There’s a steady ticking like the beat of my pulse inside my head but it’s coming from the wall. 4:03, the standard clock reads. I should just give up sleep at this point. It hasn’t mattered how deep I slump into this fold-out metal chair; it’s the opposite of comfortable. Now I’ll live with a pounding headache, a ramshackle back, and an attention span in desperate need of a polar plunge.We are no longer eighteen, my body reminds me.
I push up with my heels to straighten in the chair. It squeakswith the transfer of my weight and I jolt my head to the side. Reed only stirs. His lips are a warm pink now, his cheeks too. I run a hand across his forehead. Cool and dry. A far cry from the clammy, pale sheet of yesterday’s dehydrated skin. I check his IV next. The electrolytes have emptied into his veins in a steady drip.
I sigh in relief. He’s made it through the worst part. Which is a good thing because I’m in desperate need of a shower.
As if on cue, a clump of matted hair drops in front of my eyes. I wedge the cluster into my braid to get it to stay back. The full moon casts a blue hue against everything it touches. The gurney, the floor, my walking path all lit in a soft glow that guides me out of the medic wing.
The windowless hallway is another story. A black hole of silence.
Clip clop, clip clop. The percussion instruments I call shower shoes slap against the wood floor. I slow to a scoot and paw at the wall to guide me, trying to remember which door leads to the women’s showers.
My fingertips brush over the letters R-E-S and my brain fills in the rest of the word.
Made it. With a towel slung over my shoulder and a fresh uniform draped over my arm, I push open the door.
A motion light flicks on. It’s dim but brighter than the hallway. I set my belongings next to a porcelain sink and twist the cap off a tube of Crest. Seconds later, spicy mint explodes on my tongue and I close my eyes, pretending it’s an Andes chocolate to curb the rumbling in my stomach. Skipping dinner is catching up with me.
The hunger fuels my pace as I strip off yesterday’s clothes. I leave them in a dirty heap outside the closest tile stall, then dive into the first of four empty showers and yank the curtain shut. Warm steam envelops me in the cramped space within seconds.I spend very little time lathering and rinsing my hair and body before shutting off the water.
I whip open the microfiber drape and goose bumps pebble on the surface of my skin. I claw through yesterday’s work clothes looking for…I dropped my towel by the sink.
“It’s cold, it’s cold, it’s cold,” I chant to myself in a naked prance to retrieve it.Must make it back to the warm box.Scooping up my uniform from where I left it too, I swivel for the shower.
Slap.
A warm body smacks into my bare skin, the hit so hard that I lose my grip on everything I’m carrying. A button-down shirt, tactical pants, underwear, and a lacy white bra all fall in a pile at my feet.
Reed’s eyes bug out of his head as I scramble to cover the surface area of Texas with two limbs. I might as well be using dime-sized Band-Aids.
“What are you doing in here?” I swivel from side to side in a desperate ploy to get my stuff off the floor without dropping one of my arms.
“This is the men’s bathroom. What areyoudoing in here?” he asks. His eyes troll the ceiling.
Men’sbathroom? What is he…the dark hallway, the fumbling hands, the braille reading… it’s all coming back to me.
“It was closer,” I argue. I’m sure as hell not going to tell him that, for all I knew, Iwasin the women’s restroom. I would sooner tell him I was worried about being away from him for too long than admit the truth. “I didn’t think anyone would be up yet! Turn around!” I demand.
He’s quick to pivot toward the opposite wall. With his back to me, I gather my stuff, making a break for the bathroom stall. I fumble around for an imaginary lock on a shower curtain as if he’ll barge in here after me.
The shudder of an exhale is the only sound I hear behind the thin fabric separating us.
“Dammit, Red. What am I going to do now? Picture my grandmother all day?”
I dry my body with the damn towel that got me in this situation and cram my foot into one pant leg, hopping to pull them on. If Reed’s awake, it means everyone else probably is too. Now the whole crew is going to know I showered in here.
“I’ll tell you what you’re going to do.” I grunt as I work the pants up and button them at the waist. It takes even less time fastening the four buttons on the front of my top at the pace I’m moving. “You’re going to monitor that door so I can sneak back out of here, and then you’re going to forget this ever happened.”
I’m so focused on shoving all of my things in my arms that I forget Reed is my patient. How on earth did he remove that IV on his own? Just savagely rip it out of his arm?
I yank the curtain back and sweep the floor for my belongings. Somehow it feels like I’m hauling out more than I brought in here when all I did was exchange one set of clothing for another. I tiptoe toward the door as if Reed didn’t hear the woosh of the shower curtain or the buzz of my toothbrush when I accidentally hit the ON button while swiping it from the sink. He’s still doing what I asked, stalling by the door. But I have to face him now.
When we make eye contact for the first time, I can’t help but blush a little. He saweverypart of me. Which suddenly feels very unfair. Usually when you get naked with a guy for the first time, it’s because you both chose to. Not because you’re flocking around a men’s bathroom in a naked parade.
Reed’s wide shoulders are taking up most of the exit space. I’ll have to push past him to get outside. But as my pants brush his leg, he snatches me by the hips and presses me against the wall. I yelp and lift my eyes to his face as helets the door fall shut, closing us in the bathroom alone together.
“I can’t do that.”
Heat soaks through my skin and seeps from the place where he’s touching me to my entire body.
