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‘Sorry?’ She shook her head in shock. How did Gemma even know about Logan? ‘Why would you even think that?’
‘Because you look...different.’ Her friend pulled a face. ‘You’ve got a bit of a...glow going on. I thought you must have met someone. Maybe changed your mind about dating after all?’
‘Changed my mind about dating?’ Kat echoed numbly.
It had just been ice cream with Logan—hardly dating.
‘Yeah. You started feeling it after all?’ Gemma said encouragingly.
Feeling it. Well, Logan certainly made her tingle, from head to toe. She felt turned inside out just from the way his eyes swept over her.
She flushed guiltily and Gemma seized on it instantly.
‘Aha!’
She’d certainly imagined it...that night. She’d spent an indecently good proportion of the night imagining how kissing Logan would feel.
Even now, her heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of it.
Totally inappropriately.
‘It’s none of your business. Also, I don’t sleep with every guy who takes me out on a date,’ she said primly instead, as Gemma gave a heavy sigh, her disappointment evident.
‘You don’t sleep with any of them,’ she complained. ‘And, okay, I’m not saying you should do the hokey-pokey with all of them, but you’re supposed to be free and single, and having at least a little bit of what you fancy.’
‘Yes, I know, but—’
‘Nothing serious, you said,’ Gemma reminded her. ‘Just having some fun.’
‘I am having fun,’ Kat insisted.
Though she wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince most. The truth was that the only thing she’d really wanted was to be Carrie’s mommy. No amount of dating was going to make her forget that—although she was trying.
Much like the way she was trying to pretend that Logan’s face wasn’t flashing through her head every time her friend mentioned sex.
A call on the emergency phone interrupted their conversation, much to Kat’s relief.
‘Seattle General, ER.’ Grabbing a pen, she began to make notes, twisting the paper around as one of the doctors quickly scanned it and mouthed that they would run the shout. Then Kat reached for the loudspeaker and announced the adult trauma call as the team came quickly together to get the rest of their equipment organised. Within ten minutes the team was all prepped and the patient was being hurried in.
One of the emergency responders was trying to hold down flailing fists in an attempt to prevent the man from being hurt as the gurney raced along and also avoid getting hit themselves.
As Kat’s team stepped forward, the doctor leading the shout called timings for transferring the patient from the emergency responders’ equipment to the hospital bed and then it was up to Kat and Gemma to keep him from sitting up.
‘This is Adam, late thirties. He was discovered by his neighbour in the front garden of their apartment block. Posterior head injury. He has a blood coming out of his left ear, a pulse of seventy-one. There’s evidence of alcohol intoxication and he’s very combative. Because of the head injury we’ve had to tape his head securely to the blocks and the oxygen mask, but he keeps trying to rip them off and he keeps lifting his head to sit up.’
The atmosphere in the team instantly shifted. The blood from the ear was suggestive of a skull fracture, so now they were not only concerned about a significant head injury but also about any possible neck injury as well. If the patient wasn’t going to be co-operative, then it was going to be that much harder to keep him safe. Experience told her that the best course of action now would be to get the man to CT.
‘Okay, thanks.’ Elizabeth—the doctor running the shout—stepped forward to her patient. ‘Hello, Adam, I realise you’ve had a drink, but can you tell me what day of the week it is?’
For a moment the patient stopped flailing, pausing long enough to think.
‘Friday. No...’ He blinked, clearly confused. ‘Saturday.’
‘Okay, and—’
‘No. It’s Sunday.’
‘All right, and can you tell me the month?’
