by A. P. Watson
Jackson: Open up.
Did he mean metaphorically speaking? Because it was going to take a hell of a lot of whiskey for me to share my problems with the hot guy that I knew for less than a week.
Me: Open what up?
Jackson: The door.
I turned and stared at the white barricade, wishing I could see through the wood. Was Jackson seriously standing outside my front door? I grabbed my phone and cleared my throat. I wasn’t above screaming like a victim from a slasher movie. The door creaked when I cracked it open. A sliver of Jackson’s face came into view.
“Are you going to let me in or did I run all the way here for nothing?”
I pushed the door open, waiting as he crossed the threshold before locking it again. “You ran all the way here?”
“Mostly. It turned out to be a hell of a lot further than I thought so I got an Uber ten blocks back.”
“Oh.” I tiptoed to the kitchen, motioning for him to follow me. “Sit down and rest a bit.” I filled a glass with water and set it in front of him.
“Thanks.” He downed half the glass in a single gulp.
“So, what’s up?”
“Do you ever have one of those nights where, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to shut your brain off?”
I snickered, “all the time.”
“It drives me insane. I’m lying down, trying my best to fall asleep while my mind wanders from one train of thought to the other. It’s maddening. And then you’re awake at one in the morning, and you’re fucking thinking about dinosaurs because it was the last weird, random thought you had.”
“I know exactly how you feel. Working nights means sleep makes me her fucking bitch on the regular.”
“Maybe we should start a support group.”
“Isn’t that what we’re kind of doing right now? I mean, we might have some cookies stashed somewhere.” I shuffled through a few cabinets, searching for something edible.
“Actually, you got any peanut butter and jelly?”
“Yeah. Hold on, and I’ll make you a sandwich.” I finished making his sandwich and gave it to him with a glass of milk.
“Forcing me to take your advice from earlier?” he asked.
“It’s good advice,” I intoned.
“I know it is.” He pointed to the screen I’d paused when I let him inside. “What episode are you on?”
“Three.”
“You want to finish it?”
“Sure.” I plopped on the couch, pulling a blanket over my feet.
“If I’m bothering you, let me know. I still have some adrenaline pumping through my body, so I can always make it back to my place.”
“Actually, it’s nice to have company. Usually, when I’m staying up all night, I’m by myself.”
“Okay, good.”
He settled in beside me as I restarted the episode. As the episode ended and the credits rolled, I noticed he was sitting upright, his back as straight as an arrow.
“You know you can relax, right?” I asked.
“Yeah, but every time I try, my back sticks to the leather.”
“Come with me.” He followed me down the hall to the bathroom. “Shower and I’ll find something of Ryan’s for you to wear.” I handed him a towel, closing the door behind me. Jackson was the same height as Ryan, but his shoulders were slightly broader. Surely, they’d still be able to wear the same size clothing. I snuck past Terayn and Ryan’s bedroom door to the laundry closet. Luckily, Ryan still had some gym shorts lying on top of the dryer. I grabbed a pair and headed back to the bathroom. With the quietest knock, I placed a hand over my eyes and poked my head inside. “Don’t worry, I have my hand over my eyes, but I found a pair of shorts for you to try. I didn’t find any shirts though.”
“What about one of your T-shirts?”
“If you can fit into one of my shirts, I’ll jump off the roof,” I deadpanned.
“I was kidding! Besides, you’re 5’2”. There’s no way I’d ever fit into your clothes.” As he talked, I tried my hardest not to think about what was happening on the other side of my plum-colored shower curtain. “Your body wash smells really nice, by the way.”
“Touch my loofa, and you’re dead.” My threat didn’t even faze him one bit. Instead, he chuckled. “I’m placing the shorts by the sink. Finish your shower and meet me in the living room when you’re done.”
While he finished his shower, I changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top. I just sat on the couch when Jacks emerged from the bathroom. Gray gym shorts hung low around his hips. Every hard line of his body was on full display, and the sound of my jaw smacking the floor reverberated in my ears.
“I hung the towel over the side of the tub. I hope that’s okay.”
Snapping out of my daze, I returned my focus to the television. “Yeah, that’s fine,” I said. He collapsed next to me, his arms stretching across the back of the couch. “So, what time do you have to be up in the morning?”
“Seven.”
“Geez. That’s in five hours.”
“I know. I don’t think I’ve slept more than four hours a night for the past week.” He rubbed his hands over his face, yawning slightly.
“You have to be exhausted. Go lie down in my room and get some sleep. I’ll stay out here on the couch until you leave in the morning.”
“No way, I’m not kicking you out of your room,” he said with another yawn.
I shifted to face him. “There is a reason you’re not sleeping well. Talk to me about it.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Jacks, look at me.” When he obeyed my command, I placed my hands on either side of his face. I pressed my thumbs to his temples, gently massaging his skin. “Take a deep breath, okay?”
“Okay.”
I listened while he inhaled. “Now, exhale slowly,” I ordered.
“That feels nice.”
“Good,” I soothed. “Keep taking those deep breaths for me.”
“Okay.”
I massaged his skin, watching as tension melted from his muscles. “Talk to me, Jacks.”
“I’m stressed with work. Everything on this acquisition needs to be finalized soon and without any hiccups. It’s a huge account. I mean we’re talking millions and millions of dollars, and I guess the pressure is just getting to me on this one.”
“That sounds intense.”
“It is.”
“I know work is important to you, and you’re really good at your job, but you also have to take care of yourself. And that includes getting enough sleep,” I said, removing my hands from his face.
He rested his head against the couch cushions. “Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll jog back to my apartment.”
“You’re practically falling asleep as we speak.”
“I’m fine.”
I turned the television off and grabbed his hand. Quietly, I led him down the hall and to my room. He closed the door behind us, barely making a sound. “You can have the left side, and I’ll take the right.”
“What?” he asked.
“We’re lying down because you need some rest.”
“Oh,” he whispered. I slid under the covers and motioned for him to do the same. A small line of space existed between his side of the bed and mine. He waited a few moments before finally lying down. “Good night, Wren.”
“Night, Jacks.” Grabbing my headphones off the nightstand, I shoved the earbuds in and plugged the cord into my phone. I’d just put one of my favorite songs on repeat when Jacks reached across me to remove my right earbud.
“What are you listening to?”
“‘Talk Show Host.’”
He smiled at me and placed the earbud in his ear. “Radiohead. Nice.”
“I’ve got it on repeat, but I can switch it to shuffle.”
“Don’t bother. I love this song.”
“Me too.”
He made it through the song twice before falling asleep. I left the earbud in place
, barely daring to move for fear of ripping it out and waking him up. Jackson was exhausted. I knew all too well what that felt like, and there was no way I’d deprive him of rest. So, I listened to Radiohead and eventually, just before the sun came up, I fell asleep too.
My arm stretched across the bed instinctively the moment I woke up. It was as if my body remembered I didn’t go to bed alone. But as I expected, the left side of the bed was empty. When I checked the time on my phone, it was ten minutes till five p.m., and I had a new text message.
Jackson: Thanks for everything last night. Honestly, it’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in two months. I wanted to say bye before I left, but you were sound asleep.
I pushed out of bed and headed for the bathroom. I started the shower, allowing the water to heat up while I laid the towel Jackson had used last night by the sink.
Me: You’re welcome. I could tell you were exhausted, so I’m glad you were able to get some rest.
I hopped in the shower, quickly washing my hair and shaving my legs before shutting the water off. I dried myself off before starting on my makeup. By the time I finished and changed into my scrubs, my hair was almost dry. I twisted it into a fishtail braid and made my way to the kitchen.
Terayn sat at the bar, sipping a glass of water. “Hey!”
“Hey, Ter.”
“You have some serious explaining to do!”
I put on a fresh pot of coffee and made myself a bowl of cereal. “What are you talking about?”
Her hands flipped over the magazine she was reading, dramatically marking her spot. “I’m talking about Jackson creeping out of your bedroom in the wee hours of the morning!”
I took a bite of my breakfast, my brows knitting together. “When did you see him leave?”
“Just before seven.”
“You never get up that early.”
“I know! It’s like I could sense the sexy shenanigans happening in your room.”
“Okay, first of all, that’s kind of creepy. And second, nothing happened between us.”
“You’re right, that was kind of creepy.” Her arms folded across her chest. Apparently, she wasn’t buying my explanation. “He slept in your bed!”
“He jogged over here at like two in the morning. I let him shower and sleep here because he was exhausted and in no shape to run back to his apartment.” I poured some coffee into my daisy mug and slid onto the stool next to her. “Seriously, we watched an episode of The X-Files, and then we got in my bed and listened to Radiohead until we both fell asleep. That’s it.”
“Damn. I was hoping you guys had sex.”
“I told you, we’re not like that.”
“I know, but I feel like there is something more between you two.”
“Believe me, if he wanted to sleep together, we would’ve done it already. He’s a really nice guy, and we get along perfectly. I’m not going to fuck that up because my vagina needs a little TLC.”
“I get what you mean.”
“Not to mention, it’d be good for me to trust a guy who isn’t Sean or Ryan.”
“True.”
“I know you and Ryan want the two of us to get together, but it’s not going to happen. We’re both cool with just being friends.”
“As long as you’re happy.”
I finished the rest of my cereal and smiled at her. “I am.”
“Then that’s all I care about.”
“Have you started working on the painting for my room yet?” My room used to be Terayn’s art studio, but they converted it into another bedroom when I agreed to move in. At first, I felt guilty she had to sacrifice her studio for me, but when I told her I would move in, she went out the same day and bought a bed for my room. She wanted me here as much as I did.
“Not yet. I was planning on starting it tonight.”
“I can’t wait to see it! You’re such a talented artist.”
“Starving artist is more like it.”
“But you have your job at the gallery.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just every day I go to the gallery, I see all this art on display, and it makes me wish my work could be featured there.”
“Your paintings are incredible. Have you tried getting them displayed in your gallery or any others?”
“I’ve been turned away by a few, but I haven’t approached the manager at my gallery yet.”
“You should! They’d be lucky to feature your work.”
She gave me a quick hug. “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”
“Anytime.”
I grabbed my purse, stethoscope, name badge, penlight, and the lunch I packed last night. Then, I called for a cab to pick me up, and before I knew it, I was walking into the University of Chicago Medical Center. It had the same sterile smell like any other hospital I’d been in. Working here would be the same as it was in Tennessee—the only difference would be everyone’s accents. I took the elevator up to the first floor and found my way to the intensive care unit.
The moment I stepped through the automatic doors, my ears were met with the sounds of beeping IV poles, cardiac monitors, and call bells. One second in and this place was already just like home. I ditched my lunch and purse in an empty locker in the break room and headed back out to the nurses’ station.
I waved and smiled as I approached the first person in scrubs I laid eyes on. “Hi, my name is Wren, and I’m supposed to be shadowing someone tonight.”
The older woman with short gray hair smiled at me. “We’ve been expecting you. You’re going to be working with Nate tonight. He’s over there, just outside room 21.”
“Thank you.” There were ten different patient rooms all lined in a semi-circle around the nurses’ station. I made my way past a few computers, heading in Nate’s direction. “Nate?”
“Yeah, can I help you?” His short, sandy hair was dotted with streaks of blue, and the color almost matched his royal-colored scrubs.
“I’m Wren. I’m supposed to be working with you tonight.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here! We’ve got a wild patient in 21. He’s currently on a couple of different medications to help sedate him. But despite that and his scheduled pain medicine, he’s still trying to rip out his breathing tube.”
“Does he need the tube?”
“Yeah, he pulled it out two nights ago, and we had to put it back down. We’ve had him in wrist restraints, but he has a known history of IV drug use. This latest go around, he took heroin laced with fentanyl.”
“Hmm.” With the patient’s history of drug use, it was no wonder he was so difficult to sedate. “Would the doctor order a paralytic for the patient?”
“I like the way you think. We’re going to get along just fine!”
I laughed, following him to the desk. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Just listen to that sweet accent. I bet you have more guys hovering around you than you know what to do with.”
I grabbed the papers he handed me and took a seat next to him. “I wish that were the case.”
He looked at me and sighed heavily. “Men are dicks . . . I should know, I’ve dated my fair share of them, but you know the old saying—can’t live with them and can’t live without them.”
“You’re preaching to the choir.”
Nate and I got the reports for the two patients we would be caring for all night, and before I knew it, twelve hours flew by in the blink of an eye.
chapter seven
you’ve got a hold
AFTER TWO HECTIC NIGHTS of work, Wednesday morning didn’t come soon enough. The wild patient Nate and I had been caring for the past two nights certainly proved to be a handful. It took both of us running around like chickens with our heads cut off to keep the man from ripping out his breathing tube. Nate was awesome though. Sometimes you meet a person and instantly click with them. In my experience, it had only happened when I met Terayn and then Ryan, but in less than two weeks, I clicked with Jackson and Nate. Any lingering fears about my decision to move t
o Chicago disappeared. Too bad neither of them could help me with my sexual dry spell though.
I barely managed to shower and slide into bed when my phone rang. It was 8:00 a.m. and I was exhausted, so I answered before checking to see who was calling.
“Hello.”
“Did I wake you up?” Jackson’s voice filled my ears.
“No, I just got in bed.”
“I’m sure you’re exhausted. I should’ve sent you a text instead of calling.”
“It’s cool,” I yawned heavily. “So, what’s up?”
“Do you have plans for tonight?”
“No, why?” I asked.
“Will you go somewhere with me?”
“Only if you plan on feeding me first.”
His laughter traveled through my phone, the sound as smooth as silk. “I believe I can make that happen.”
“What time do I need to be ready?”
“Five. I’ll pick you up at your place.”
“Okay. On a scale of one to ten, how fancy do I need to be dressed?”
“Wear whatever you want. You always look nice,” he answered.
“I swear if you show up to my house in a tux, I’m going to punch you.”
“Consider me warned.” He paused for a moment, silence overtaking our conversation. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay.”
I wasn’t sure if I hung up or not, because the second he ordered me to rest, my eyes closed and didn’t open again until the brash sound of my alarm shocked me awake.
I only had an hour to get ready until Jackson would be here to pick me up. I shoved a banana into my mouth and rushed to the bathroom. I curled my hair, allowing the strands to hang over my shoulders in soft waves. Because I wasn’t sure what we would be doing, I opted for winged liner and plum lipstick. My outfit consisted of a white crop top and a high-waisted skirt covered in roses the same color as my lipstick. Stepping into a pair of platform wedges, I retrieved a pair of silver hoop earrings and slid on my bracelet. The doorbell rang just as I switched my debit card and driver’s license to a black clutch.
“Coming!” I hurried to the other side of the living room and flung the door open.