I notice her skin is tanned naturally. Very different from the spray-tanned girls in the city. I wonder if she prefers the outdoors. I realize a second too late that I’m still staring straight at her like a goon, and it’s just then that a soft blush spreads over her cheeks. She’s fucking perfect. I notice her name tag says Olivia Morales, RN. Olivia. I say it under my breath to see how it feels on my lips. Bringing my brain back to reality, I stumble forward, limping on my bad ankle. Pain or no pain, I’m getting a closer look.
“Do you need a wheelchair?” I hear her ask.
It just makes me laugh. There is no way that this amazing-looking creature will be pushing me around in a wheelchair like some kind of pussy. Nope, I’d rather struggle and limp my way along. Typical dude behavior, but I don’t care.
“No thanks, I can walk,” I manage to say as I limp forward.
I turn slightly to tell Jameson that this may take a bit. He is watching this interaction between us with amusement and shakes his head as he grabs my arm, leading me to the doors.
I hear her say something, and it quickly registers. “You can take your time with me.”
What the…did I just hear that correctly? I shoot up to look at her as she rambles off something and quickly ducks down the hallway.
“Just around the corner” is the last of what I caught her saying. Thank fuck for that because I can’t imagine my response.
“I’ll wait back out there,” I hear Jameson say as the door shuts him out into the waiting room.
We get to the appointed bay, and I stand there like an idiot waiting for instruction from this heavenly creature. She affects me as well. She goes to the cabinet, and I catch the faint smell of her hair as she quickly walks by. Coconut and vanilla. Delicious. She returns to me and almost jumps as she passes by. Do I reek of sweat, or does she think my ankle is that disgusting? Maybe she doesn’t find me attractive? No, I was given a different impression a few minutes ago. I usually have the opposite effect on women at work. All too often, I’m trying to walk by quickly before they can find a reason to sit next to me. I’ve lost count of the desperate attempts to get me to notice them. I am a single guy with an MD behind my name. I don’t mind being hit on, but the casual hookups are getting a bit old. As my dad likes to frequently remind me, my reputation has taken a bit of a hit over the years. But I’m not the relationship type. I have other goals right now, and they center around my fellowship program. Unfortunately, it also leaves zero room for other commitments.
She grabs a hospital gown and tries to give it to me to change into, but I know that I don’t need it. I mean, it’s just my ankle, so I give her a little grief and hand it back to her. When our hands touch for the briefest moments, I feel a pull toward her. It’s like a zinger that travels up my arm and shoots straight to my cock. Her eyes meet mine, and I can tell she wants to ask me something but decides against it. She agrees that I don’t have to change and turns around, but not after looking at me with yet another flushed face. I’d love nothing more than to pull her in close. Have her body touching mine. I wonder how she’d feel in my arms. I’m getting lost in my thoughts as the faint scent of her hair brings me back to reality. She rips her hand away as if she has been scorched by fire and goes to leave.
She quickly informed me that she would get me a pillow to elevate my leg and a fresh ice pack for my ankle. But she, just as quickly, takes back her offer. She tries to delegate this to a tech that is passing by. Oh no, you don’t, my little nurse. She’s not getting out of my sight for long. I make a playful pass at her reminding her that she said she would bring the items to me. I see the briefest upturn of her lip, but she’s trying her best not to be affected by my words. She said she would try and that someone would be in to take me down for an x-ray of my ankle. She gave me a quizzical look when I asked for a copy of the x-ray. I didn’t want to tell her I was a doctor, at least not yet. People always get weird when I mention it. Today, I am not Dr. Johnson, just a guy enjoying his spring break who just happened to fuck up his ankle. Well, I was enjoying it up until this happened. Although, I can’t say that. Luckily, she doesn’t ask, though. She just nods and walks out. I notice she has a bit of sway to her hips, and I let out a small appreciative growl. I want to take ownership of those hips. Not now, though. I’ll have to wait for my chance.
And boy, do I wait. I’m left on my own for at least another hour. Someone calls my name behind the drape. “Yeah, that’s me,” I responded quickly.
A middle-aged woman gets a wheelchair and checks my armband to confirm that it matches her order on a slip of paper. “Ankle slash foot x-ray?”
I look at the wheelchair. “Yeah, surfing injury today. I can walk through.”
She looks back at my ankle and then at me. Laugh lines encase her eyes, and she replies, “I am sure you can, but this will be faster if I take you in a wheelchair. We have to go to the x-ray department, which is all the way down the hall. If it is broken, then the ED doctor won’t be happy that I let you walk on it without crutches.”
Not wanting to be a pain in the ass, I agree and sit in the fucking chair.
As we’re rounding the corner, I see Olivia, my nurse. Great, she’ll love this. She has a massive smile on her face showing her perfect white teeth and displaying the most adorable glint in her eyes. It’s like looking at a kid throwing confetti in the air at a birthday party, kind of smiling.
“See you in a bit, Mr. Johnson.”
I see her biting her lip to stifle a laugh, all paid at my expense. Oh, dear Lord. What would be better is if she called me Dr. Johnson while wearing that outfit. That would be a fantasy I would like to role-play. She can call me Dr. Johnson when I’m balls deep inside her later. I smile back and give her a raise of my hand, allowing her this small laugh at my expense. For now, anyway, my little nurse. I’ll give her that satisfaction. Game fucking on, Olivia.
I hear my phone ding in my pocket, and I check the new message while I am being wheeled down the hall for my x-ray. Jameson sent me a GIF image of a hot nurse bending over. Cleavage is spilling over as she attempts to auscultate nothing but the air. Underneath the image is a question about getting her number. Something tells me that even if she knew I was a doctor, it wouldn’t impress her. To her, I am just a guy in my twenties. Little does she know this guy wants to ask her out. I start to wonder if this happens to her often. Do guys at work ask her out? Has a patient asked her out before? The possessiveness I feel begins making my heart rate escalate in anger. The thought of someone else hitting on her elicits a primal response involving me ripping someone's head off. I mean, I don’t know this woman or if she is involved with someone else. I already don’t care if she is because I know she will be mine, and it's only a question of when. There was no ring on her finger, and as tanned as she was, I know there never was. I need to find out more about her.
We get to the radiology department, and I’m placed on the x-ray table, where I lie flat. The freezing cold plates are held against my foot to get pictures from different angles. When they were done, I asked the radiology tech if I could have copies and let her know that my dad is an orthopedic sports medicine physician in Houston. She said she would have them for me and a radiology report per my request before I leave.
“You’re lucky you have a doctor in the family, Mr.”—she looks down at my chart—“Mr. Johnson.”
“You seem to know a lot about what’s going on here. Do you work in medicine too?”
I hesitate but figure I may as well tell the truth. “Yeah, I’m also an orthopedic surgeon specializing in trauma surgery. I’m almost done with my fellowship training and will start as a partner in my father’s group soon. You know, the whole father-son thing.”
It's a long shot, but since we’re being chatty, I could try and get more info on that attractive nurse of mine. “Hey, I was wondering about the nurse, Olivia, that’s taking care of me.”
She looks my way with one eyebrow raised. “Oh? What about Liv?”
I try to be nonchalant, but I can’t figure out a way to ask about her without being blatantly obvious. So she goes by Liv, huh? “I mean, do you know her? Has she worked here long?” I take a quick breath. “Is she involved with someone?”
She smiles and replies, “I’ve worked with Liv for a few years here. She started as a new graduate but worked as an ED tech while working through school. I don’t think she has a steady boyfriend but was seeing someone off and on.” She pauses to think for a second, drumming her fingers on the counter. “I think he’s in an architecture school in Houston. I’ve heard her mention him a time or two. You’re not the first patient to ask about her.” She raises her eyebrows and motions for me to get back in the wheelchair.
Pushing me out the door, she continues, “Unfortunately, she won’t be here long. She leaves in a couple of months after graduation. She is finishing up her four-year degree in nursing. She works nights and takes classes during the day. She’s been busy, but the girl is extremely driven.”
