I look back over my shoulder just as he pulls his scrub top off in that totally sexy one-handed move that guys do, and about swallow my own tongue. The man is covered in muscles. Ones that I wouldn’t mind tracing with my tongue. Where the hell did that thought come from? Oh yes, my completely sex-deprived mind.
I quickly look away, not wanting him to think I’m sitting here gawking at him while he changes in front of his locker. I just landed this job, I don’t need to lose it because I’m ogling the hot doctors.
I STOP at the community mailbox that’s located in the foyer of my apartment complex, grabbing the few items that are in my box. Mostly junk flyers, so far. I haven’t been here long enough for anyone to be mailing me anything, other than bills from setting up utilities and such for my apartment. Nothing makes you feel like a real adult like having to set up electric and cable. Once in my second-floor apartment, I ditch my chair, opting to stand in front of my stove to cook tonight. While my chair gives me the freedom to move about freely and easily, I still have the ability to be out of it at times. Standing to cook is one of those things I try to do daily. It gives my muscles a chance to stretch and gives my body a much-needed change of position after a long day at work.
Once my stir fry is finished, I plate it and slide it across the island, where I’ve been sitting to eat my meals since I moved in. I haven’t taken the time to get a table yet for my dining room. I don’t really need one with just me. I was able to find a couple bar stools that are easy enough for me to sit in, and a plus is they tuck in nicely to the counter when I’m not using them so they’re out of the way of my chair.
I slowly make my way from in front of the stove, around the island with the aid of a walker, and slide into one of the stools. I grab the remote that’s on the counter, flipping the TV on that’s in the living room. My apartment is very open, which is great for someone in a chair. It also makes it nice, as I can practically see my TV from everywhere except my bed and bathroom. I flip through the guide and settle on a new episode of The Resident. I love watching medical shows. Working in a hospital has been a dream of mine since I was a kid, and now I’m living said dream.
I down my dinner, realizing just how hungry I was after a long day at work. I push my plate across the counter. I slide off the stool and, grabbing my walker, I make my way back around the island and take a seat back in my chair. My body is tired from work, and the little bit of time I just spent out of the chair. I quickly clean up from dinner before changing into some lounge pants and a t-shirt. I toss my shirt toward the hamper in the corner, my bra quickly following it. I let out a deep breath as my body relaxes with that contraption off, finally.
With my PJ’s on, I head back out to the living room and stop at the counter to grab the remote and a glass of lemonade from the fridge before making my way over to the couch. I transition myself from my chair to the couch, stretching out as I relax into the softness of my couch and un-pause my show. Just as it’s ending, my phone starts to ring.
“Hey, Mom,” I greet as soon as I answer the call.
“How are things going?” she asks.
“Amazing. Today was my first day with patients. I was paired with another CLS, Lucy, who was wonderful. She showed me around and observed, said that she thought I was ready to do things on my own starting tomorrow.”
“That’s great, Megan. We’re so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom. How was the drive back?” I ask. My parents drove out to Rhode Island with me to help me move here, and they took the last couple of days to drive back, stopping along the way to see the sights.
“It was good. I’m glad to be home, though. Sleeping in our bed last night felt like heaven,” she says on a laugh.
“I bet.”
“Did you get to meet any other staff members?” she asks.
“I met a couple of the nurses that work on the floor, one of the doctors, who also happened to be Lucy’s cousin.”
“That’s good. And you’re still liking the apartment?”
“I love it, Mom. I think it was a good choice.”
“Being so close to the hospital is convenient, but don’t the ambulances bother you at night when you’re trying to sleep?”
“Not really, I hear them occasionally, but I think once they’re close by, they turn the sirens off unless there’s traffic.”
“Ah, that makes sense.”
We fall into our normal conversation topics once she’s satisfied that I’m thriving at my new job and okay on my own. She tells me all about the places they stopped on the drive home and promises to call me this weekend to see how my first full week seeing patients goes.
5
DREW
“HEY, MATE,” Simon greets me as he opens the door to his house.
“Simon,” I greet as I step past him.
“I was going to ask, whatever came of that young boy the other day in the ER?”
“He had CHD, as suspected. Started him on some medicine and will follow up in a few weeks. I don’t think that he’ll require surgery or anything. It was a pretty mild case.”
“Good to hear,” he says, leading me into the house.
“Hello, Drew,” Bridget, Simon’s fiancée greets me when we enter the kitchen. She’s got one of their twin girls in her arms.
“Bridget, how are you?” I ask, holding my arms out for her to pass the baby to me. She easily comes to me and I cradle her to my chest. I’ve always loved working with kids. Being around my friends with kids always makes me realize just what I’m missing in life. I’d always assumed I’d have a wife and kids of my own by now, but things don’t always go the way we think they will.
“Doing well, just keeping up with the girls. How are you?” She asks.
“I’m great. How’s this guy treating you?” I ask her, pointing to Simon, who I know worships the fucking ground Bridget walks on.
“He’s good,” she says, a small smile cresting her lips. “When he’s not stressing over plugs being covered and gates being secured at the tops and bottoms of the stairs,” she says, a full laugh escaping her now.
“Bloody hell,” Simon curses under his breath. “So, I should just let them tumble down the stairs or electrocute themselves when they put a finger or a toy in a socket?” he gripes.
“No, I’m thankful you’re taking care of those things, dear,” Bridget tells him. “You just don’t have to stress so much about all of it.”
“It’s my job to stress over all of you, luv,” he says before pulling her into him, then drops his lips onto hers in a quick kiss. I look away, giving them a moment of privacy.
“Where’s the other one?” I ask, not at all sure which twin I have in my arms.
“Eleanor is napping still,” Simon says.
“Speaking of Eleanor, I’m going to go wake her up so that she doesn’t fight bedtime again tonight,” Bridget says.
“Shall we head to the deck?” Simon suggests. He grabs two of the beers from the pack I brought and pops the tops off before leading the way outside.
I take a seat on one of their Adirondack chairs and accept the beer Simon hands to me.