by Jen Andrews
Jesus, when she cleaned the blood off me . . . I hadn’t been able to control my reaction. I’d slammed my eyes shut, but I hadn’t been capable of suppressing the noises coming from me. God knows I tried.
Her touch had been soft and gentle. Although she’d worn latex gloves, I’d felt the heat of her hands on my skin and couldn’t concentrate on my job of cleaning the blood off my chest and neck.
After she’d stood in front of me and told me I’d missed a spot, something had shifted between us. She’d pressed against my legs as she cleaned me off. I’d died and gone to heaven by the time her hand stopped, and her fingers were stroking the back of my neck.
We’d sat for several long seconds staring at each other. Then she told me I had pretty eyes. It’d seemed like an out of body experience when I reached up and stroked the soft skin on her cheekbone.
I stepped out of the shower, and as soon as I was dressed, I put ointment and a new bandage over my stitches. Shit, my friends were gonna give me crap all night about it, so I decided to wear a hat.
Once I left my apartment, I hopped into my Cadillac CTS-V, cranked up some Motorhead, listening to “Ace of Spades” blaring through the speakers as I headed to Cammie’s. The shop had been crazy-busy this week, and I’d worked late a few nights with Jason, helping him meet a deadline on a sick-ass motor he was building for a drag racer from Southern California. That had sent Cammie into a tizzy, which was why I was taking her with me to my Friday nightspot to watch the MMA fights with my friends, John, Sonny, and Eric.
When I knocked on the door of Cammie’s apartment, I heard that stupid dog of hers barking like crazy.
Her roommate, Jasmine, opened the door wide. “Come on in and sit down, Jeremy. She’s nowhere near being ready to go yet,” she said with a knowing smile.
Fuck. I rolled my eyes and stepped through the door as Jasmine laughed.
Cammie’s lateness drove me crazy. She was never on time for anything. I had to wait for her to finish putting on her makeup, finish the episode of the stupid reality show she was watching, or I had to wait for her to get off her cell phone.
Thirty minutes after I arrived, Cammie was finally ready to go. She was in a pissy mood based on the scowl she wore on her face when she came into the living room. I didn’t care though because we were already well over an hour late and had missed the first of the MMA fights.
She yanked the hat off my head and pushed my hair back to examine my wound. “Why did I have to find out from my friends that my boyfriend was in the ER today? What, you couldn’t call me and tell me?”
I grabbed my hat back from her and carefully put it back on my head. “For your information, I didn’t have time to call you since I was bleeding from the head and needed stitches. That’s why. By the time I got out of there, I was already running late and something came up.” That something being writing a note to a pretty nurse who took care of me, and who I wanted to see again.
“Well one of my friends saw you leave. You could have called me then.”
Jesus, she wasn’t going to give up. So I did. “You’re right. Can we go now? We’re already late.”
She grinned like she’d just won a prize, and we finally left her apartment.
I opened the passenger door for Cammie and she slid down onto the seat. Once we were on the road, she began changing stations on the radio. Several stations later, she still hadn’t settled on one.
“Cammie, that’s enough.” I pushed her hand away from the radio and turned it off. “We’ll be at the bar soon anyway.”
She sat back in her seat, letting out a huff of annoyance and crossed her arms over her chest. “I hate the music you listen to. It’s old people music,” she whined. “Can’t you put some music on your iPod for me?”
Um, hell no. There will be no boy bands or crap like that on my iPod. Not gonna happen.
Z was in charge of adding music to my iPod. She knew what I liked to listen to and I was good with that. All I had to do was hand it to her and the next day I’d get it back loaded with more music.
“I’d rather listen to nothing than that crap you call music, Cammie. They all sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher.”
She glared over at me. “Who’s Charlie Brown? Someone you went to school with?” she asked, seriously.
Holy shit, she is a fucking moron. She was actually trusted to take care of sick people at a hospital. Scary.
“Never mind,” I muttered as I pulled into Dub’s parking lot. I was still shaking my head when we walked through the front doors.
My friends were at our usual couch close to the bar and big screen TV’s. I bought myself a beer and Cammie ordered something called a “Redheaded Slut” which instantly made me think of the nurse from earlier. Not that I thought she was a slut, but just the mention of red hair caused my heart to skip a beat. I also found it highly coincidental that the day seemed to revolve around redheads. Drinks in hand, we weaved our way through the crowd to where my friends were sitting.
“Hey douchebag, you’re late!” John bellowed when he saw us. John and I had been best friends since we were in diapers because we had grown up next door to each other.
“Sorry, man. I had an issue at work.” I shoved Sonny over on the couch to make room. I took a seat, and Cammie sat her ass right down on my lap, blocking my view of the TV. After introducing her to my friends, I took a long swallow of my beer then set it on the table. Eric caught me up on what I’d missed on the fights.
Within ten minutes, Cammie had taken out her cell phone and was texting back and forth with someone. I decided to ignore her even though it bugged me. We were supposed to be “spending time together” according to her, and she was more interested in her phone.
I downed the rest of my beer and wanted another. “Cammie, I need to go back to the bar for another beer.”
“Okay, baby,” she cooed. “I need another drink too. I’ll come with you.”
Inside, I cringed as each one of my friends called me “baby” before they gave me their beer orders. We both went back to the bar where I asked for four bottles of Sierra Nevada.
“I’ll have a strawberry margarita this time,” Cammie said to the bartender. “That Redheaded Slut was nasty.”
Rolling my eyes, I pulled out my wallet to pay and left it sitting open on top of the bar while we waited for the bartender to bring back my card.
Cammie snatched my wallet off the bar and laughed at the picture I kept in the slot where my driver’s license should have been.
“Who is this fatty?” She smirked and giggled like an idiot.
The picture was of me wearing a pair of swim shorts and no shirt when I was seventeen years old. I weighed two hundred and twenty pounds at five-feet nine inches tall. Granted, I was not that size or height anymore, but the photo was my daily reminder of how I used to look, and never wanted to look again.
I jerked my wallet out of her hand. “It’s none of your fucking business, Cammie.”
“What’s your problem Jeremy? You’ve been acting like an asshole all night. Do you need some extra-special attention from me?” she asked with her fake, sweet voice as she slid her hand over to my crotch and squeezed.
It felt good, but not good enough to deal with all her crazy-ass shit.
I looked her over, trying to figure out what I had ever seen in her. Everything about her was fake. From her tits, her voice, her attitude, to her blonde hair.
Once I had my card back, I turned to Cammie. “Actually,” I said, removing her hand from my dick and setting it back on her own lap. “I don’t need anything from you. We’re over. I’m taking you home now.”
She slid off the barstool and ran to the bathroom crying.
“Shit,” I growled and slid from my seat. I grabbed the four beers I’d just ordered, left the margarita on the bar and took the beer to my friends.
“Looks like I’m leaving guys,” I said. “I’ll catch you later.”
Before I could turn to leave John asked, “Damn! Hey, Jer .
. . isn’t the redhead over by the door that bitchy chick from high school?”
Please do not let it be her. I hadn’t talked to Sabrina Roberts since the day I got the nerve to ask her out my last year of high school. John was the only person who knew what happened because I’d been so embarrassed.
I’d had a slight infatuation with Sabrina since we were freshman. She was my dream girl and had gorgeous red hair. When I finally asked her out, she laughed in my face, and said she would never go out with a fat ass like me. She was the reason I didn’t date redheads.
“Well, is it her or not Jeremy?” John asked.
When I finally looked, it wasn’t Sabrina, but Red, and she was still dressed in her work clothes. What were the odds?
She was looking around the room for something. Was she trying to find somewhere to sit? The place was packed and I didn’t want her to leave, so I waved my hand in the air.
“Hey, Red!” I called out.
She instantly recognized me and smiled, waving at me excitedly.
I quickly made my way to the end of the bar near the door.
“Well, I never thought I’d see you again,” she said and climbed onto a barstool that I’d pulled out for her. “Thank you. How’s the head?”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was as happy to see me as I was to see her. “It’s good. Do you mind if I buy you a drink?”
She smiled. “I’d love a beer. Thank you.”
“What are you doing here, Red?” I tossed some bills down to pay for our drinks. “This isn’t really a place where many ladies hang out.”
She took a swig of her beer straight from the bottle. “What makes ya think I’m a lady, blue eyes?”
Holy shit, I loved this woman. She was quick witted and gorgeous.
I stared at her in awe for a moment because I still couldn’t believe she was here. She had pretty, green eyes with tiny flecks of gold in them, and long, thick lashes.
“Um, let’s see.” I examined her from the neck up. “Pretty green eyes, amazing hair, a bit of makeup on your face—seems pretty lady-like to me.”
She smirked. “Wow, I’m not sure if I should be thanking you, or offended.”
I raised my eyebrows in question.
“Most guys would have gone straight for the obvious tits and ass,” she clarified, and then burst out laughing.
Holding in a laugh at her boldness, I nearly choked on my beer. “I’m gonna keep my mouth shut about your tits and ass for now. But, I am sure they’re as beautiful as the parts of you that I can see.”
She smiled sincerely. “Thank you. I will definitely take that as a compliment, blue eyes.”
Okay, enough with the nicknames, I needed to know her name. I didn’t want to keep calling her “Red.”
“I’m Jeremy, by the way.” I held my hand out to her, officially introducing myself.
She placed her small hand in mine and gave a gentle squeeze. “Teagan.”
Finally, I knew her name.
“Teagan.” Her named rolled easily off my tongue. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” The barstool next to Teagan opened up and I sat down. We talked about nothing in particular until John came to the bar for another beer.
“Dude, I thought you were leaving.” His brows rose and he glanced between Teagan and me.
I realized that he was trying to tell me something. Shit! Cammie is still here. “That’s right, I was, but this pretty girl sidetracked me.” Casually, I glanced around before bringing my eyes back to Teagan’s. I hadn’t seen Cammie anywhere.
Suddenly, Teagan seemed uncomfortable.
I was about to ask her for her number when she abruptly stood. “I need to run to the ladies room. I’ll be right back.”
She walked in the direction of the restrooms but stopped to chat with some other women dressed in scrubs. I hadn’t realized she was here with them, but I recognized one of the women as the nurse who had come into the exam room earlier that day. They both looked back at John and me and smiled while John stole Teagan’s barstool.
Teagan turned and headed toward the bathroom. After fifteen minutes, I became worried because she hadn’t come back yet. I went to look for her. When I didn’t see her anywhere, I approached the nurse I’d recognized from the ER.
“Have you seen Teagan?” I asked.
“Yeah, she left about ten minutes ago,” she said.
What the hell? Why did she leave?
“I’m Jackie. What’s your name?” she asked.
I held my hand out to her to shake. “Jeremy. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Are you ready to go, Jeremy?” I spun around to face Cammie. Son of a bitch!
Teagan had apparently gone home, but I couldn’t risk asking any more about her because Cammie was standing right there. Fuck my life!
Cammie folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot on the floor, waiting for me to do something.
I turned back to Jackie and said, “I need to go and drop her off.” I didn’t want to give the impression that I was going to be spending the rest of the evening with Cammie when I definitely wasn’t.
She nodded then turned back to the bar, dismissing me.
In the parking lot, Cammie walked around to the passenger door, and waited for me to open it for her. Instead, I clicked the unlock button on the key fob and sat in the driver’s seat.
She stood outside her door waiting for me to come back around and open it for her.
I pressed the button on my door that rolled the window down on her side. “Cammie, if you don’t want to walk home, I suggest you get in.”
She stomped her foot, pulled open the door, and threw herself down in the seat like a two year old throwing a tantrum. She glared over at me as she purposely slammed the door shut. Guess she wanted to play some games with me. If she wanted to act like a brat—game on!
I rolled up her window and found my favorite metal band, In This Moment, on my iPod. I hit play, shifted into first gear, and cranked up the volume to an ear-splitting decibel. I tortured her with all the screaming, loud guitars and complete insanity the band and their singer Maria Brink could muster up. Ahh, Maria Brink. Now there’s a hot-ass chick!
It was immature, but I enjoyed every second of the ride back to her apartment. I pulled into a parking space and hit the button, unlocking her door. I didn’t bother helping her out or turning down my stereo.
As soon as she slammed the door, I backed out and left, hoping I would never see Cammie again.
I was an idiot. I’d been having a great time, but now I was in the Dub’s parking lot in my car, wondering what the hell had happened, and why I’d ever thought a guy like Jeremy would be interested in me.
Before running into Jeremy, I’d kept thinking back to my favorite patient of the day and realized I didn’t even know who he was. I had completely forgotten about the chart that held his name when I had seen just exactly how gorgeous he was.
Inside the noisy TV room at the bar someone had called out, “Hey, Red.” When I realized it was sexy patient-guy, I had to admit I was so excited to see him again I’d waved back like a hyperactive schoolgirl.
Sitting at the bar having a drink with him, I had found him easy-going, funny, smart, and cool to hang out with.
Even when I’d made the comment about my tits and ass, he’d rolled with it, but then had complimented me again. He hadn’t turned it in to anything other than what it was, a simple joke. He’d been flirty, but he hadn’t gone overboard with it.
I’d flirted right back, startling myself for being so forward with him. Although I felt I looked decent, I still had a bit of weight to lose, and I probably didn’t measure up to his standards.
On my way to the bathroom, I’d thought about how extraordinary Jeremy was. I was undeniably interested in him and had just enough confidence to hint at a date when I returned from the bathroom. I definitely didn’t have the guts to ask him out.
Everything had gone south in the bathroom though. While I’d bee
n standing at the sink in front of the mirror, rearranging my hair, two younger women had come in. I’d recognized them as medical assistants from the hospital, but they worked on a different floor than me.
One girl was still wearing her scrubs. The other one, dressed in street clothes, had gone into a stall and shut the door behind her. I thought I remembered her name as being Tammy. The girl in scrubs had stood at the sink and stared at me.
“Can I help you?” I’d asked. She’d kind of creeped me out with her staring.
She’d folded her arms across her chest and took a breath. “Are you dating Jeremy?”
What the heck? “No, I only met him today. We just happened to run into each other here.” Then I wondered where the line of questioning was going.
She’d smirked. “Well, so you know . . . he’s a total manwhore. You probably shouldn’t get mixed up with him. He’s been with quite a few of the MA’s on our floor. Needless to say, none of us knew about each other, but he was stringing a few of us along at once.”
“He’s a total asshole,” the other girl had echoed from her bathroom stall.
I’d felt nauseous by what they were saying and I had thought, Um, that’s gross. Did he really do that? He didn’t seem like a sleaze ball, but I’d known him less than a day.
“Okay . . . um thanks for letting me know,” I’d said as I picked up my purse from the counter and pulled the strap over my shoulder.
Still, she’d stared at me. “We might as well introduce ourselves since we do work at the same hospital.” She laughed—a clearly fake laugh. “I’m Tiffany. What’s your name?”
“Teagan,” I’d said. “Sorry, but I need to go. It’s been a long day.”
I’d brushed past her to exit the bathroom then had stood in the hallway trying to decide whether to go back out to Jeremy and pretend nothing was wrong, confront him about what Tiffany had said, or leave? In the end, I’d snuck out.
So here I sat, in my car, thinking about how much fun it’d been getting to know Jeremy, and comparing that to what I’d been told. I had a hard time believing what Tiffany had said, but why would she say that if it weren’t true?