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CHAPTER 5
THORNE
I let out a breath of relief as I walk through the door of the rundown bar across town. There’s soft music playing while murmured conversation sounds around me. It’s my favorite bar, the one place I can go where work doesn’t follow me.
Most of the doctors and nursing staff like to hang out at Dickie’s bar down by the hospital, but I learned my lesson about hanging out there the hard way. Those nurses are horny, and after accidentally going home with one who turned out to be on my service the very next day, things got awkward. Now, I stay far away from the nurses and keep my fingers well away from their honeypots.
I make my way over to the bar and quickly order myself a beer. Today was a hard day, and it’s all because of her. I haven’t gotten the little she-devil out of my head all day. From the very second I saw her at the elevator, right until she clocked off after her shift.
I think I spoke all of three words to her throughout the day, one of them being “Move,” when she got a little too close during the cesarean, but it was necessary. I wanted nothing more than for her to get a bird’s eye view and learn everything there is to know, but when she nearly knocked over the midwife with baby number three in her hands, I had no choice. She was so engrossed in the procedure that I don’t even think she noticed the other midwife, even after I told her to move.
It nearly killed me watching her facial expressions as she learned that being on my service wasn’t going to be an easy ride, but she needed to be punished for her recklessness this morning. What better way to do that than to memorize the hospital policies? She’s going to have to learn them at some point, so technically, I was doing her a favor. She should think of it as now having a deeper knowledge of the hospital system that she’s currently working in, something that the other students are yet to familiarize themselves with. When a question is asked about procedures, she’ll be the first one raising her hand, and the other doctors will notice.
Pride surges through me at my ridiculous rationalizing. I don’t understand why I have this need to help her out. I want her to do well. Scratch that, for some unknown reason, I want her to soar, and I want to be the one to help her make that happen. I know I’ve only talked to her for less than two minutes, but I can already tell that she has an innocence about her that must be protected. She’s going to go far, but if she’s not careful, she’ll be crushed, and for that to happen … well, shit. That would destroy me.
Maybe Asher was onto something about this BOOM bullshit. Maybe it is real, or maybe she’s just the kind of woman who demands a man’s attention without even asking for it. Either way, I’m screwed. I’ve never had an issue with getting a girl out of my head, but this one is sticking around, and I’m dying to get to know her. I want to know what makes her tick because seeing that frustrated set of her jaw when she realized that she was about to spend the day reading procedures was the best thing I’ve ever seen. I’m not going to lie, listening to her graciously accept her consequences while she screamed and cursed me out in her head—that definitely comes in a close second.
The bartender places my drink down and I hand him a fifty. “Keep ‘em coming,” I tell him, scooping the beer off the bar and turning away. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not usually the creep who likes to go to bars alone, but sometimes a man just needs to get away from normal life. Had I called my friends, a few beers would have turned into a few too many, and with work scheduled for tomorrow, it’s not a risk I’m willing to take. I’ll save that shit for a day off. Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve had a big night with the boys. I think we’re overdue.
I make my way over to a vacant table where I can get a bit of peace and quiet, but a howling feminine laugh in the corner of the bar instantly grates on my nerves. I take a sip of my beer, focusing hard on tuning the obnoxious woman out.
Who comes to a bar like this to have a good time? That’s not what dive bars are for. Their sole purpose is to offer a quiet place where dickheads like me can come and ignore the rest of the world. Maybe it’s time to find a new dive bar. I’m sure there’s plenty around; it’s just a pain trying to find a good one.
