“The usual?’ Dee asks.
“The same.” I hate being so predictable, but it’s a trait I cannot shake.
I know almost every patron here, the furniture, as I like to think of them. People who, like me, have nothing better to do. The couple who drinks two bottles of wine every night and laughs their way out of the bar with rosy cheeks and high spirits. The guys from the hospital finance department, taking shots and catching up on football.
A man sitting in a booth in the far corner of the bar catches my eye. I’ve never seen him before, but a sexy thing like that is hard to miss. As if he senses my eyes on him, his gaze meets mine across the room. The way he stares at me makes me feel slightly flushed. He doesn’t avert his eyes the way most people do. Confidence is such a turn on. He smirks, and goosebumps spread across my skin. When was the last time a guy smiled at me or tried to pick me up? When last did I try? I feel like a mother hen these days. I turn away and then sneak a look back at him. He takes a sip from the glass in his hands. Broad shoulders, a rugged beard, dark hair cropped short—quite a combination. My eyes roam over his features, and I turn to avoid gawking any further.
“Gorgeous, isn’t he?”
“What?” I swivel in my seat, nearly slipping off. Darren just laughs and shakes his head.
“You know him?” I ask. “And don’t let Kiran hear you say that.”
“I may be taken, but I have eyes.” He laughs. “And to answer your question, I don’t. You should know his other half is in the restroom, though.”
“Just my luck.” I roll my eyes, turning back just as a woman equally gorgeous as the guy I was checking out takes a seat next to him in the booth. His attention immediately shifts.
“Why am I not that lucky?” I complain.
“Because you, darling, have not been out for months.” He states the obvious.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. “Excuse me,” I tell Darren. I pick up the device and sigh loudly. “Work,” I groan.
Darren shrugs a sympathetic expression on his face and goes off to help another customer.
“Hello,” I answer.
“Ocea, thank god. Are you still at the bar?”
I roll my eyes. How on earth does everyone know my whereabouts all the time?
“What is it now?” I grumble.
“Kelly just called in sick.” There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “Wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t a crisis.” Yeah, you would.
“I drank a beer, a whole pint,” I tell Tamara, the nurse in charge, who also happens to be a good friend of mine.
“Come on. You’re more sober than half the nurses here after a bottle of tequila.” I squeeze my eyes shut. The problem with being unattached is that people just assume you have no life. That you’re always going to drop whatever unimportant thing you’re doing and run to the rescue. “I’ll owe you one.” She coerces.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I cut the call and look at my untouched burger, downing the rest of my beer.
“I’ll put it on your tab, Starfish,” Darren shouts as I exit the bar. He’ll send my burger to the hospital, wrapped up with a note the way he always does. It’s the small acts of kindness and generosity like that which makes what I do worth it—being seen for the little ray of sunshine I bring, as Darren tells me.
I met Darren in the emergency room a month after I started at the hospital. It was a few minutes after my shift ended when his boyfriend, Kiran, rushed him in. An attempted hijacking went wrong. I remember the wild look in Kiran's eyes, the tear stains on his cheeks, and the blood that soaked his blue shirt and covered his hands. I knew I had to stay, help any way I could.
Kiran had been locking up the bar out back when it happened. The guy shot Darren three times, missing his vital organs by mere inches. The piece of shit left him for dead. He didn’t even take the car. If that isn’t messed up, I don’t know what is.
I sat with Kiran that night, not bothering to go home. I gave him a set of scrubs to change into and made us both coffee. He never left Darren’s bedside.
The three of us have been friends since. Besides Tam, they’re the only other friends I have.
I walk into the emergency room, and it’s chaos all around. So much for a quiet night. I’ve been working double shifts almost every week thanks to Kelly and her pregnancy woes.
“You’re a lifesaver.” Tam comes up behind me in the cloakroom, hugging me around the waist. “I need you in bay 2. Firemen just got brought in.”
“You owe me,” I mumble. She kisses my cheek and disappears. I would do just about anything for Tamara. She was there for me during my darkest hours, and she never gave me crap about the number of sick days I took. She was a shoulder to lean on then and still is. We don’t talk about that time, the dark days, but when she looks at me, there’s a sadness in her eyes. I guess broken souls recognize each other.
I shrug out of my jacket, hanging it in my locker. A locker void of pictures or children’s drawings like some of the other lockers here have. Tam and I are alike in that way. After grabbing my stethoscope, chewing gum, I make my way over to Bay 2.
I draw back the floral patterned curtain, a friendly grin plastered on my face, and I meet the cold grey stare and stoic expression of a gorgeous specimen of a man. I am about to begin daydreaming about all the things I’d like him to do to me when he snaps, “About bloody time.”
“Excuse me?” I cock a brow, his attitude annoying the shit out of me, my good mood plummeting, making his good looks irrelevant.
“We’ve been waiting here at least an hour.” He glares at me in a way that could make another nurse nervous. Not me. He’s just another pushy asshole. I have dealt with his kind my whole life. Entitled shits who think they own the damn world.
“Come on, man, it hasn't been that long.” The guy on the bed coughs, offering me a weak smirk, then flinching. His dark-skinned face looks like it was chiseled by the gods. Kind dark eyes that glisten when he looks at me. “Forgive my friend here. Patience ain't one of his virtues.”
“I’m sorry you had to wait, sir.” I direct my comment to my patient instead of the rude jerk, biting back the comment I want to make. I cannot help but sneak a glance. He’s all mysterious and broody. Dark, messy hair that falls over his eyes, lightly tanned skin, and built like a gladiator.
I clear my throat. “So, Mister…?”
“Wills,” my patient offers before I can turn the page in his file. “Kyle Wills.” I notice the pants of his uniform are pretty bloodied up.
“Well, Mister Wills, I’ve called the doctor, and she should be here shortly, but in the meantime, can you move your leg at all?” I smile at him, all the while feeling his friend’s eyes on my back.
“I can. It just hurts like hell when I do.”
“That’s ’cause you’re a pussy.” His friend stands and walks over to the bed. He folds his arms over his broad chest, towering over me.
“I think he’s broken it. Paramedics said the same thing.” He looks down at me. Mr. Know-it-all.
“You can wait out there.” I look up at the guy who is crowding me. I motion to the waiting area outside the bays.