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Sloane

“Okay, so tell me how this happened. Were you swinging at a pitch from CC Sabathia?”

“Nah, I was just playing with some guys from work this morning. I guess I swung the bat a little too hard.” My patient flashes a smirk. “Besides, if it was a pitch from any of the Yankees, I’d have smashed it outta the park since they’re the enemy team.”

“Aha. So you’re a Mets fan.”

“Until my dying day.”

I smile at the handsome, dark-haired guy and cast a quick glance at the chart sitting on the foot of the bed. “Well, Gianni, it looks like you’re going to need a few X-rays to see if there is a tear in your rotator cuff. But the doctor will be in first to examine you.”

“Thanks. It’s Sloane, right?” Gianni’s face twists into a grimace as he shifts on the bed.

How the heck…? I furrow my brow and look down to find my name tag hanging next to my stethoscope. “Oh. Yes, it is.”

He nods, his dark eyes glimmering with a mischievous twinkle. “I gotta tell ya, I usually avoid Jersey like the plague. But you’re making me wanna come back again for a follow up. Maybe three or four. And then dinner if you’re up for it.”

I stop mid-scribble and look up to find a teasing grin on Gianni’s face. “What do you say? You got plans later? Can I take you out?”

A hot flush rises from my neck, spilling into my cheeks. “I, um, I’m very flattered, but I’m uh, seeing someone.” Huh. Am I even? It’s not like we actually talked about anything us-related this morning. I make a few notes on the chart and smile. Whatever. Hope springs eternal, right? “Thank you, though. And control that swing. You don’t want to have surgery on your rotator cuff. It’s a miserable recovery.”

He leans back against the wall, a lazy smile on his face. “You just broke my heart, Sloane.”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t say those words too often,” I quip, flipping his chart closed and sliding it into the holder on the back of his door. “The doctor will be in shortly.”

I pull open the door and walk into the hallway where doctors, nurses, and orderlies swarm the length, wheeling around gurneys, wheelchairs, and machines. It’s complete and utter chaos, and I absolutely love every minute of it.

Good thing, since I practically live in this place.

One of the other nurses, and my best friend on staff, Jules, sidles up next to me and lowers her voice conspiratorially. “So, another patient hit on you, huh?”

“I think he was just doped up on morphine to control the pain. He did a real number on his shoulder. Said he was swinging a bat. I can’t imagine what that ball looked like after he was done with it.”

“Oohh, does he need an X-ray? Can I do it? He’s hot, and if you aren’t interested…” Jules waggles her eyebrows. “Other people might be.”

“Go for it. He’s Italian. You’re gonna love his accent,” I say, mimicking Gianni’s voice.

Jules giggles and links her arm with mine. “So how excited are you about the benefit? I am really freaking proud of you, girl! You’ve raised so much money for The Buddy System and when you rock the hell out of your speech, you’ll get tons more! Especially those dirty old men who have cash to burn and love to watch your tight little ass wiggle around.”

I roll my eyes at her. Jules can be too much and just enough at the exact same time, and I love her for it.

“Speaking of tight little asses, did you pick out a dress yet?”

“I sure did! Low-cut, super tight, shows just enough leg. Don’t think I’m going to let the opportunity pass for me to catch my own sugar daddy.” She winks and waves to two of the residents as they pass us.

“Which one of them have you slept with?” I murmur.

“Both,” she whispers back.

When my mouth drops open, she shakes her head. “No, sicko. Not at the same time, thank you very much.”

Like I said, too much and just enough.

I snicker and stop at the nurse’s station. “Oh, so you do have limits. Good to know.”

I pick up the handset for the phone and start to dial when I hear my name. I look up with a smile. “Hey, Doc. I was just going to page you. There’s a patient in Room 2 with a torn rotator cuff. He’s going to need some X-rays after you examine him.”

Dr. Steven Kiley picks up a few charts and grins at me. “Thanks, Sloane. Hey, are you ready for the benefit?”

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