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“It’s fine. I understand. Besides, I’m certain, we’ve never met before.”
He gives me a curious stare that tells me he thinks I’m wrong, and the way he narrows his eyes, truly trying to figure it out, has me desperate to run away like a little bitch. For him to recognize my face means he has checked his Tinder account, probably even searched my profile as well, but he still didn’t respond.
“Anyway, unless you need anything for your daughter, I should really get going,” I tell him. “We’ve got a busy ER tonight.”
“Oh, of course,” he says, taking a hesitant step back, clearly knowing I’m lying. After all, his daughter was the only patient when he walked in. “I won’t hold you up.”
With that, he gives me a forced smile, and I find myself wondering what a real smile would look like from him, but knowing I can’t get carried away, I quickly excuse myself and turn on my heel, all but running back down the hall. I take a risk and peek back over my shoulder to see him still looking after me, trying to figure it out, and as he catches my stare, my cheeks flush a bright shade of red.
Shit. What is wrong with me?
Scurrying away, I get my ass back down to the ER, and seeing that everything is calm and under control, I deem it safe to finally take my break. The second I finish annihilating my food, I pull my phone out and hash out a text as I relax back in the nurses’ break room, counting down the hours until I can get out of here.
Gigi – Dude. The Tinder guy is here. He’s fucking dreamy. What are the fucking chances?
Her reply comes through almost instantly, and I realize she must be playing on her phone, probably swiping through Tinder looking for tonight’s sausage. There’s no stopping this girl when she’s hungry for dick.
Mel – Take him to the on-call room and fuck him sideways.
I practically snort my lemonade all over the table while trying not to laugh like a damn hyena.
Gigi – Sorry, I’m not a slutty whore like you.
Mel – You only wish you were. Go talk to him. Get his number.
Gigi – No, he’s got his kid with him. She’s absolutely gorgeous by the way. And besides, he didn’t respond to the whole Tinder thing. He’s not interested.
Mel – Of course he has a gorgeous kid, she has his DNA. Believe me, any guy would be stupid not to be interested in you. But before you start hitting that, make sure there’s no ring on his finger. Where there are kids, there’s usually baby-momma drama.
Gigi – Ughhhhhh. I didn’t even think about that. Just my fucking luck, right?
Mel –I mean . . . I’d still hit it.
I’m about to respond when a new patient comes through the ER doors, and I shove my head out the break room door to see what’s going on. Realizing I’m going to be needed, I drop my phone into my pocket and get back to work. After all, helping people is what I love to do. I just wish my newest patient wasn’t struggling with a gastro bug.
I busily get on with my duties as another three gastro patients come through the door, and I realize tonight will be longer than I ever anticipated. A gastro outbreak is exactly what we need floating around here.
Four hours later, my shift is over, and despite knowing Georgia is being carefully cared for upstairs, I find myself wandering back up to check on her one last time. Georgia’s chest needs to be listened to and we need to make sure she doesn’t go spiraling into her fifth asthma attack for the night, or maybe I’m just making excuses to see Sean one last time.
Stepping into her room, I find Sean sitting up in the bed, wide awake with Georgia wrapped in his arms. I take in the exhausted little girl in his arms and it breaks my heart. Her little eyes flutter, and she moans in her broken sleep, trying to snuggle even closer to her daddy, and for some reason, I find myself growing attached to this beautiful little girl that I only met a few hours ago.
I give Sean a tight smile. “How’s she doing?” I ask, picking up her chart and double-checking that she’s getting everything she needs.
“Better now,” he murmurs, his voice so low I can almost feel the vibrations right through my chest. “Thanks to you.”
He holds my stare, and I fumble for a moment, forgetting what the hell I’m supposed to be doing. “I, umm . . . I was just doing my job,” I tell him. Hooking the chart back over the end of Georgia’s bed, I glance up and meet that intense stare. “I’m just finishing my shift for the night, but I’m glad your little girl is doing better.”
