I stopped mid-step, sneakers squeaking over the tiles. “Are you insane? He’s— I can’t just…”
The rest of my objection faded away as I realized the words sounded slightly less insane in my own head than they did when spoken aloud.
“No. That’s not happening.”
She pretended to scan her own chart as we walked, but I could see the mischievous glint in her eye. “You call it insane, I call it brilliant.”
“Stop it. Let me tell you about the goals that rained down in Enterprise Center.” I caught a whiff of antiseptic and sanitizer as we circled a bed, checking vitals. Although I couldn’t separate the energy of Mission Valley from the leftover buzz of that away game. Not yet.
Rosemary shook her head as we moved on to the next bed. “Instead of goals, tell me how I get onto surgical rotation. I mean, who do I have to… You know,convinceto let me into the OR?”
I snorted, making my way back out of the ward. “We’re not living inside a medical drama. There’s no sleeping your way into surgery.”
“Somebody should tell him.” She motioned her head stealthily in the direction of James Perot, a fourth-year surgical resident. Her gaze followed him from across the floor as if she were a shark tracking her prey. “He has no business being that dreamy in a lab coat.”
But my mind was too busy circling Landon’s last goal, and his smile, and the drinks we had after the game.
“Uh-huh,” I said absently, scribbling notes I wouldn’t be able to decipher later. “Totally agree.”
“Anyway, if you’re not gonna ask out the yummy resident, then maybe you should reconsider Landon.”
I almost dropped the chart. “Quit forcing me back into the dating game. I’m not ready for that level of chaos in my life.”
“What can I say? Misery loves company,” she said deadpan, and I couldn’t help laughing. My poor friend hadn’t had the best luck in the romance department.
Thankfully, the universe stepped in to save me from the direction this conversation was going in. Marcie popped up in the hallway, and her expression mirrored the relief I’d felt about being assigned to General.
“Nicole, you’re needed in Ward C.”
I nodded, and turned to Rosemary. “Lunch in the garden?”
“It’s a date,” she replied, quirking one eyebrow suggestively.
I waved her off, and got stuck into work for real. Landon and The Surge had taken up enough of my morning, and I needed to pull it together.
It wasn’t long before I’d slipped into the rhythm of General. Vitals, meds, pre-ops… the predictable cadence of the unit grounded me. But even as I moved, part of my brain was still stuck in Missouri, replaying every second with Landon, imagining what it would be like if this fan-girl infatuation actually became… something else.
Ward C had its own personality. Late morning light streamed through the blinds, that faint antiseptic hum, and the faintly sweet smell of hand lotion from the night shift still lingered on the counters. I liked it here. I liked knowing what was coming, what needed doing, who would gripe about the breakfast tray or forget to press the call button. It was comforting, in a way.
I paused by Mr. Delgado’s bed, trying not to startle him while he squinted at the tablet propped on his lap. The highlights of the Surge game flashed across the screen, but I didn’t need to see it to know the exact game and the exact moment in the game by nothing else but the commentary.
“Look at this,” he said, voice half raspy from age, “I don’t know how they pulled it off, but it looks like the Surge are finally finding their groove. Playoffs aren’t out of reach.”
I smiled, checking his vitals while also glancing at the screen. “You know what? I was actually at that game. Close enough to see the sweat on Landon’s face when he pulled off that last goal.” I couldn’t stop myself; the words slipped out before I even realized. “They’ve got what it takes. They just need to shuffle the lines a bit, let Landon cycle the left-wing rotation. Maybe switch up the neutral zone defense. McAvoy’s calling it too predictable right now. But I’m sure he’ll fix it the closer we get.”
Mr. Delgado’s eyes widened. “That’s some serious hockey talk for a nurse. You should be out there coaching them yourself.”
I laughed, shaking my head as I pulled the thermometer off the wall and tapped it against my wrist like a drum. “I’m just a fan. I love my job too much to switch scrubs for a whistle.”
“Still, you’ve got ideas. That shuffle you mentioned? Smart. Very smart.”
I paused for a second to adjust the pillow behind his shoulders, smirking despite myself. “Thanks. I have… opinions. Big opinions. But honestly? I like watching them, screaming at the guys from the stands. I’ll leave the real work on the ice to the professionals.”
My mind drifted for a fraction of a second, daydreaming about what it would be like if Landon were this impressed by me. Impressed enough to go on a date, maybe…
“Alright, Mr. Delgado, everything else looks good. Let’s keep this up, and we’ll have you cleared for a short walk around the hall this afternoon, okay?”
“I’ll do my best. And… uh, thanks for the insider scoop on the Surge. You’re something else.”
