The Infamous Ellen James (Infamous Series)

by Alcorn, N. A.

  The hospital cafeteria is unbelievably crowded because it's exactly noon and everyone, including staff and visitors, are here for lunch. I quickly get in line and grab a tray to collect my food. Regency's hospital food isn't all that bad compared to most hospitals. I mean, it's not nearly as good as a nice steak dinner, which I've been craving for the past week, but it's definitely consumable. I order a grilled chicken sandwich and grab a bag of chips.

  I'm a freak for honey mustard and make sure to grab a handful of condiment packets. If I could live with only one condiment for the rest of my life, I'd choose honey mustard, hands down, not even a contest. I could eat that special sauce with a spoon. If you know someone who doesn't like honey mustard, don't trust them with anything because they must be certifiably crazy. There is something seriously wrong with a person who doesn't enjoy that tangy, sweet taste of deliciousness.

  Honey mustard, have I told you I'm in love with you?

  Yes, I'm talking to my condiment packets.

  I head back to the emergency department breakroom and am nearly blown away at the surprise visitor I come across. Trent is sitting across from Amy as she animatedly talks about our recent delivery experience today. He gives me a genuine, breath-taking smile when his eyes glance up and see me.

  Oh man, he looks good.

  Too good.

  Trent is dressed in navy blue scrubs, and he still has his surgery cap tied around his head. His biceps are practically bulging out of his scrub top. I can't help but get pulled in by his eyes. They are as blue as the sky with dark lashes framing their beauty. I notice slight dark circles and two-day-old scruff, and I'm assuming he is probably on a twenty-four-hour stretch of no sleep. I know he'd had a grueling call schedule for the past few days, and I have a feeling he has spent most of his time in the OR.

  I set my tray on the table and sit down next to Trent while Amy continues to talk all things assholes. He is amused with her enthusiasm and quick wit, every so often giving a husky laugh.

  Oh the things that man's deep, sexy voice does to my brain.

  As I start to dig into my lunch, Trent grabs the side of my chair and pulls me closer so our knees are touching. He plants a soft kiss on my cheek and whispers, “Hi,” into my ear. I look into his baby blues, and the ridiculous grin on my face is probably giving away the fact that I'm thrilled to see him.

  "You two are sickeningly sweet together, you know that?" Amy interjects with an amused expression.

  I just smile back at her, and I can tell by the look on her face that she is truly happy for me. Amy has seen me at my worst, and I can imagine it's a relief to see someone put a smile on my face the way Trent does. I open at least five packets of honey mustard as I prepare to eat my grilled chicken sandwich. I take a bite and practically moan when my taste buds are bathed in sweet and tangy condiment heaven.

  I look up to see Trent intently looking at me.

  "You want a bite?" I hold out my sandwich for him.

  "Fuck, I thought you'd never ask." He opens another packet of honey mustard and dips my chicken sandwich into it before taking a big bite. "Is there anything better than honey mustard?" he asks me with a grin.

  A man that loves honey mustard as much as I do! Damn, he's perfect.

  "Hands down, the best condiment ever." I open my bag of chips and crunch on a few.

  "I'm going to walk in on you two fucking one day and there's going to be honey mustard packets all over Elle's bedroom," Amy declares as she stands up to put her leftover spaghetti in the microwave.

  Trent laughs loudly before leaning over and wiping a little bit of honey mustard off the corner of my mouth with his index finger, and then he slides that finger into his mouth to suck the deliciousness off. He wags his eyebrows at me as I shake my head and laugh a little. I'm finding myself really jealous of the index finger that just came in contact with his tongue.

  Lucky finger.

  Trent, Amy, and I talk a little more about his recent OR case. He just finished a six-hour surgery with a man who had been in a terrible accident with a tractor. The surgery sounds like it was brutal and completely exhausting. I don't think I could ever be a nurse in the operating room. Six freaking hours of standing in one place? No thank you.

  I feel a vibration against my thigh and realize it's Trent's Blackberry. He sighs loudly as he glances at the screen with annoyance.

  "Well, I guess my break is over. Amy, thanks for the laughs," he says as he stands up and puts his Blackberry into the back pocket of his scrub pants. I glance at his tight, toned ass and find myself wishing I was those scrub pants.

  Lucky pants.

  Trent leans down and whispers into my ear, “Thanks for sharing, Ellie girl. I'll see you tomorrow night." He kisses the corner of my mouth.

  "I can't wait. Text me later so I know you made it home, okay?" I motion with my index finger for him to lean in closer and then I softly kiss his cheek when he does.

  He smiles happily. "All right, little spitfire." Then he heads out of the breakroom door, leaving Amy looking at me with curiosity in her eyes.

  "What can't you wait for?" she asks as she grabs her plastic Tupperware bowl out of the microwave and sits back down in front of me.

  "I have a hot date tomorrow night." I can't even try to hide the excitement in my voice.

  "You two are going to bang like rabbits and you're going to tell me every single detail," she adds before taking a large bite of spaghetti.

  I grin from the mere thought of Trent giving me a good dicking.

  "My vagina is praying that you're right," I say before continuing to eat the rest of my sandwich and potato chips.

  "Hey, Ellie Belly?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I'm so happy for you. Let yourself be happy, okay? You deserve it." Amy squeezes my hand and smiles sweetly at me.

  "Thanks, Am." I smile back at her. Somehow, this girl just gets me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Vaginas have feeling too.”

  I put the finishing touches on my makeup and run my hands down my silk, black strapless dress. I'm nervous about my first official date with Trent. I mean, it's kind of crazy that I'm this worked up over it; you would think we've never hung out before.

  Trent and I have been talking nonstop since that awesome night at Murphy's Pub. Little text messages here and there throughout the day. Late night phone conversations with Trent while I'm lying in bed and he's at the hospital. This guy is pretty amazing. He's thoughtful and sweet, yet he has this take-no-shit attitude about him. That dominant aspect of Trent's personality has me wondering what he's like in bed.

  Oh god, I can only imagine.

  I find myself reminiscing about that first kiss we shared in the supply room.

  Damn, that feels like forever ago.

  Trent had me so worked up with just that one kiss that I know getting naked with him will be nothing short of spectacular. It has to be. And the sexual tension that was blatantly obvious at the bar last week… Well that was intense, potent, and nearly palpable.

  I take a deep, calming breath in an attempt to slow my heart rate. Just the thought of Trent naked and inside me has my heart beating like a hummingbird's wings. I feel like a god damn virgin on prom night. No man has ever had me this worked up before, and this foreign feeling is slightly overwhelming.

  How can I feel so strongly towards someone I've only known for a short time?

  How can one man have this intense of an effect on me?

  These are the questions that are running through my mind.

  Am I in love with Trent Hamilton?

  Just thinking the word love in relation to Trent is completely absurd. I've only known him for such a short time, yet he's made a lasting impression on me. I'm just going to ignore the mere idea of being in love with him already. I can't let myself fall for someone this quickly, and I need to keep reminding myself that Trent is temporary. He has no plans to stay in Charlotte. His home is in Seattle. Not here. Not anywhere close to here. I'm just going to k
eep things light between Trent and me. Just have fun with him and avoid thoughts of getting serious at all costs. I need to forbid myself from picturing an actual future with him.

  How could there be a future?

  He's temporary, remember…

  I quickly put on my black fuck-me heels and head out toward the living room. Amy is sitting on the couch, watching some ridiculous reality show. She appraises me with a wide smile.

  "You look fuckable, Ellie Belly. I'd totally do you." She pats the couch cushion next to her.

  I take a seat next to Amy. "Really? You don't think I've overdone it?"

  "No, not at all. You look really nervous though." She puts her arm around my shoulder, pulling me towards her.

  I place my head on her shoulder and let out a big sigh. "I am so ridiculously nervous. Why am I am so freakin' nervous, Amy?"

  "You really like this guy. And don't worry, he feels the same way about you, sweetheart."

  "I really hope so, but what's the point of all this? I mean, he's only in Charlotte for a short time." I frown at the thought of Trent eventually leaving.

  "You don't know that. You could be the reason he decides to stay in Charlotte." She runs her fingers through my hair. She's doing her best to calm me down, and for that, I love her dearly.

  "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Trent staying in Charlotte for me would be ridiculous. For one, we barely know each other. And two, his entire life is in Seattle."

  "Do me a favor and give this guy an actual shot, Elle. Don't put up your walls, okay? Let Trent in and be open to every possibility." Amy is starting to go Dr. Phil on me, and that's when I know she's being completely serious.

  I sit up and put up both of my hands in defeat. "All right, all right. Cool it with the Dr. Phil talk. I'll try really hard to just live in the moment with Trent."

  I hear a knock at our apartment door and stand up to answer it.

  Amy smacks my ass as I walk past her. "Good. Now go have fun with Dr. Thrust Me."

  I'm laughing at her nickname for Trent as I open the door. I'm quickly taken aback by the handsome man standing in front of me. He's freshly shaven and his blue eyes are overwhelmingly gorgeous. The deep blue button-up shirt he is wearing seems to make them stand out even more than usual. Trent is smirking at me as I appraise him greedily.

  I quickly clear my throat and try to get my mind off of dirty Trent fantasies. "Hi."

  "Hi," he says back with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

  Oh my.

  "Hey, Trent! Take care of my girl, all right?" Amy yells from the couch. She's grinning like a goofball, watching the exchange between us.

  Trent takes my hand and kisses it softly. "Don't worry, Amy. I will take very good care of her."

  We say our goodbyes to Amy, and I grab my purse off of the collect-all table by the door. Trent leads me out with his hand pressed against the small of my back; the heat from his hand is practically scorches me through my dress. If I'm finding myself this worked up over him just touching my back, what in the hell would I feel with a full-on naked Trent pressed up against me?

  Again, I'm shaking my head a little in a pathetic attempt to get these wayward thoughts out of my mind as Trent opens the passenger door to his black F-150 truck and helps me in.

  A truck? Really?

  I expected a surgeon like Trent to be driving a BMW or Mercedes. I'm not judging his choice of transportation; I'm actually fascinated by this.

  "Hot shoes," he remarks with a smirk before closing the passenger door.

  Trent hops in and starts the engine.

  "So you drive a truck?" I ask him as he pulls out of my apartment's parking lot and heads towards the main road.

  He chuckles, "Yes, I drive a truck. Were you expecting something pretentious like an Audi or Jag?"

  I chuckle at his ability to read my mind. "Yeah, I guess I was. Every surgeon I've ever known has driven some sort of 'pretentious' car." I motion air quotes with my fingers when I say the word pretentious.

  He grins widely at me and glances in my direction. "I'm not every surgeon, Ellie girl."

  "What's with the Ellie girl? Is that my special Trent-given nickname?" I turn towards Trent in my seat and ask with curiosity.

  "You're my Ellie girl. And you look devastatingly beautiful tonight by the way."

  He grabs my hand and kisses the inside of my palm then continues to hold my hand in his lap. I sigh with complete contentment at being this close to this perfect man. As much as I want to tell myself that I'm not going to feel serious about Trent, that's what he is to me—one hundred percent perfect.

  Trent motions with his eyes for me to choose some music on his iPod. I unwillingly pull my hand away from his and start to scan through his large selection of music. I stop at the one man whose voice nearly makes my panties fall off every time I hear him.

  Ray LaMontagne.

  Oh my sweet Jesus, I would have sex with his voice, his sexy, too-fucking-hot voice. I choose You Are The Best Thing and let out a little squeal of excitement when I hear the raspy, god-like voice begin to play over the speakers.

  "A little bit of a Ray LaMontagne fan?" Trent asks with pure amusement in his voice.

  "You have no idea! If I could have sex with his voice, I would," I admit as I tap my fingers on the passenger door to the beat of one of my favorite songs.

  Trent looks over at me as he comes to a stop at a red light. His blue eyes pull me in, and I'm just looking back at him, letting his eyes wash over me and grab my soul. Normally, this quiet silence would make me feel uncomfortable and awkward, but I relish the opportunity to just take in this moment with him.

  We're speaking with our eyes instead of our mouths.

  His mouth. Oh, his beautiful, beautiful mouth.

  Pink full lips that are just begging my teeth to bite. Because of the intense combination of the sexy voice playing over the speakers and Trent's blue-as-the-sky eyes, I'm feeling seven shades of horny. I can practically hear my vagina encouraging me to straddle Trent's lap and grind myself all over him. He gives me a wicked, seductive grin as he slowly pulls his eyes away from mine and pushes on the gas when the light turns green.

  "I'm a little jealous right now." Trent's truck starts to accelerate onto the highway.

  "Jealous?" I'm extremely curious and secretly enjoying the idea that Trent is jealous.

  "Yeah, babe. I'm jealous that another man's voice has that effect on my Ellie girl."

  I like the idea of being his far too much. The sixteen-year-old girl in me is scribbling “I love Trent Hamilton” in big fat bubble letters with corny hearts all over her girly notebook as we speak.

  I'm left a little dumbstruck at his recent declaration of being his. I'm internally beaming as I continue to sing the lyrics to one of my favorite Ray LaMontagne songs. This song is the absolute sweetest—a man declaring that a woman is the best thing in his entire life.

  What girl wouldn't love the idea of this?

  This is the ultimate fantasy, perfect dream, and wish come true for every girl out there, no matter how much she denies it. This song is hands down the best declaration of love anyone could hope for. I picture John Cusack standing outside my window with a stereo blaring this song. This song is like The Notebook, Say Anything, and Sixteen Candles combined into one perfect, lyrically beautiful track.

  Trent and I talk about my love for Ray Montagne and specifically this song. I give him a little insight into how amazing I think the lyrics really are. I tell him that it's every girl's dream to have a guy feel about her the way You Are The Best Thing describes. It paints the perfect picture of love, friendship, and fairytale happiness. Trent seems to find my keenness for one single song "adorable"—his word not mine.

  I know I'm making it blatantly obvious that, although my heart was broken not too long ago, I'm still a romantic deep down. I still want to find the one guy to sweep me off my feet. My knight-in-shining armor, my prince on the white horse, my "You had me at hello" perfect man. Now, I know this is
n't completely realistic, and I definitely don't want perfection. I just want someone who will love every part of me, including the obnoxious, sarcastic, and often times awkward Elle. And although I'm desperately trying not to admit it, Trent is looking more and more like this guy every moment I spend with him.

  "Are you going to tell me where we're going?" I ask him as I look around at my current surroundings.

  "Nope." He looks over at me with a sweet smile and warmness to his eyes.

  "You're killing me, Casanova. Killing me." I continue to browse through his music selection and choose another big favorite of mine. The soulful voice of Van Morrison starts to fill the air as he sings Brown-Eyed Girl. I quickly roll down my window and turn off the air conditioning. I turn up the music and start to loudly sing along with one of the all-time greats. I let the warm breeze of the summer air wash over my face and long, auburn locks. This song is downright lovely, and it soothes my soul into utter contentment. Brown-Eyed Girl reminds me of summer and sunshine and young love.

  Trent starts to sing along with me, and I'm not going to lie, his voice isn't perfect, but the huskiness definitely has a sultry sexiness. I could quite honestly listen to him sing to me every single day of the week. Trent rolls his window down and we continue to sing along to Brown-Eyed Girl together as we head down one of Charlotte's main highways.

  I'm pleasantly surprised when Trent pulls off of the highway into downtown Charlotte. He obviously took the very long way in order to keep me on my toes. We head into Uptown Charlotte, a really nice part of downtown. The real estate in this area is extremely expensive. I'm expecting him to take me to dinner at a nice restaurant but realize that he's got a whole different type of date planned.

  "So I'm making you dinner tonight," he reveals as he pulls in front of a very upscale and modern looking building.