Page 10 of Trailer Trash

Oh, hell no!

Killian.

My eyelids spring open.

“Damn it,” I cry.

My orgasm vanishes, fleeing like a frightened rabbit slipping into its burrow, never to be seen again.

I drop the plastic rose like it’s junk. It has been two years since I’ve orgasmed. At this point, it isn’t just a bad breakup — it’s permanent damage. Even fantasizing about my biggest crush won’t get me there. Jaxson, one of only three guys in the nursing program, sat next to me today. He leaned on me playfully. He smiled at me as if he wanted more. Save me, Lord, because that man is fire.

And I’m dead below the waist.

Worse, now I’m late for nothing.

I finish showering and rush out of the door, frustrated and frankly, sad.

The hospital looms like a fortress in the night.

“Happy Easter. Back to the grind,” I say, glad I’ll be making time-and-half for working on a holiday.

I place the car in park, then glance around.

Good. Nobody is looking this way.

I crabwalk over the console to the passenger seat. It’s embarrassing, but the driver’s door doesn’t open. I’d love a new car. It’s on my vision board. Until then, this is my crummy ride. My face burns as someone walks by. Oh, well. At least it didn’t break down at a stoplight and leave me stuck in the middle of a busy street — like last week. That was beyond embarrassing.

Soon, I check in with the charge nurse.

“Good evening. Which beds are mine tonight?”

She shakes her head.

“Nope. You’ve been reassigned to the behavioral health unit.” She squints at the computer screen. “You’ll be sitting.”

I groan loudly. “One-to-one? Down there?”

I can’t believe I’ll be in the basement for twelve hours. The behavioral health unit is not fun. Patients can be erratic, violent, and mean. I never feel safe down there.

“Sorry,” she says dismissively. “Sign this.”

She hands me an NDA — a promise to be discreet about the patient’s identity, more so than usual. We have to sign them for high-profile patients.

“Please tell me it’s a celebrity.”

She chuckles. “The guy thinks he’s a celebrity. It’s the owner’s son.”

“Killian,” I mumble and sigh, exasperated. “I already signed one for him.”

He’s just another difficult patient. Nothing special that I haven’t dealt with before. The problem is, he’s an addict. I know I’m making assumptions, but after my ex, I can sense manipulation before it opens its sinful mouth. And despite his fresh scars, he is still far too handsome for any woman to be near safely.

Maybe I should’ve kept thinking about him in the shower...

No!

I can’t forget who he is. Besides, I’m not the only CNA in this hospital. He must’ve requested me. He was strapped to a bed, and somehow, he managed to put me exactly where he wants me.

The basement air is colder, stale, and too quiet between outbursts. I find the rich boy’s room. He was supposed to be discharged days ago. According to his chart, threatening other patients bought him a psychiatric evaluation instead.