by Sophia Henry
Suddenly, someone touches my elbow and a brusque voice says, “Is everything okay?”
I lift my eyes to the tall man hovering over me. Luke Daniels. What the hell is Luke doing here? In Jack Dellinger’s hospital room?
“Summer’s in labor,” I manage to squeak, remembering that my coworker is about to have a baby.
My heart jackrabbits in my chest, revved by surprise that the ridiculously attractive hockey player I had a one-night stand with is standing in front of me. My gaze is immediately drawn to those full lips that have kissed every inch of my skin first and the thick, dark hair I loved to grab onto next. Though his eyes are especially dreamy, it’s his rough, scratchy voice that makes me want to drag him into a utility closet for some seven-minutes-in-heaven action.
Luke’s eyes widen and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He looks completely bewildered as he turns his attention to Summer. I know he wants to help, but he seems to be frozen. Can’t blame him.
“Hot damn!” Tonya yells, running into the room bumping Luke to the side with a clean hip check to move him out of the way. “Today was my day. Pay up, ladies!”
Summer laughs and shakes her head. “Before you collect your winnings, can you please grab my phone so I can call Dan?”
I raise my hand quickly. “I’m on it.”
Before I can take a step, Luke grabs my elbow again. His touch causes a shiver to move up my spine. He leans in, his lips almost brushing my ear as he says, “Shouldn’t we be rushing her somewhere?”
“She’s okay,” I assure him with a smile. “One of us will get her to labor and delivery.”
Luke watches with concern as Summer waddles out of the room. “How are you so calm? I feel like I’m going to puke.”
I put my hand on his shoulder, which brings his attention back to me. “She’s completely fine. I promise. Couldn’t have happened around more knowledgeable people. Well, except actual labor nurses,” I quip. It’s a lame healthcare professional joke, but Luke smiles as well.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Then he looks down at my pants and shoes. “Can I get you a towel or something?”
Fire rushes to my cheeks. His question takes my mind back to this weekend, being sprawled out on his bed with my stomach covered in his come.
By the way Luke’s expression changes from worry to disgust, I doubt his question triggered the same memory. Which makes me want to flee.
“No. Thanks,” I stammer, shuffling backward out of the room to retrieve Summer’s phone as I’d promised. “I’m gonna get Harry to clean that up. And, um, hightail it to the ladies’.”
I nod toward the door before spinning around to focus on my mission. Reaching over the counter, I pluck Summer’s cell off the desk and take it to the bathroom. Before I enter, I realize that rinsing the bottom of my pants isn’t going to do any good. I should have gone to my locker to get a new pair first. But if I turn around, I may run into Luke again and it will be even more apparent that seeing him here has me flustered.
“Yo, Summer!” I say as I enter the bathroom. “I have your phone.”
Summer and Tonya are standing at the sink washing their hands. “Thanks, Bree,” she says. I hang on to it while she dries her hands, then pass it over. “Oh, no! Look at your scrubs! Do you have another pair?”
“Yeah, I’m good. I always keep a couple clean sets in my locker.”
“Real stories of the oncology ward,” Tonya jokes. Summer and I both laugh and nod.
Being covered in bodily fluids isn’t new for me, so I’m not that concerned. We administer to cancer patients, and the reality is that we never know when we’ll get puked on. Though I can honestly say, today’s amniotic fluid is a first for me.
While Summer calls her husband, I pull a few paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and bend down to wipe off my shoes.
“Throw some glitter on that shit and get back to work!” Tonya teases me.
“Do you have any?” I ask. “The kids would get a kick out of me leaving a trail of pixie dust through their rooms and the halls.”
“Harry wouldn’t. He would be straight pissed.”
She’s right. It would not be awesome for Harry, the janitor on duty, to clean up. And I’d never make him. Glitter is the herpes of craft supplies. You think it’s gone, then it pops up randomly because it’s impossible to get rid of.
“And he’d know it was the new girl you guys call Tinkerbell and I’d be banished back to Cali.” I toss the paper towel into the garbage and move to a sink to wash my hands.
“We’re not ready to banish you yet, Tinkerbell. Neither is Luke Daniels,” Summer says.
“I know that’s right!” Tonya agrees with a whoop.
“What?” I ask, looking at them in the mirror.
“Luke sure rushed to your side fast, didn’t he?” Tonya asks. “Old boy didn’t give a damn about the pregnant lady.”
“I actually think he elbowed me out of the way trying to get to Bree,” Summer continues the teasing.
Warmth rushes to my cheeks as I pull paper towels from the dispenser again. There was no way they could know that Luke and I hooked up last weekend. I hadn’t even told Mindy. “You two are completely mental. Did anyone call L and D?” I ask in an attempt to change the subject to the more important matter at hand: Summer’s baby. Labor and delivery should be told that they have one of their own coming in.
Tonya holds the door open for us.
“She’s changing the subject,” Summer says as she slips back into the hallway. I follow behind her. “You know what that means.”
“Yes. It means I’m concerned about you.” I lead the charge to the nurse’s station. Time to get back to my patients, not admit that I fucked Luke. Multiple times.
Here I am, thousands of miles away from home and everything normal, lusting over another freaking hockey player. Like many women before me, I’m sure, being near Luke makes me want to fall to my knees in front of him. Though I’m not looking for a relationship during my short time in Charlotte, seeing him again makes me realize I wouldn’t be opposed to an ongoing booty call. It’s all hockey players really have to give, anyway.
Another thing I’m not going to admit to Tonya and Summer. I don’t want the rumor mill to start during my second week here.
Instead of sticking around for more ribbing from the girls, I let Tonya help Summer and get back to work, realizing I’ll have to change my scrubs later.
An hour later, as I’m passing Jack Dellinger’s room again, Luke steps into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him. He reaches out and places his hand on my forearm. “How’s Summer?”
“Good. She’s already been admitted. Baby should be here within twenty-four hours,” I say, trying to ignore the rush of excitement from his touch. Looking at his long, thin fingers on my skin reminds me of when they were in me—and how talented he is with them.
“That’s awesome. Guess this was the best place for that to happen, eh?” A thicker accent came out with the “eh” and it made me smile. Though I don’t know much about Luke or his background, I can tell he’s a Canadian boy.
“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” he says.
“It never really came up,” I respond. From our conversation on Saturday, he knew I was a nurse, but that’s it. We didn’t get into too much other than that. “You are the last person I ever expected to see here,” I say.
“I volunteer on this floor every week.”
My stomach flips at the thought of seeing him on a weekly basis.
I nod in response. He’s already got my attention, so his hand still resting on my arm has me at a loss for words.
“You never changed your pants.” Luke nods toward my scrubs.
“Excuse me?” I ask, as heat rushes to my face. How does he know? My pants are almost dry.
Luke’s lips slide into a smile. “A pregnant woman’s water broke on you. I thought you were going to change your pants.”
“How do you know I didn’t?” I
ask, trying to get the upper hand back.
“I don’t,” he says quickly. “I just noticed that they’re the same color.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t pay so much attention to my pants, Luke,” I tease him.
“Can’t help it. Your ass looks phenomenal in scrubs. And I know it looks even better without them.”
His comment leaves me momentarily speechless. I’m not shy, but I didn’t expect him to bring up our tryst in casual conversation. “Are you saying you’d like to hang out again?” I ask.
Luke takes a step closer to me and I’m suddenly hyperaware of his presence. Though his chest is covered by a crisp button-down shirt, I can still remember the fantastic artwork over every rock-hard curve. But I’m also hyperaware that we’re standing in the hallway of the hospital where I just began working. The girls had already teased me about Luke; I didn’t need them to see this interaction and have people start talking. And I certainly don’t want to be known as the nurse who screws the volunteers. I’m not the type of person who gets off on creating drama in the workplace.
He leans in and whispers, “I’m saying I want to fuck you again.”
My breath speeds up and the thought of having his cock in my mouth again flashes through my mind. Instead, I push that thought away and plaster a professional smile on my face. “We can definitely arrange that, Luke.” Then I lower my voice and say, “I’ll text you.”
“Now how can I count on that?” he asks. “You never responded when I sent you a message.”
That catches me off guard. It’s a rare occasion when I’m so flustered that I can’t come up with a witty response. “I’ll text you,” I repeat firmly.
“Talk to you soon, Bree,” Luke whispers before he turns around.
On my way to see my next patient, I notice Luke stop to talk to two guys standing near the nurse’s station. I wonder if they’re hockey-player volunteers, too. I’ll have to ask Tonya once the pink flush leaves my cheeks. She isn’t a quiet person, so if she saw me blushing around Luke, she’d know something was going on between us—or that I want something to go on between us.
Running into Luke made me giddy as a teenage girl. At the risk of sounding juvenile, I’m looking forward to all the future flirting opportunities. Nothing wrong with some sexy banter as long as we keep it on the down low.
Maybe my assignment in this sleepy little town won’t be so boring and uneventful after all.
Chapter 7
Luke
The first message Bree ever sends me comes in at ten thirty the night after I ran into her at the hospital. I have to admit, I’m excited to hear from her. I’d never tell the guys that I’ve been waiting impatiently for this girl to text me. That’s definite grounds for stripping me of my man card.
Bree: Ready for rapid fire question time?
Me: So I guess we only text on your terms.
Bree: Rapid fire questions. Yes or no?
Me: Yes.
Bree: Pancakes or Waffles?
T-Rex or Raptor?
What’s the first thing you notice about a girl?
Are you a clean freak?
Ever been arrested?
I chuckle to myself as I read the random array of questions. Then I fluff my pillow, lie back, and start typing my responses.
Me: Eggs
T-Rex (Despite the short arms)
Physical: Legs. Non-Physical: Sense of humor
Not a clean freak, but I am a clean person.
Yes
I’d barely hit send when my phone blows up with the question I knew was coming after I said yes to being arrested.
Bree: You were arrested?? For what??
Me: I was accused of DUI.
Silence.
Me: I was later acquitted BY THE WAY.
Bree: I wasn’t judging.
Me: You were totally judging.
Bree: Ready for more?
Me: Hit me.
Bree: Favorite place to eat in Charlotte?
What do you sing in the shower?
Biggest pet peeve?
Any special talents?
Britney or Christina?
Me: The Cowfish
I don’t.
Tardiness
I’m good with my tongue.
Britney
Bree: Nice answer with Britney.
Me: Those abs tho.
Bree: Right?? Damn girl!
The randomness of her questions cracks me up. Britney or Cristina? Who asks about such irrelevant pop stars?
Me: What else you got? I’m warmed up and feeling good.
Bree: Favorite movie?
Who would you rather fuck: Hillary Clinton or Queen Elizabeth II?
Do you have a good relationship with your mom?
Lions, Tigers, or Bears?
Eminem or Beastie Boys?
Me: Scarface
Hillary
I did. That’s a topic for an in-person conversation.
Lions and Tigers. Fuck the Bears.
Impossible to choose.
Coming up with a non-dickbag-sounding answer to the mom question takes me the longest, because I know the underlying meaning when girls ask about a guy’s relationship with his mom. In theory, how a guy treats his mom usually says a lot about how he’s going to treat a woman he dates. I’m an asshole if I say no, and a liar if I say yes.
Again, the complete randomness of her questions makes me laugh. I love that it doesn’t follow the normal type of text conversations with chicks. Which—for me—are either mind-numbingly boring (“How was your day?” “Have you been to that new sushi restaurant yet?”) or all about fucking (“I can’t wait to have your long, thick cock in me again!” Eggplant emoticon. Winky-face emoticon).
Bree: Hillary was a surprise.
Me: You thought I’d rather have sex with a 90-year-old woman??
Bree: Seemed like a better choice to me. Old girl has skillz.
Me: Are you drunk?
Bree: Not at all. Quite sober, actually.
Me: You are the funniest girl.
Bree: You’re not kidding about being good with your tongue.
Me: Did this conversation just get x-rated?
Bree: Yes.
Me: I’m cool with that.
What are you wearing?
Bree: Nothing
Me: Liar
Bree: Come over and find out.
My phone slips from my grasp, bouncing off my chest and onto the bed beside me. Bree’s teasing is going to have me jacking off five seconds after our conversation ends. But I don’t want it to stop. I enjoy the banter, the flirting, and her ridiculous questions. Though I’m seconds from jumping out of bed and sprinting to her place to call her bluff.
Me: You really want me to?
Bree: Yes.
Before I can text back, another message pops up.
Bree: How kinky are you, Luke?
Jesus. My dick swells under the comforter.
Me: Oh, sweetheart, you don’t want me to answer that.
Bree: Yes. I do.
Me: You surprise me, Bree.
Bree: Why? Because I ask questions about sex?
Me: Yes. Most girls don’t want to hear the answers to half the questions they ask.
Bree: Bahahahahaha! Then why would we ask?
Me: I don’t know. To get a rise out of us?
Bree: I see what you did there. ;)
I reread my text and realize the double entendre in my word choice. I hadn’t even meant it that way, but it fits. And now I look clever, which is always a bonus when talking to a smart girl with a professional career. I love how quick she is.
Bree: Are you against hooking up with the same girl twice?
Me: Is this a trick question?
Bree: No. Why?
Me: Are you saying you wanna hook up again?
Bree: Yes.
Me: When?
Bree: Now.
Me: You want me to come over?
Bree: Yes.
Me: So this is just a boot
y call?
Bree: Yup.
I chuckle to myself at her unabashed honesty. Though it sounds like any other puck bunny trying to get closer to me, I don’t think Bree is like that. Maybe because we actually had a real, semi-deep conversation the other day. It wasn’t about my money or being a hockey player. Still, I can’t keep the nagging feeling out of my head. She has that hippie-chic vibe. Maybe she’s just better at hiding her true intentions than the slutted-up girls that want me to take them home from bars. Usually they start that way, then get clingy or needy.
Me: What’s your address?
After seeing Bree at the hospital interacting with her coworkers and patients, I was turned on, but it also made me want to get to know her better, maybe ask her out. But there’s no way I’m saying no to a sexy nurse who gives phenomenal head when she texts me for a booty call.
No fucking way.
Asking for a proper date will have to wait.
Chapter 8
Bree
I’m lying in bed reading an article on my phone about how to give mind-blowing head when a text from Luke pops up.
Luke: Wanna go to music trivia and then fuck?
Me: When?
Luke: Tomorrow. Trivia at Petra’s with KK & Pasha. Fucking after.
Me: Why are you texting me this?
Luke: For fun?
I turn my head and glance at Luke, who’s lying in bed next to me. His eyes are glued to his phone screen while his thumbs dance across it, but he’s smiling like an idiot. We’ve been basking in post-sex relaxation.
It sounded like he just asked me out, and I’m not sure what to think about that. We haven’t had the this-is-only-a-hook-up talk yet. I just assumed he was on the same page.
I was a bit surprised when he agreed to come over last night. I honestly didn’t think he would. On one hand, what guy turns down a sure thing? On the other, I thought he’d avoid me since we’d run into each other at the hospital. Most dudes would have backed off after finding out I’m the new nurse on the pediatric oncology unit where he volunteers regularly. Having to face someone you’ve slept with can be awkward, even if you both agree that’s all it is. Thankfully, we seem to have pretty good banter and share an understanding of the situation.