friends and I had been surfing since nine a.m., but I wanted to go out one more time before we headed back in to get ready for the night. I felt the wave roll up behind me as I pushed off the board and rose to ride the wave in. The moment I stood, one leg slipped off the board while the other, unfortunately, remained fully planted. A sharp stab of pain shot through my ankle, and I knew something had happened. Tumbling, not so gracefully, into the water, I managed to make my way back to my board and paddled back to shore. I looked down at my ankle and saw the swelling set in, not to mention the lovely shades of blue and purple already streaked across my skin. After a quick call to my father, my friend Jameson helped me limp back to the Jeep and drove us to the ER.
I did not want to be in a hospital on my vacation. If anyone looked my way, they would have seen me pouting like a five-year-old who had just dropped their ice cream cone on the ground. It was, by far, the last place I wanted to be. Hoping to get the whole thing over with quickly, I checked into the registration area, gave them my name, and plopped down my insurance card. After the lady at the desk snapped an ID bracelet on my wrist, I hobbled back to the waiting room and dropped back down next to Jameson. Soon enough, the triage nurse called my name, and I gave him the details of my injury. He tossed me an ice pack and said someone would be with me soon. Being no stranger to the hospital scene, I knew I could be there for hours. Looking at the clock, I noticed it was seven p.m.
“Great, time for a change of shift,” I grumbled.
Jameson and I were reminiscing about the day's events laughing about our friends' antics at the beach, when I thought I heard someone call my name. He told me about a hot blond he had talked to earlier when I heard my name called the second time. I thanked the heavens above that this seemed to be moving along and said a quick prayer to the guy above that the rest of the night would be just as easy.
I shot my hand in the air to get the attention of whoever was calling me and said, “Yeah, that’s me.”
James tried to help me up, but I batted his hand away.
“I can get up myself, fucker. I’m not that injured,” I spat out.
James shook his head, clearly enjoying watching me struggle from the chair, but continued to assist me in getting to the door. Getting my balance, I turn around clumsily to see a knockout of a woman standing in front of me, holding a clipboard in her hand. Please let this be the woman who called my name.
I notice that she’s looking right at me. Like, she was really looking at me. And for a second, my male ego overshadows the pain in my ankle, and I wonder if she’s checking me out. I wouldn’t mind at all; this girl was smoking hot. Before I start to make my way to her, our eyes meet, and I’m mesmerized by her striking honey-colored eyes. I see them widen just a bit as I hold her stare. This girl is naturally beautiful. I am a tall guy, but this girl has some height to her. Maybe five foot ten and legs for days. Gorgeous eyes and soft, pink lips. Her scrubs hug her hips, and the matching fitted shirt is tucked in to show a slim waist. Not many scrubs are attractive and fitting, but this girl is the exception to the rule. Her long brown hair flows over her shoulder and down along her chest in loose waves. A stethoscope around her neck gives her away as my nurse.
