I didn’t expect that much info, but I am grateful for the little window into her life. “So she’s leaving here, huh?” I say more to myself than anyone. Disappointment rushes through me. I don’t live here, so it would never work anyway, I think, trying to reason with my unreasonable brain. “Do you know where she’s going?”
She looks at me with the slyest of smiles. “Yeah, I do, actually. She’s going to NP school in Houston. Isn’t that where you live?”
I turn my head back quickly and smile my biggest smile at this clever woman. “Why yes, it is.”
I know. That’s why I gave you the extended version of an answer to your question. With the information the radiology tech gave me, I can’t help but feel this was part of another plan. Like I was supposed to meet this woman. I am more determined than ever to make her mine.
ChapterThree
Liv
After an onslaught of patients,I’m finally catching up on my charts. I glance up at the clock and see it’s almost eleven now. I quickly make a mental list of what needs to get done… 1- Call transport to get Mrs. Herr in bay ten up to her room. 2- Check the labs on the patient in bay five. 3 - Check in on Dax in bay eight. I refresh my computer screen and see that his x-rays are back. Since ETA on the transport for Mrs. Herr is thirty minutes, I’ll bump a handsome surfer guy with a beautiful body up on my list.
I make my way over to his bay, thinking about his broad swimmer’s shoulders and deliciously tanned skin. Not that I noticed. Okay, of course, I saw. How could I NOT have noticed? Gosh, even his name is hot. I tell myself it’s all part of my job—observing the patient from head to toe is one of the first steps in assessing a patient. Although, I don’t think drooling over a patient was covered in nursing school. Not to mention my on-again-off-again boyfriend wouldn’t exactly appreciate the ogling I’ve been doing.
Before I can get to his room, the x-ray tech makes her way to me with a little grin on her face. “Well, Liv, that handsome young man was asking about you. Wanted to know if you were single.” I looked at her with surprise as she handed me some papers and continued. “He asked for copies of his x-rays to give to his dad, an orthopedic surgeon in Houston. Healsoinformed me that he’s a doctor there as well.”
Did he ask about me?My stomach did a little flip as the information ran through my brain. But the way he looked at me. I thought he might have found me attractive, but I didn’t know he would be so bold as to ask if I was single. And a doctor? I guess it isn’t that surprising, given he seemed to have medical knowledge. He’s not too much older than me. He didn’t even mention it. I take a deep breath to calm down my racing brain. All of a sudden, I find myself not wanting him to leave.
I hear his voice behind the curtain, mumbling something I can’t make out. “Mr. Johnson?” I call out hesitantly before slowly pulling back the curtain. “I have your discharge paperwork ready.”
I peer in and see he’s lying on the stretcher with his ankle on a pillow. One hand is behind his head, and the other is struggling with the TV remote. That’s right. I may have placed him in a better room, even if it was the overflow room we frequently use when there are too many patients in the ER. Before I take another step, my breath hitches in my throat. His shirt has risen up his stomach showing his rock-hard abs peeking out from the bottom. The V-cut pointing to the apparent bulge inside his board shorts is so flawless I can’t help but stare. Yep, the aponeurosis of the external oblique muscles that women since the dawn of time have swoon over. Then I swear I see his cock twitch, making me rip my eyes away as my face heats with embarrassment.
“Olivia?” he says, clearly enjoying my moment of temporary insanity.
I jerk my head upward and see him swing his legs over the stretcher while maintaining his eyes locked on mine. How could one look make me feel devoured and consumed without a single touch?
“Am I ready to go?”
My face remains flushed as I bring my eyes to his paperwork trying to stay professional. My brain says focus, but my body is ready to jump up and leave with him. Particularly when I realize he’s still freaking staring at me. My heart is going at least a hundred and fifty beats per minute, and my breathing begins to quicken. I think he’s noticing and liking that he has this effect on me because when I glance up, I see a brilliant smile plastered across his face.
A heartbeat passes, and my mind is flooded with images of naked bodies, crumbled sheets, and waking up to that smile in the morning.
What is wrong with me? These thoughts are not appropriate. But I’m unsure how to handle it as this has never happened before with a patient. And all of a sudden, it’s way too hot in here. I must be reading way too many romance novels—my guilty pleasure when I am not studying or working.
I regained some semblance of normalcy and handed over the x-rays and wet-read report he requested from the radiologist. “The preliminary reading report shows no fracture. The injury is likely just a sprain. But it can be quite uncomfortable and take weeks to return to a baseline level of functioning.” The following words roll off my tongue since I give every patient instructions when they leave the ED. “Mr. Johnson, if your symptoms worsen, you experience increased pain or swelling, or if you develop a fever, please return, and we will see you again.”
He nods in understanding. I see a glint of humor in his eye.
I can’t hold back even though I know the answer to this question. “Are you in the medical field? You seem to know much of what’s going on.” I know I put him on the spot, but I’m curious to see if he’s honest. He looks at me with a conflicting expression.
“My father is a sports medicine physician. He insisted I get a copy of the report for him to look at.”
I wait for him to tell me that he is also a doctor, but that information never comes. He just continues to stare at me as if he wants to ask me something but doesn’t know how to go about it.
I hear his phone ding. He apologizes as he types out a quick text reply. I stand there, starting to walk away, but the curtain moves before I can pull it back. When I called his name in the waiting room hours ago, the same guy with him stepped through and extended his hand to me.
“Hi Liv, I’m Jameson, Dax’s friend. Is he ready to go?”
I shake his hand and look back at Dax with a questioning look. How the hell did his friend know my name unless they had been texting about me? What the fuck is happening here? I look down at my nametag, and it is flipped backward. Yep, without a doubt, they were talking about me.
Jameson continued not waiting for a reply. “So… are you planning to go to the beach tomorrow? We were wondering, since you live here, what the best mile marker is to go to? I mean, a local person would be the best one to ask.”
My brain short circuits once again, and before I can answer, he boldly asks, “Where doyouplan on being tomorrow when you go?”
I look between the two men and see the glimmer in Jameson’s eye after the onslaught of multiple questions. Dax just continues to stare at me, waiting for me to speak.
“Um, we usually go to the mile marker by the pier, number 228. You can’t miss it, and yeah, I plan on being there tomorrow. I have friends back from college. They won’t take no for an answer. I need to finish this shift so I can get home and crash. I hope I can get enough sleep. They’re picking me up around noon. I don’t think I have a choice. I do need the relaxation, to be honest.” Why am I rambling? Please, God, please make this verbal diarrhea just stop. I am such a spaz.
