Page 212 of The Doctors Will See You Now

“Yep.” I nodded. “Dr. Shepard had to give me stitches.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Nope,” I answered honestly. “Thanks to the numbing medicine he’d applied, I didn’t feel anything at all. Cool, huh?”

Once the bandage was off, both of us took a good look at the gash on her forehead. It was small and, thankfully, most of the bleeding had already stopped.

Scott turned to me. “What do you think, Ms. Paige?”

“I don’t think Josie is going to need stitches.”

“Me either,” he agreed with a smile.

“I’m not?” the little patient questioned excitedly. “I’m not going to need stitches?”

“Nope,” Scott said and tugged gently on one of her ringlets. “Looks like you lucked out, little lady. We just need to clean up the cut really, really good so it doesn’t get an infection and put a new bandage on it to protect it.”

“Oh, thank God,” her mother said on a relieved sigh. “I wasn’t sure, and I know I probably could have just taken her to her pediatrician, but I panicked when I saw all the blood.”

Scott nodded his understanding. “We’re glad you brought her in today,” he reassured. “Head injuries tend to bleed more than most, and since she’s so young, it’s always better to err on the side of caution.”

“Thank you,” she responded and looked at both of us. “You made this trip to the ER a lot easier than I thought it would be. You’re both fantastic.”

Obviously, I wasn’t a doctor, but her words hit me hard.

I really helped…contributed something.

Was it really too late for me to go to med school?

Scott flashed a knowing smile in my direction before whispering for my ears only, “It’s never too late, Dr. Paige.”

I feigned annoyance with a roll of my eyes, but I couldn’t deny that the day had put a bug in my brain. Could I really go my whole life without achieving my dream?

I honestly didn’t know the answer to that, but I did know I’d felt more invigorated by today than I had by anything I’d ever done at Gossip.

Four hours in the ER with Scott and I felt like I was falling in love with medicine all over again.

Maybe medicine isn’t the only thing you’re falling in love with.

Oh. Boy.

I grabbed my phone out of my pocket as I stepped out of the elevator on my way down from the OR.

A man had come in with an esophageal collapse, and we’d rushed him right in nearly the minute I’d started this eight-hour shift. It threw me off a little working a morning shift after working mostly nights—especially after staying up late last night with Harlow—but as soon as that guy had come through the doors in his friends’ arms, I’d been wide awake.

On a very important side note: Ever since I’d taken Harlow on a date to my ER about a week ago, late nights—aka lots and lots of sex—together have become our thing.

Neither one of us want to be the first to say “Uncle” to our aching tired bodies or fluttering sleepy eyes. These late night battles with Harlow are my new favorite pastime.

But the surgery had taken nearly five full hours, and after leaving Harlow sleeping in my bed this morning, I’d wanted to call her before lunch.

I had the screen on recent calls and my thumb hovering over her name when I got interrupted.

“Scott!” Deb yelled, running from the other side of the ER. Assuming her cry was as urgent as it sounded, I immediately dropped my phone back in my pocket, grabbed a pair of gloves from the nearest supply cart, and broke into a jog toward her.

As soon as we were within reaching distance, she swatted the gloves right out of my hand. I watched as they fell to the floor with a soft plop.

Um. Not emergent, then, I guessed.