AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What are your core focuses?” Dr. Swanson stares impassively at me with a self-righteousness I can’t stand.
Not killing you with my imaginary scalpel.
“ABCs,” I reply crisply. “Always.” I know this.
“And those are?”
“Airway, breathing, circulation,” I grit out. “She’s bleeding and needs the OR. I can’t fix a gunshot wound to the stomach, but my plan is to stabilize her so she’s able to make it up to the OR alive.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” she challenges with a smooth voice, though I can tell she thinks I’m about to crumble like a chip. Not gonna happen.
I take a steadying breath and force more of my weight into it to apply better pressure. “Secure her airway and stop or slow the bleeding while repleting what she’s been losing with IV fluids and blood. She needs to be intubated and have a central line placed.”
“Excellent. Philips and Brody, care to jump in and secure the patient’s airway and start a central line just as Miss Fritz directed? Layla, you continue to staunch the bleeding, but feel free to direct your peers since you’re the one running this trauma.”
Philips and Brody come in, and between the three of us, we manage to stabilize the patient—well, our simulator patient—enough to get them up to the OR. Last time I worked this hard at building up a sweat, at least I got an orgasm out of it.
“Good work today, everyone. Dr. Barrows asked me to remind you all that you have case studies due tomorrow.”
I groan as I twist my back to work out my stiff muscles. Between the simulator lab and working in the emergency room and the freaking stress that is my life, I’m a ball of tension and knotted sinews. The good news is I still have Stella’s cooking and the homework I plan to do at her restaurant to look forward to.
After our heart-to-heart last week and then going to the beach on Saturday, things have been easier between Callan and me. I’ve come home at a reasonable hour, and I haven’t been dodging him. Not too much at least. I still don’t think spending extra time with him is a good thing for either of us because we have so much freaking sexual tension when we’re together, and I do try to avoid that.
Especially when I’m in the house.
Callan, too, must recognize this because he doesn’t push and he’s great with giving me space. I’ve all up but taken over his office and he seems fine with that.
Other than some easy flirting and lingering heated looks that set my pulse on edge, we’re managing. Wanting the hell out of each other while doing a pathetic job of hiding it—but managing. My issue stems from the more I think about him and the more I see him, the more I like him. So I actively don’t think about him and I passively don’t see him more than required, and that’s that.
I can do the duck and weave for another two and a half months.
Stepping outside, I take a deep inhale through my nose. Freshly mowed grass and summer. I exhale a heavy, exhausted breath just as my phone buzzes in my hand.
Stella: What do you want for dinner or are you going to order from the menu?
Me: The menu is fine. You don’t have to make me anything special.
Stella: Damn, I was hoping you changed your mind and were going home to the hot doctor who is waiting for you with adoring googly eyes.
Me: He’s not waiting for me, nor does he have adoring googly eyes.
Stella: Any time you want to get off your crazy raft and stop floating down the river of denial, let me know.
Me: Quit meddling like your grandmother or I’ll give you a one-star on Yelp.
Stella: Ha! Cute, but you’d never bite the hand that literally feeds you. See you soon, slutwagon.
Me: See you soon, whorebag.
I skip down the steps of the building, but before I can get very far, I feel someone grab my hand and then give it a tug. A scream starts to peel past my lungs when another hand covers my mouth.
“Shhhh,” Callan breathes in my ear. “You want to get us caught? Come on.”
His hand falls away from my mouth and then he’s pulling me again, forcing me to race after him in the other direction from the T.
“What are we doing?”
“Going out for sushi.”
