by B. B. Hamel
“A nurse that works here. Her name is Nany.”
She frowns just a little. “And why do you think she’d help?”
“First, she’s a good person. I’ve seen her go out of her way to help patients, even at the risk of her own job. We have an… understanding.”
“Which is?”
“We help each other. And we look the other way when the other does something that’s maybe against policy, but would help someone.”
“So she’s a good person,” Bailey concedes but still frowns. “Why would she risk her career, maybe even her freedom, to help us out?”
“Well, that’s the issue. I think I might have to lie to her.”
Bailey laughs a little. “Of course.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I’m sure.”
“But I might not tell her exactly what we need this stuff for.”
“There’s no way she’ll go for it.”
“Why not?”
Bailey shakes her head at me like I’m some naive child. “Think about it. You ask her to help you get a bunch of surgical equipment not long after your hospital admin says you can’t do any of the surgeries you love? She’s going to see right through that instantly.”
I cross my arms. She has a very good point. “How would you do it?”
“Bring her into the fold. Make her as culpable as the rest of us.”
“That’s not much better.”
“At least she’d know what she’s getting into.”
“So you think I should explain to her what I’m doing… and ask her to join. What if she says no?”
Bailey gives me a long, flat look. “She’d better not say no.”
“You’re right about that,” I say softly, looking up at the ceiling.
“My favorite words.”
I look back and she’s smiling at me.
“I can do it then?” I ask.
“I don’t want you to,” she says, still smiling a little. “Scares me like crazy, honestly. It’s such a risk.”
“I know. But we can’t do anything without equipment.”
“Is there any other way to get it? I mean, bribe someone maybe?”
“I don’t think money is a strong enough motivator,” I say gently. “I’m afraid they’d take our money then just dime us out to administration anyway.”
“That’s a good point.” She sighs, frustrated. “Damn. I hate this.”
“I hate it too. But we need that equipment.”
She nods, chewing on her lip. “Right. So it’s a risk we have to take then. Just please… be careful.”
“Trust me. I want this to happen as much as you do.”
She looks at me for a second. “Are you sure about that?”
I lean toward her, looking into her eyes. “Listen, Bailey. I gave you a hard time at first, but… I want to help your mother.”
“You want to take me as your sex toy,” she says softly.
“You’re damn right I do,” I growl, then calm myself. “But I think you’d give me that whether we go through with this or not.”
She’s quiet for a second and I swear she’s shifting in her seat. “I want one thing before this happens,” she says finally.
I raise an eyebrow. “What?”
“I want to meet Nany before you ask her.”
I sit back in my chair for a second. “I’m not sure how we’d do that.”
“Invite her out for drinks. You say you’re friendly.”
“True. She’d come, I think.”
“So do it. If she won’t even come to drinks with you, I doubt she’d risk her career for you.”
Again, Bailey has a point.
Smart fucking girl.
“Fine. We’ll do drinks and you can meet her.”
“Fine. And if I like her, you can ask.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
I nod and stand up. I walk over to the whiteboard we’ve been using and compose myself.
My pulse is up, my blood is wild. Just the thought of taking her, of tasting her again…
But I have to keep it under control. We have more work to do.
We don’t talk about this issue for the rest of the night. We just get back to it, practicing, teaching, learning.
Hoping for the best.
“About last night,” I say finally.
“That was close,” she says, almost with a laugh.
“We need to be more careful. I didn’t know janitors came down here. I was thinking… we’d maybe do this in the dark.”
She laughs for a second then realizes I’m serious. “How?” she asks. “I mean, we use the whiteboard all the time.”
“Use our phones for light?” I offer.
“You’re being too paranoid.”
“Maybe I’m just trying to get you alone in a dark room.”
“I bet you are.” She crosses her arms and I can’t help but notice the way her breasts press together. I think she’s aware of it too, or at least aware of the way I’m looking.
She doesn’t uncross her arms. She lets me look. She wants me to.
“We’ll just have to be careful,” I repeat. “Maybe leave the door open a crack so we can hear if someone’s coming.”
“Okay, now that’s a reasonable request. Better than crawling around here in the pitch dark with you, at least.”
“Please. The only crawling you’d do is toward my cock so you could slide it down your pretty little throat.”
She gapes at me for a second then glares. “Cut it out.”
“Go open the door, dear.”
She hesitates before getting up. I watch her ass sway as she walks over, opens the door a crack, and sits back down.
She crosses her legs. “Can we get to work now?”
“If you really need to,” I say. “Maybe we could take another night off. Turn out the lights, see what happens.”
“Focus, Westin.”
“Fine.” I sigh and turn to the blackboard.
This is the problem with working with Bailey. She distracts me just as much as I distract her, but I can’t afford to be distracted.
The whole operation is on my shoulders. There won’t be anyone assisting that can help. No nurses, no other doctors, nobody. It’ll be just me and Bailey, and Bailey won’t be any use at all if something goes wrong.
This is entirely on me.
I think most doctors would feel dizzy at the thought of being totally alone for an operation. There are so many safeguards in place in a hospital to make sure nothing goes bad. That’s why there are multiple qualified doctors in the room, just in case something looks amiss. Nurses can step in, residents are even useful sometimes.
But here, it’s just me.
And I think I like it.
Of course, there’s a bit of fear there, a bit of worry, but mainly I just feel a thrill of excitement. It’s a rush, this little bit of worry and risk. It makes me want to do it all the more, just to see if I’m up to the task.
I have to stay focused though. Remember why I’m here.
To help Myra.
And to take Bailey.
I begin my lecture, my mind clear, my body still raging for a taste of my sexy little pupil.
11
Bailey
Westin sets the meeting with Nany for that Friday. We spend the remainder of the week working, entirely focused on the surgery. We move on from anatomy and start looking directly at what exactly we’ll be doing during the operation. He has me on my feet, doing motions in the air, repeating back instructions.
It’s strange, but I feel like I’m starting to get it, at least a little bit.
But when Friday rolls around, I’m nervous. More nervous than I’ve been at anything else so far. I mean, I’ve been scared, I’ve been jittery, but this?
It could end everything if we ask her and it goes wrong.
Still, that’s why we’re meeting. So I can get a feel for who she is and what she’s like before we take the plunge.
; I spend longer than I’d like to admit picking out my clothes and finally end up on my cutest, tightest jeans and a blouse that’s a little low cut and flowing. It’s casual, but it shows off my body just enough to get Westin’s attention.
I don’t love how badly I crave that attention… but I can’t help myself.
Every time I’m around him, I just picture his hands on my body… on my skin.
Shivers run down my spine and I feel the wet gather between my legs.
God, it’s stupid. But it’s the truth.
I finally put the finishing touches on my outfit just in time. My phone buzzes with a text from Westin. I’m outside.
I check myself in the mirror one last time. I nod a little, sure that I look on point, and head out.
I smile a little bit at Westin in his sober, practical sedan. He rolls down the passenger side window and leans across the center console. “Hey there, pretty girl. Want a ride?”
“Don’t be gross.”
“I’m just looking for some companionship.”
“Still gross.”
“Desperate for a fuck?”
“I’m going back inside if you don’t stop.”
He laughs and I open the door, getting in. He grins at me. “Ready?”
“Very ready. Let’s go.”
We head out into traffic. He takes us to a place not too far from my apartment, an upscale bar with gleaming metal and exposed wooden beams and polished piping.
“Very steampunk,” I comment.
He laughs. “They give out goggles to every tenth customer.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You know what steampunk is?”
“I don’t live in a vacuum, you know.”
“You just don’t strike me as nerdy.”
“Oh, girl. You’ve got no clue.” We grab a spot at the bar after briefly making sure Nany hasn’t come early.
“Okay then. Tell me about this nerdy Westin.”
“I was the Dungeon Master for my D&D group for years.”
“So what? Everyone played around that that stuff when we were kids.”
He arches an eyebrow. “I was talking about up through med school and into my residency.”
I can’t help but snort. “I can’t picture that.”
“Picture it. A bunch of white-coated nerdy doctors getting down in a fantasy world.”
“Gross. But I would’ve loved to play.”
“Weirdly, no women were interested. I even tried to get a few nurses to show up.”
“That’s because you didn’t want them to play, you just wanted them to strip.”
He laughs at that, orders a glass of white wine for me and a whiskey neat for himself.
“You’re probably right,” he admits.
“So what was the young Westin like? Aside from being a nerd.”
He frowns a little. “Normal, I think. I fell in love with medicine though.”
“When did you know you wanted to go into the medical field?”
“Oh, man, when I was young, just a kid. I watched every doctor TV show imaginable. Didn’t think I’d go into surgery until med school though.”
“What made you pick surgical?”
“A professor, actually. He saw me making a model TIE fighter in the back of a class and, instead of yelling at me, complimented me on the fine details and suggested I take up surgery.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. You were making a model TIE fighter, like, from Star Wars?”
He grins at me, shrugs, sips his whiskey. “Told you. I was a total dork.”
I shake my head, laughing at him. “No, that’s some next-level nerdery.”
“Okay, then. Since you’re so cool. What were you like?”
“Nothing special,” I admit. “I was into art stuff when I was younger.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, drawing, painting, whatever. I was part of the art club, hung around the art classroom, whatever.”
“Bet you wore a beret.”
“Sure as hell did.”
He laughs and sips his drink again.
I feel so loose and happy, oddly enough, despite our reason for being here. It’s really hard to imagine this man next to me, so rough and handsome and gorgeous, doing anything but saving lives. But of course he used to be a kid, like anyone else.
“So what happened? Did you go to art school?”
“I wanted to,” I admit. “But my mom got sick and things got hard. She wanted me to go, offered to help pay, but I just… didn’t apply. I stayed home, helped her out.”
“You don’t live at home anymore, though.”
“Nope. I got a job and moved out because she basically forced me to, but I made sure I was still close by.”
“Huh,” he says, frowning. “She kicked you out, huh?”
“She wants me to have a life,” I say softly, my voice almost a whisper. This isn’t a pleasant memory, but it’s an important one. “She wants me to date boys and have fun and… I don’t know. I just can’t, not with her like that.”
He’s quiet for a second then I feel him put his hand on mine on top of the bar. I turn my palm up and squeeze his rough fingers.
“We’ll make it right,” he says softly. “I promise.”
“Thanks.”
I smile and sip my drink, pulling my hand away. He sips his and looks around.
“She should be here by now,” he comments.
Which just sets my heart hammering in my chest.
“What if she doesn’t show?” I ask.
“Then she doesn’t show. We haven’t told her anything yet. Relax.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “It’s hard not to freak out. What we’re doing…”
“I’m aware,” he says, warning me with his eyes.
I stop myself. We lapse into silence for a minute before he turns slightly.
“She’s here,” he says, standing.
I watch as he walks over and greets a beautiful, tall girl with thick, long, nearly jet-black hair. She has brown eyes, a long face but still feminine, perfect white teeth. She’s wearing simple jeans and a plain top with sensible shoes, and I’d bet anything she just got off work.
“Nany, this is Bailey,” he says. I stand and shake her hand and she gives me a big smile.
“Girlfriend?” she asks. “I’m shocked. I didn’t know Westin dated. I thought he was married to his job. I’m pretty sure more than one of the nurses has tried.”
“Not his girlfriend,” I say quickly.
He chuckles. “Don’t act like it’d be so bad, Bailey.”
I blush a little. “We’re just friends.”
“Oh. Right. I’m so sorry.” She laughs, covering the awkwardness. “Okay, how about drinks on me?”
“Gladly,” Westin says.
We all sit, Nany orders drinks. She has a gin and tonic while we get refills.
“Glad you could come,” Westin says to Nany. “We get along at work so I figured, hey, why not actually hang out for once?”
“And you brought a girl to make me feel safer,” she says, nodding. “Smart move, doctor.”
“I didn’t get to the top of my field by being a moron.” Westin grins at her and Nany laughs. They lapse into conversation about the hospital, and I feel like a third wheel, but it’s actually a good thing.
He’s right. They have a good rapport. They seem to be in agreement about most things, about the administrators, the other nurses, even the patients.
“Mr. Sanders is going to eat himself into an early grave,” Nany says with a laugh.
“Seriously, that man loves cake more than anyone I’ve met in my entire life.”
“He gets it three times a day.”
“No shit?”
“Seriously.”
“Oh, god. That guy is insane. I’m going to cut him open tomorrow.”
Nany laughs and leans toward him. For a second, I get a pang of jealousy.
They have so much in common. They both work in the hospital, have medica
l knowledge, seem to really enjoy working with their patients. They have a connection that I’ll never share with Westin.
But so what?
Why do I care about that?
I force myself to sip my wine. I don’t want to get drunk, not tonight, and I notice Westin taking it easy too. After a half hour, Nany finishes her first drink and orders another, and the conversation continues.
But my jealousy remains, as much as I hate it.
I shouldn’t feel this way. It’s absurd. I mean, he’s just a doctor helping me save my mom.
So what if we have this insane sexual chemistry? So what if we have some deal where I’m going to be his sex toy?
And so what if the thought of spending two weeks with Westin letting him do whatever he wants to my body drives me absolutely wild with animal lust?
It doesn’t matter. We’re not together. I don’t even like him.
He’s arrogant. He’s mean, short-tempered, rude. He doesn’t seem to give a shit about anything but getting what he wants.
And that’s just the start of things. I don’t want to be involved with a man like him.
So feeling jealous is insane. It’s stupid.
I’ll never have a connection with Westin like what he has with Nany because I’ll never be a nurse or a doctor. It’s just not my thing, and that’s okay.
And it’s not like I even need a connection with him. I mean, I just don’t care.
I can’t let myself care.
Conversation continues and time slowly slips past. I can tell Nany’s having fun. She orders a third drink and Westin teases her for it. She laughs and shrugs. “I don’t have a shift tomorrow,” she says. “But I think you do, doctor.”
“Fair point,” he says. “Guess I should stop.”
“What about you, Bailey? You don’t have a shift in a hospital somewhere tomorrow, do you?”
“Nope,” I say. “Just a shift as a barista.”
She laughs. “That’s great. Where do you work?”
“The Darker Roast,” I say.
“Oh, I know that place. I love it! Really cute.”
“Thanks. I have nothing to do with the decor, I just make coffees.”
She laughs, a big smile on her face. Her laughter is actually pretty infectious and I can’t help but notice Westin’s smiling too.