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We had to stop this—we were both hyped up from the emergency. Every touch felt amplified. My blood ran red hot, being this close to her.
What we needed to do was process what had happened tonight.
Her coat started to play a loud rock song and we jumped apart.
Saved by the literal bell.
“Holy sh— My phone.” I pushed away from the wall as Stacey found her mobile. I crossed to the other side of the room with a hard-on so painful it hurt to walk.
“Mum, hey. Hi. Yes, I’m fine.” She paused. “What? The story is up already? Yeah, I’m with Harry now. I’ll tell him.”
I looked over my shoulder. Stacey was standing now, the sheet having slipped to the floor.
“The story about tonight has already gone up on social media. Someone filmed the whole thing, and the reporter has a brief story on the newspaper’s page, too.”
Distracted by the phone call, she hadn’t noticed that the sheet had fallen to the floor. She was wearing lacy panties again; silvery-grey this time. Not even the knowledge that her mother was on the phone was enough to smother my raging erection.
“Huh, okay.” I scrubbed my face. “Guess we are Stanmore famous now.”
“Ha, yeah.” Stacey’s attention went back to the call. “What was that Mum?”
I quickly left the room, giving Stacey her privacy, and headed to the staff kitchen to set up dinner with the Thai takeaway, still warm in the containers.
God, we’d almost kissed.
I found two bowls and banged them down on the table. I took a deep breath.
Stacey had rules and I respected them, and her. No question at all.
People did dumb things when they were amped up on adrenaline.
Tonight had been action packed. And it was well known that patients sometimes formed a crush on doctors or emergency workers who helped them in a crisis.
Stacey had made it perfectly clear where she stood about us. She was acting on impulse after a huge night.
We were amped up the night at the racetrack too.
My stomach growled, pushing that thought out of my head. The food smelled great and looked fantastic, despite Stacey’s concerns for food quality in Stanmore. I heaped rice, a green chicken curry and a vegetarian noodle dish into each bowl and perched a spring roll on the side.
Stacey appeared a couple of minutes later, wearing her ripped pants again, and thankfully my erection was now well under control. I squinted at the tear at her knee and saw she had applied the waterproof bandage over her wound.
“Everything okay in the land of social media?” I asked.
“Yeah, we’re a media sensation. Everyone thinks we’re amazing. My phone blew up with texts while we were … when you were cleaning up my knee.”
I nodded, staring at our meals, unable to look her in the eye.
“Wow, dinner smells great. Thanks for serving it up. I’m starving. I didn’t even know I was hungry until I saw it now.”
Her stomach growled and I chuckled. “Sit and eat, Nurse Turner. You earned your supper tonight.”
Stacey sat quickly and paused, fork in the air.
“I have to remind you I’m not a nurse. Pam introduced me as an enrolled nurse, but as I said on your first day, I have one last assessment unit for my nursing diploma. So you really shouldn’t call me Nurse Turner. I’m really just ‘Receptionist Turner’.”
She took a bite of her food and continued. “I meant to finish it before I went away on leave, but I ran out of time and I think it’s too late now. So, please, don’t call me Nurse Turner. I haven’t earned that title.”
I lowered my fork. Could this be her dream that she spoke about at the racetrack?
