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Connor pulls up and slows the Harley to a stop. I climb off and smile at him, feeling suddenly shy. “Thanks for the ride,” I say sincerely. “Last night was great.”
In response, Connor grabs me around the waist and pulls me close. “It was,” he growls. “Itis.” He gives me a kiss that leaves me dizzy. “We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for, Katrina.”
“Is that what we’re doing?” I tease, but my heart leaps at his words.
“Damn straight it is.” He releases me and asks me when I’m done with my shift. “I’ll be back to get you after work. Meet you right back here.”
Connor drives off before I can refuse.
Not that I would.
I’m flying high on sex endorphins as I enter the ER for my shift. Christy is there on shift, and she immediately notices. “Um, Miss Thing, what is up with you lately?” she asks with a cock of her head.
“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling myself flush beet red.
“You are acting like the cat who ate the canary, as my grammy would say.” Christy is a transplant from Tennessee, and her grammy is apparently an endless supply of sayings and homespun wisdom. She peers at me harder and crosses her arms. “Okay, spill. I’m serious. I have told you all the drama in my life, including the guy I dated six months ago who turned out to have not one buttwowives. It is your duty and obligation to share with me.”
“It’s nothing,” I lie. “I just… had a pretty decent date last night.”
“Just last night?”
“Well…” I blush. “And, uh, maybe also this morning.”
“Is this still the biker? Hot damn!” She raises her hand up and makes me high five her. “Get it, girl! Good for you!”
Even Jimmy notices my good mood when I go out during my break to bring him a sandwich and sit with him. “You’re looking tired today, girlie. But in a good way,” he grins as he takes the wrapped egg salad on white from me. “Whatever cost you a good night’s sleep, it looks like it was worth it.”
“Um, no comment?” I laugh as I slide onto the bench next to him.
“Who is he?” he asks as he unwraps the sandwich, then stops and blinks at me. “Oh, shit… or is it a she? Shit, I know I ain’t supposed to be makin’ assumptions like that.”
“No, it’s a he,” I reply, and then when he starts to laugh I realize I’ve been conned. “Dammit, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
Still chortling, he points the sandwich at me. “Got ya, though, didn’t I?”
“Damn. Is it really that obvious?” I frown. “My nurse friend upstairs said the exact same thing as soon as she saw me.”
Jimmy chews for a moment, then swallows. “It’s pretty obvious,” he concedes. “But only because most of the time you look kinda… anxious, I guess. Preoccupied, like you got a lot on your mind. Today, you look free and easy.”
Well, damn. I’m not sure whether to take Jimmy and Christy’s remarks as compliments or not. Silently, I resolve to try to tame my resting bitch face a little bit in the future.
Eventually, the conversation steers toward other subjects. Jimmy goes off on a tear about a local politician’s calls to crack down on homeless encampments in the city. (“They treat us like trash, and like everything we own is trash. They kick us out and just bulldoze all our shit. Ain’t enough beds in the shelters. I ask you, where are we supposed to go?”) My lunch break is interrupted when I get an alert from the emergency department that I’m needed. I give him both of the packages of Oreos I brought for our dessert, and say goodbye before heading back upstairs.
The second part of my shift starts with a young child who has been admitted with a head injury. Time flies by as my colleagues and I swing into action, all of us working to do everything we can for this little girl. She’s wheeled into surgery and I assist as the doc places a brain pressure monitor, drilling a small hole in the skull and inserting the monitor. Then she’s admitted to the pediatric ICU.
When the doctor goes out to speak to the parents, I take advantage of a brief lull in the action to take a short walk around the floor to clear my head. I’m used to stress at my job, of course, but it’s always especially hard when the patient is a child. I’m rounding a corner going toward the main elevators when, to my surprise, my brother comes storming up to me.
“Quad!” I gasp. “What are you doing here?”
But he’s in no mood for small talk. He grabs my arm and pulls me into a small family waiting room, slamming the door shut. “What the fuck are you doing with Fury?” he demands.
Shit.“None of your business!” I retort, with more bravado than I feel.
Quad pushes me against the wall, squeezing my arm so hard it hurts. “You’re damn right it’s my fucking business!” he yells, so loudly that I shush him, but he ignores me. “So it’s true!” His eyes widen in angry disbelief. “They told me you were with him last night, but I didn’t fucking believe it.”
“Who told you?”
“One of my guys! You were seen on the back of his bike, you dumb cunt! Jesus Christ, how stupid can you be?” Quad is so worked up that flecks of spittle are spraying my face. I grimace and turn my head.
