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Fifty-two was lower than it'd been last year. I didn't know how much it was, but I did know, thanks to my mom's spreadsheet, that I'd been almost fifty-five grams at my previous appointment.
Shit!
"We're going to be in room two today," Sally said and walked down the hall.
I nodded and followed her, only glancing back in the direction of the vending machine one more time.
Men and chocolate,I thought. No doubt both tasted delicious. At least I'd had chocolate a decade ago and could almost remember the flavor. Men, or more specifically, one man. Someone to love who would love me back? Oh, the things I wanted to do to him.
FOUR
Vending Machine
RUSH
I satoutside a hospital room while Clint got seen by the doctors. Stupid fuck had wrecked his bike and his body. Apparently, I was his emergency contact. I'd called his girlfriend, Amberlee but she hadn't picked up her damn phone.
At least he’d had his leathers on. What had I said about riding in the rain? But Clint was arrogant and stubborn and didn't listen. So here I was, in a fucking hospital.
I didn't like being here.
They gave me the creepy chill factor, which probably stemmed from all the time I spent here as a child. Not for myself but when I visited my sister. She didn't make it, and I'd blamed the fucking hospital for that. Still did, though I'd grown up a lot in the last twelve or so years. Hospitals were necessary. Blah. Blah. Blah.
But sitting here was testament to my respect for my friend. The fucker. At least he was alive, which was a plus. When the call came through, I thought it was going to be otherwise.
Yawning, I stretched, too tired to make myself comfortable, trying to forget the smells lingering around me and all the depressingly sick people. My eyelids were heavy, which was no surprise. I’d been here since I got the call and hadn’t slept.
I stirred myself when a nurse breezed out of Clint’s room. “How’s he doing?” I asked as I jumped up and ran a hand through my mussed-up biker's hair. The drawback of riding was that if you didn’t want a man-bun or a buzz cut, you’d walk around with hair issues most of the day.
“Are you family?” she queried.
“Sort of.”
If Clint had family, he hadn't mentioned anyone.
The nurse glanced me over.
Before rushing to the hospital, I'd had the good sense to shower and change into clean clothes. Dark jeans. My favorite boots. A dark shirt and my leather jacket.
Finally, her gaze settled on my face. “Clint is going to require surgery. Are you able to fill out some forms for him?”
I kept my face neutral. If I said no, they might make me leave before I got the chance to check on him. "Sure," I finally said, hoping I wouldn't have to rifle through the recesses of our office to find important paperwork.
“Perfect.” Another sweep of her dark eyes. “Mr—” She paused, waiting for me to fill in the blank.
“Norton.” I gave her a wide smile. She was cute.
“You’d better go in. He’s already whining that he’s bored. I don’t think he realizes he’s going to be laid up for quite some time."
I pulled a face, working not to think selfishly about the situation. Yes, Clint's accident would affect me and the business, but I needed to be supportive. “That bad huh?”
“That's what happens when you ride a bike too fast in the rain.” She rolled her eyes like she thought he was an idiot.
“I couldn't agree more. I even told him so.” I sent her another smile. She was young and beautiful. I thought about asking her out for drinks after her shift and hesitated a moment. It'd been too long since I'd been with a woman. At that moment I decided saving myself was a stupid move.
"Anything else you need?" she asked and ran a hand over her arm. It was then I noticed a ring on her ringer.
Married. Damn. My self-inflicted drought would continue. "Nope."
