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“Oh my God,” Bailey laughs. “Me? I get sad if I swat a fly out of the air.”
“No, no, I could absolutely picture this happening,” Christopher grins. “And how exactly might that have gone down?”
Christopher, Bailey, and I entertain ourselves by embellishing the truth, and imagining how a several-months-pregnant young woman could have knocked my attacker down the deck stairs. After a few minutes of this, I’m laughing and feeling much better already. I wonder if my injury is even serious enough to merit a visit to the ER. However, I guess I should leave that up to the professionals to decide, even if that professional is…
“Rick!” I feel a shock of electricity jolt up my spine as Christopher spots his friend. I follow his gaze towards the opposite end of the room to see Bailey’s dad heading towards us. I wish I had a mirror to see if my makeup looks acceptable, then remember with chagrin that a good portion of my face is still speckled with blood. What am I thinking? I’m a mess with a lump on my head the size of an orange. I settle on simply smiling and giving him a weak wave.
“Chris, Bailey.” Rick hugs Christopher and kisses Bailey on the top of the head. Then, his gorgeous amber eyes alight on me, and I swallow hard. Even in pale-blue scrubs, his body looks fantastic. The muscles in his arms are clearly defined, and he’s tall and built. His chestnut hair is covered with a cap at the moment, but I can see bits peeking out. I helplessly wonder again what it would feel like to be swept into those arms, and hope he doesn’t notice me lick my lips.
“Hi Kara,” says Rick. He whistles at the sight of me, and, unfortunately, not in a good way. But did I imagine it, or did his gaze just flicker to my tantalizingly low neckline and back up again? Before I can process what I saw, he says, “How are you feeling?”
“Really not that bad,” I promise. “I’m lucky to have had these two great nurses taking care of me.”
He grins.
“That’s great, but I still want to examine you,” he says. “Bailey, Chris, you two don’t have to stick around. I’m about at the end of my shift and can take Kara home when we’re done here.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Bailey says, embracing him tightly. “We love you!” She and Christopher wave, and after a final round of hugs, they head out the main doors, hand in hand. It makes for a sweet sight, but now, I’m alone with Rick.
Have I ever been alone with Rick before? I wrack my brain for other instances and come up empty-handed. It’s always been me, Bailey and him together until now. I wonder if he realizes this, too.
“Alright, let’s get you to an exam room,” Rick says, smiling warmly at me. I nod wordlessly, my mouth gone suddenly dry. As I attempt to stand up, the room spins around me, and my legs wobble, threatening to deposit me back into the chair. Right as I’m losing my balance, though, Rick’s hand closes around my upper arm, steadying me. I flash a relieved smile at him, and the sight of his returning grin feels like sunlight spreading across my chest.
We walk slowly to the examination room. Rick keeps his hand gently on my arm, and moves another to my lower back, keeping me steady. I am wearing a crop top and a high-waisted skirt, and his palm is deliciously warm against my sliver of bare skin. Focus, Kara, I tell myself as we enter the room and he closes the door behind us. He’s just doing his job.
The room is small and windowless, with pale yellow walls. Rick helps me sit on the examination table, the paper crumpling and crackling beneath me. Then, he grabs a tablet and pulls up a stool.
“Alright, Kara, this is the boring stuff,” he says, smiling again. I nod and laugh a little, trying not to stare too deeply into his eyes.
“What medications are you on?” he asks.
I think about it. “A multivitamin?” I suggest, and he laughs.
“Alright, good to know,” he says. “Anything else?”
I shake my head.
“Family history?” he asks.
“Of what?”
“Disease of any kind. Especially anemia, or anything to do with your blood. That would be important to know right about now,” he says.
I tell him what I can remember. It would probably be helpful to call my mom and ask her about our family history, but I’m not about to confess to her that I’m in the hospital. She’s enough of a worrywort as it is.
Rick asks if I feel dizzy or faint, and I tell him that I was initially, but that I’m feeling better now. (Any dizziness or faintness I’m experiencing is due only to his nearness, but I keep my mouth shut on that topic.) He finally puts on a pair of gloves and with a deft but gentle touch, examines the wound on my forehead. I hiss in pain at his initial contact.
