by Gina Kincade
Well, she wouldn’t.
I sigh as I watch her finish some paperwork. Her bun is messier than normal. Her glasses are sliding down her slender nose. I want to take them from her, place them on the counter ledge that she’s made into a desk, and pick her up. I want to hold her, reassure her that there’s nothing wrong with taking a break. No one would dare think of her as weak. Not with me around.
Now that my shift is close to being over, the emergency room is quiet. Only a couple patients. Both of whom are complaining about a cold that might be the flu. It’s not the flu. They’d be a lot sicker if it were. But Asha was great to both of them and is writing the required encyclopedia-length book for her report. Thanks HIPPEA for making it almost impossible to do our job what with all the fucking paperwork. I know. I know. I shouldn’t complain because it is thanks to HIPPEA that patients have a lot more privacy, but can’t there be some give about the bureaucratic paperwork we have to fill out?
I’m finishing my paperwork on the opposite side of the counter that surrounds the nurses’ station. I’m about fifteen feet away from Asha when I hear a gigantic stomach growl. Glancing up, I notice Asha’s hand on her belly and she’s rolling in her lips, trying to keep from laughing.
“You hungry?” I sound a lot gruffer than I mean to.
She bites her lip. “I guess so. God, did you really hear that?”
Tanya is behind me, but she says, “Honey, I heard it from over here.”
I flip my folder closed and hand it to Tanya. “Done.”
My stomach starts acting really weird—roiling and making me slightly queasy—when I decide to take matters into my own hands. I’m going to get the good doctor food. It doesn’t mean anything more. But I’m sweating as I stand in front of pretty little Asha.
“You’re going to eat.”
Shit. I meant to ask her what she might like to eat, and I’d go get it for her in the cafeteria. But instead my inner caveman has taken over, ordering her around. I don’t goddamned know why, but this isn’t the first time I’ve ordered her around. I’m surprised I don’t just pound my chest and say, “Me want you. Me take you,” and fling her over my shoulder. Although, I hate to admit it, but I have fantasized about that. See, I’m not at all a feminist, but the shit Asha goes through in a day has seriously gotten me thinking about joining…I don’t know. Can I become a Gloria Steinem groupie? That is her name, right?
Asha blinks. Her big brown eyes are so gorgeous. I never used to have a favorite eye color. Until I met her. Now, I like brown. So dark they remind me of night. I can’t tell her pupils from her irises. And, fuck, is it hot to watch how her eyes sparkle and dazzle me into the caveman standing in front of her.
She sniffs and straightens, releasing her pen. “I—I can’t remember when I ate last.”
“That’s too long,” Tanya yells. I have no clue where she is in the emergency department. I’m pretty sure she’s a deity, though, because she knows all and sees all when she’s here.
“Yeah, too long,” I say, trying hard not to flinch at my insanely intellectual way of conversing with Asha. If she only knew that inside my head was a man who had a mind. But, oh no. I’m me, a caveman whose dick is already noticing her.
I will not get hard in front of her, I tell myself.
My cock, though, is suddenly awake and not listening to my orders.
I’m not going to get erect so I need to think of…Oh yeah. There was that patient who had a weird form of foot fungus that made his toenails turn almost purplish green. I try to remember the toenails and that helps a lot.
But all my concentration is focused on recalling that image, so I’m even less conversational to Asha.
“We’re getting you food.” Yep, that’s me impressing her with another order.
Asha blinks again, looking down at her paperwork. “I guess I am done here, so I could—”
I grab her hand and force her away from the department, Tanya ducking her head out to give me a thumbs-up and even a wink. I’ve never seen Tanya so animated and am kind of amazed by it. But I’m even more intrigued with myself and how I’m pulling Asha with me through the hospital hallways to the cafeteria. It’s a good ten-minute walk and I should try talking to her. But I just glance at her and am even more tongue-tied. Jesus, she’s pretty. So fucking pretty.
From the little I know about the woman, I’d guess she has no clue how hot she is. I mean, she’s not just a nice face, which is angelically gorgeous yet sexy as sin. She’s smoking. I’ve spent many hours contemplating what she might look like naked. I’m pretty sure she has breasts that are perfect for my palms. Hips that make me think about grabbing her and pulling her to fit against me. And she has this little waist that makes me want to lick her curves. But she hides her body under scrubs that are a size too big, which is all right because it gives my imagination that much more of a challenge.
Her stomach growls again as we pass into yet another hallway that somehow leads us to the cafeteria. The hospital was built throughout many years, wings seeming to be glued together by this network of hallways. That’s why it takes so long to get anywhere, because of the labyrinth that is the hospital. And I’m thankful that this time of the morning there aren’t very many people out and about.
I glance at Asha, realizing I’ve been holding her hand this whole time. She’s got one hand on her stomach again.
“Did you eat before your shift started?” Finally, I’m not sounding like a crazed caveman; although, my voice is more of a growl than usual.
She nods. “A banana.”
“That’s not eating.”
She chuckles. “It’s a banana. And I did eat it.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “You need to eat more.”
Now, she really laughs. Loud. She’s got one of the greatest laughs ever. It’s a mix of unabashed joy with her feminine voice. It’s kind of singsong pretty, but with enough snorts to make it endearing.
She rolls her eyes. “I eat enough. Trust me.”
“You haven’t eaten for nearly twelve hours. That’s not eating enough.”
Her eyes widen. “I know. This shift went by super fast. Did you eat?”
I nod, glad I don’t have to lie to her.
“What’d you eat?”
I purse my lips, not wanting to tell her. But it’s Asha, and I have a weird feeling I could never lie to her or even omit the truth.
She tugs on my hand in a playful way. “Come on. Now you have to tell me what you ate with your face like that.”
I sigh and resign my fate to the gods as I say, “A cupcake.”
She stops, and since we’re still connected, I have to stop too, turning and looking at her eyes as they light up. I’ve never seen eyes like hers before but they really glimmer, and her gaze dances with mischief.
“A cupcake?”
“Yeah.”
“One cupcake?”
I sigh.
“And you’re getting after me for not eating enough? By the way, it’s too cute that you ate a cupcake. What kind was it?”
I frown. “Cherry something. Marsha, the receptionist, made them. They were there. I was hungry. End of story.”
She shakes her head. “No way, big guy. Never. You will rue the day you told me about eating a cupcake. I’m not sure why, but I’m going to have to tease you mercilessly now.”
I yank her hand and resume walking, trying not to smile. “I’m at your mercy then.”
She giggles a tad maniacally, which I love, as she starts to skip beside me. “Tough, rugged Ryder eating a cherry cupcake… It could be my demented and very tired mind—god, I have another thirteen hours to go until I’m done—but something about you eating a cherry cupcake is seriously making my day.”
I shrug. “I eat cupcakes.”
She shakes her head and stops skipping once she sees two nuns approaching on the opposite side of the hallway. “But you’re so manly, which, you know, makes it all the more adorable.”
“Am not.” I have no idea wh
y I’m taking the stance I am—as well the way I sound like I’m about twelve. But I’m loving talking to her like this. I’m finally relaxed enough to sound a little like the guy I am. Not just a caveman. Ugh.
She resumes her skipping and giggling once the nuns pass.
I glance behind us, making sure no one is around. “You Catholic?”
She shakes her head then grimaces. “Well, I was raised Catholic.”
“Don’t tell me you went to a parochial school.”
“Complete with the plaid skirts and rulers smacked against my knuckles if I laughed too loudly.”
Jesus, now I’m picturing her, as an adult, in a little plaid skirt. But in my fantasy, she’s the one with the ruler, and I’ve been a very bad boy. I’m not one for role playing. But I can’t seem to stop myself from thinking about it. With her.
She stops skipping. “You okay? You look a little…I don’t know what.”
I yank on her hand all the more, hurrying down the hall to see if I can get the image of her in a little skirt out of my head. “Just hungry.”
“You’re eating with me? Not just here to force me to eat?”
I stop and glance at her. She’s teasing me. And I’m loving it. I love this whole thing. I don’t think I’ve been this happy ever before. God, I’m a sap.
And I’ve got no chance to win this girl, the beautiful woman in front of me, because she’s not only out of my league, she’s…she’s…well, there’s no way for this idiotic crush to go anywhere. I need to remind myself of that.
But I really fucking like her, something inside of me whines. And I want to see if I can get her to keep teasing me.
“I won’t force you to eat. Much.”
She shakes her head, smiling. “What if I forced you to eat?”
I look her up and down. “You and what army?”
She guffaws. It’s loud and real and makes my heart hammer hard. “What a comeback! I haven’t heard that since I was in the second grade.”
I shrug. “What can I say? You bring out the second-grader in me.”
“Aw, shucks.” Her smile instantly disappears as she places both her hands on my shoulders. “Oh my goodness, I never thought I’d live to see the day…”
“What? What day?”
“When you gave me a full-fledged smile. You have amazingly nice teeth. They’re really white and straight.”
I roll my eyes and pull her yet again down the hallway. “I think you would say, ‘Aw, shucks,’ to that.”
We veer into the cafeteria where workers are stacking pancakes into giant silver trays, kept constantly warmed in the buffet tables, and the smell of sausage is strong. No one else is around. Not a lot of people who would notice if I tackle Asha to a table and decide if I want to hug her or lick every inch of her.
I’ve never had so much fun picking out food. But she makes everything fun, like when she asks if I want cheese on my scrambled eggs and tries to splash hot sauce all over my plate when I’m not looking. Asha is kind to everyone, even the grumpy cafeteria cashier. And I adore how she’s bouncing back from being panicked and sad, to this woman who actually makes me smile when I thought nothing, other than Neil, ever would. I’m helping her come back from the mood Dr. Murphy dumped on her. And, fuck, if I don’t want to stand at least ten feet taller. Even if I never can feel her lips against my own, knowing I’m helping her makes me feel…so good.
We decide to eat in the cafeteria, plopping our trays on opposite sides of a long table. Somehow she’s feeding me her poached eggs and bacon. I’m not sure how that came to be, but I open for her when she tells me to try something. I want to feed her. Like they do for dates, but I worry I’m reading her wrong. She’s not attracted to me. I’m a nurse. I’m a fuck up compared to her.
I have a crush on her.
Not the other way around.
But I give in and decide that even if nothing ever happens, I’ll regret not feeding her. I’ll regret not seeing her lips part for me, even if it doesn’t mean a goddamned thing for her.
“Want some of my scalloped potatoes?” I ask, noting how my voice sounds dry and nervous.
She looks up from her inspection of her catsup-covered hash browns and nods. “Yeah, they look good.”
I scoop up a heaping forkful and slowly reach across the table. Her eyes focus on me for a second, but then she looks at the bite and opens her perfect pink, full lips. I’m careful not to let my instant arousal interfere too much, but, seeing her lips around my fork…fuck. I’m a goner. I want her so bad I can’t think straight for a few seconds. Seriously. I might have blacked out. I don’t know. But I’m suddenly back in my body and placing the fork on my side of the table, trying to cover the fact that my hand’s shaking.
“Mmm,” she says. “Those are good.”
That noise she made, the tiny little moan of happiness, goes straight to my cock. I’m getting hard and thanking god I can hide it under the table. Not the best day to wear boxers. On a day like today, where I’m competing with hormonally charged teenagers, I need my boxer briefs. But I can calm down.
Instead, I ask, “Want more?” I will feed you until I can’t stand it any longer and I will have to leap over the table and rip off your clothes. Just say the word, Asha, and I will feed you forever more.
She smiles. “I do, but…” she frowns, “…I’m already full.”
I nod, looking down at my nearly empty plate. It’s not like I have a lot to give her, but I really liked feeding her. I want to do it again, even if she is full. But I try to be a gentleman and keep staring at my plate, wishing she’d change her mind.
I’ve never fed anyone. Oh, sure, I’ve taken a turn at feeding Neil when he was little. And now we have gummy worm wars, throwing them at each other’s open mouths and laughing until someone chokes. That sounds a lot more dangerous than I thought it would.
Anyway, I’ve never been the kind of guy who would feed someone. I’ve never slowed down enough to be that interested in a woman. I’ve gone on a few traditional dates, but most of the women in my life were just random hookups. I’ve never done this. Never felt this. And the thing that sucks is that I know this is only one-sided. But I can’t seem to stop myself from…from feeling this way, from pushing boundaries.
Maybe Asha could become my friend. Yeah. That’d be nice. It could be a torturous way to simultaneously feel like I’m possibly the happiest I’ve ever been, the most turned on, and hyper-aware of another person as well as feeling like shit because these feelings aren’t going to go anywhere.
Somehow we’re done eating and taking our trays back to the dishwashing area, piling them up neatly, and I don’t want to leave the cafeteria. I have less than an hour left of my shift. And I’ve never been so depressed about that. I want to stay with her. Stay right here where she looks up at me with her giant brown eyes and makes my heart crush itself, makes my guts knot, and makes my dick want to dance a jig. It’s crazy to feel this much for someone, right? Someone I hardly know. But, shit, do I like her.
We’re slowly leaving the cafeteria and once we cross the line from the big room and into the maze of hallways, I feel like someone’s taking my heart and squeezing it all the more. I’m in a little pain that I will never admit to. This crush on Asha is a lot stronger than I thought, and I’m thinking of calling my sister and asking for advice on what to do for an unrequited crush when I glance at my pretty little doc.
The glowing, golden warmth she exuded in the cafeteria is gone. Her face is slack, so much so her lips are drooping. Her eyes aren’t sparkling.
“Hey.” I reach down and grab her hand. Something I shouldn’t do but can’t help myself. “What’s wrong?” I pull her to a stop when there aren’t any people roaming in our vicinity.
She looks up at the ceiling, clenching my hand in a firm grip. I like it when she holds me back.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.” I’m a little embarrassed I say as much, worried I’m transparent, but what the hell.
I shake my head. “I don’t get hit on all the time.”
She rolls her eyes, a slight glimmer of her usual self coming back. “Come on. I saw a patient try to grope you when giving you her number.”
I wince. “I—ah—that was—”
“That wasn’t the first time I’ve seen a woman basically throw herself at you. But—”
Heat climbs up my chest, because I’m uncomfortable talking about women being attracted to me. Not that long ago, I loved the way women looked at me, flirted, and several did throw themselves. Yeah, I was a little unbearable. My sister had a talk with me about how much of a dick I was being; although, she didn’t say it like that. But I saw her point. I was using women, bouncing through a slew of them, having my way and moving on quickly. Well, I would try to give my sexual conquest a great night in the process, and even more unbearably thought I could make any woman come at my command. Yeah, I was an ass.
And, to be honest, I think I am good in bed. But what does it matter when I’m holding hands with a woman who probably sees me as her buddy?
You know what? It doesn’t fucking matter. None of it does because Asha doesn’t want me. And that’s okay. I don’t blame her. I’m not good enough for her anyway.
So I get to the real point of her question. “You felt like shit when someone hit on you?” I know she’s talking about Dr. Murphy, the nut sack who I’d like to squeeze his neck until his eyes popped out.
She bites her lip and looks down, right at our joined hands. Before she can separate from me, I hold her tighter, pulling her closer.
“He’s a dirtbag,” I say, trying to clean up my language a little for her. “If someone made you feel like shit—”
“I think it’s a choice if I feel like shit or not.”