Dr. Park moves beside the bed, calm as ever, giving instructions to the nurse in short, clipped sentences before turning back to me.
“Doctor Moreno’s already in the OR,” she says. “We’re just waiting on your final checks.”
Right. The specialist surgeon I’ve met once in the last forty-eight hours. The one with thirty years of ortho under his belt and a reputation for rebuilding athletes’ knees like it’s nothing. I trust him, I do.
But somehow, I trust Dr. Park more. She’s the one I’ve seen the most, the one who explains things without softening the blow.
The one who handed me a sterile bag for my dick jewelry like it was just another Tuesday, and stifled a laugh when I grumbled about it.
She steps away, voice low as she runs through my stats with the anesthetist. I wonder if she’s scared too, as scared as I am. But her voice is clear and precise.
My eyes fall to her hands, and I watch them for a second.
Steady as hell.
Chapter two
Hot doctor real, or hallucination real?
Carina
“Apparently, it’s called a ladder,” someone whispers behind me. “Like a vertical…situation.”
“Three separate barbells?”
“On the underside. I googled.”
“No wonder he’s a goalie. Zero fear of pain.”
I stare at the computer screen in front of me, wondering how much of my surgical training was meant to prepare me for this exact moment—overhearing the entire post-op nursing team discuss Reid Hutchison’s dick piercings.
The cursor blinks on his file, which I still haven’t submitted yet.
“I was the one who had to bag them,” I say flatly, not looking up. “They’re not that impressive.”
“They are when you feel theminside you,” someone murmurs.
There’s a pause, followed by muffled snickering.
“Elodie,” I add, keeping my eyes on the computer screen, “if you’re participating in this, I will personally reassign you to hemorrhoid checks for the next two weeks.”
My favorite scrub nurse appears just inside my peripheral vision, totally unrepentant as the rest of the posse disappear. “I wasn’t saying anything!”
I glance sideways at her. “Your whole face says otherwise.”
“I was simply reacting to the fact that you, Dr. Carina Park, extracted jewelry from a very—allegedly— well-endowed man’s groin.”
“You’re not funny. And I didn’t extract them, he did.” I click ‘submit’ on the post-op summary and swivel in my seat to face her. “And I encouraged him to do that, so that youvultureswouldn’t get to do it while he was under.”
“Tell that to the nurse who just added ‘penis piercings x3—returned to patient’s care’ into the record and then asked if he needed assistance.”
“Elodie.”
“I’m just saying, you could’ve been a legend.”
I sigh loudly and swivel back to my computer. Reid Hutchison’s chart is still open on my second screen.
Vitals: Strong. No bleeding. No complications.
