I looked discreetly around before ducking into the bathroom and whipping out my phone. I rarely took any breaks during my shifts, so nobody could fault me for visiting here a couple of times a day regardless of why I was using the facilities.
“You’ve been running in here so often, Maria asked me to test you for a UTI.”
I gasped, whirled around, and smacked the man skulking in the center of the brightly-lit room as hard as I could. He laughed and made a show of rubbing his upper arm where I’d swatted him.
“Greg! What the fuck? You know I hate it when you sneak up on me like that! Shouldn’t you be out in the hall pretending to write important things down on paper while the rest of us do the heavy lifting? Speaking of lifting, how’s the house search going?” I knew there’d be no distracting him, but it was still worth a try. Greg was newly married and as financially secure as anyone carrying mountains of med school debt could be. I knew he and his wife were still trying to narrow down which houses to tour tomorrow morning.
He shook his head at me and reached out a hand. “Right now, we’re just surveying our options. Now come on, show me the video. This isn’t the sort of thing you can keep to yourself.”
I snorted at that. As if I could keep any of this to myself. But I usually watched videos alone, before letting everyone else see the best ones. Once our coworkers found out about the kitten yesterday, they stampeded whenever they saw my phone out. Everyone wanted to see our adorable little girl’s antics, although half the time they wound up watching Frankie watch over his kitten. Unless I was careful, all those nosy bitches would get me in trouble for causing a disruption. I was almost universally adored, but there were a couple of doctors who were immune to my charms.
“I haven’t seen it yet. I’ve got yesterday’s video cued up for comparison. I’m hoping–”
“Stop being such a helicopter parent and just have fun watching these videos,” Greg reminded me. And it was fun, in its own way. I loved seeing her get bigger and healthier and watching her, especially combined with John and Frankie, was too adorable for words. If John got confirmation that I studied these videos like a pro athlete watching game footage, he would start censoring them way more and we just couldn’t have that.
“It is fun. But I’m allowed to worry, you know? Working two nights in a row without a chance to see her? It’s driving me crazy!”
Greg smiled his humoring-the-lunatic smile and hit play. We watched the old video, then saw today’s twice for comparison, ignoring a few texts from Greg’s little brother as they played. There was no question, our little girl was adorable, but she still crawled around like the first air-breathing creature that emerged from the primordial ooze. One day that little kitten will be walking, then running, then leaping…
A knock on the door startled us both and I screamed like a little girl. “Tommy! Your boyfriend’s in bay 16 and needs seeing to!”
I, cool-headed nurse that I am, panicked. “What about the kitten? Do you think he gave it to his sister? How did he get here? He just sent me a video! Is that why Julian texted me? I should–”
I started fumbling with my phone, suddenly unable to find the text message icon. Greg squeezed my shoulder and pushed me out of the bathroom, steering me toward sixteen and whatever it held. There were a lot of people in there, banging into the curtain, but it sounded like a normal conversation in which nobody was in the throes of DKA, so that was good, right? A booming laugh exploded from inside and Greg stopped me.
“I think it’s your other boyfriend,” he said, laughter dancing in his eyes. “I think I’ll give you a few minutes to greet them and take vitals.”
I walked into the room to find three huge men, two of whom were drenched in blood. The one on the gurney, eyes closed, bellowed in falsetto, “You mock my pain!”
“Life is pain, highness!” I quoted, unable to resist a princess in pain. “Anyone who says differently is selling something.”
“And here’s your adorable boyfriend to save the day!” the clean man announced as I pulled a pair of stylish blue gloves. He was Julian’s boss, Maxim Domovik, CEO of Heimdall Security. The three men were all ex-Special Forces and could be scary as hell, but they were all good guys. The kids at the LGBT youth center referred to them as ‘The Security Dudes,’ but in my head, I called them the ‘Guard Dogs.’
“Wedding-prom date,” Inspector Gadget corrected, cheeks pink. His hand held a wad of gauze or fabric to the side of his head, and his eyes were closed against the light. Specter was a retired SEAL, tech genius, and my date for Chance and Logan’s wedding next month.
“I can’t believe I let you guys talk me into the prom thing,” Max groaned.
“We didn’t talk you into anything. It was his idea,” the third guy —Buzzard— said, pointing his thumb at me. The man looked disturbingly comfortable being so very bloody.
“Hey, there. Put that thumb away. It’ll be fun and you know it! None of you have been to your proms, and neither have I…” I argued. They all smiled sheepishly, and I knew they actually wanted to go. If they wanted to blame me, they could. We rented tuxes, hired a party limo, ordered boutonnieres, and my parents just volunteered to be the overeager-camera-wielders.
“Sparky and Q can be very convincing,” Max admitted. Sparky, being Julian Moore. Probably. And Q was… probably Quinn, Julian’s best friend, whom Max was still trying to lure away from the video game industry. From what I knew of Quinn, when he set his mind on something, he could be even more of a force to be reckoned with than Julian.
When I found out Max was still dating Julian’s cousin, and Quinn had invited Buzzard to the wedding, I decided to be outgoing for once and asked Specter to be my date for the middle Moore brother’s wedding. It would be my first time going to a Moore wedding with a real date, and I was pretty excited about it. The man was incredibly bright, endearingly shy, and could bench press two of me — seriously, his arm was as thick as my thigh. “But you’re the one who convinced Spec to join our little party.”
“Okay, now I’m guessing you got a head wound while slaughtering a pig?” I asked the big sexy muscle man who looked like he wanted to hide in a corner. I elbowed his friends out of the way to get to his side.
“A computer tower fell on him. He needs at least a half dozen staples and he’s got a concussion,” Buzzard shared. Staples sounded horrifying, but they were standard surgical practice for scalp wounds.
“Come on, honey. Let me see what we’re working with.” I urged my patient to lean forward a bit and let go of the gauze. “And tell me, how did Buzzard do this to you?”
“I had nothing to do with this one!” Buzzard protested. “A computer tower fell on his head.”
“Buzz just did the first aid, but either he sucks at triage or it’s too big for glue,” Specter muttered. He set his free hand on my hip as I looked him over, taking the gauze from his hand. It had been a couple of months since I last hooked up with anyone and I knew that the thumb rubbing circles against my hipbone should be triggering an embarrassingly visible reaction from me —I was convinced scrubs actually highlighted erections— but all I felt from Specter’s touch was mild tingles and I knew it would take some heavy-duty making out to trigger anything more.
“Oh, yeah, that’s a nice-sized gash there.” I took his hand and brought it back to apply pressure to the wound. I brought my hand to his jaw and tilted his head to look into his eyes. His pupils were the same size, which was a good sign. “Don’t worry, we won’t have to shave any of your beautiful hair.”
“It always grows back,” he might have mumbled, but I was distracted by Greg’s entrance.
I backed off so Dr. Moore could check our patient for signs of concussion, and went off for the necessary supplies. When I returned, Specter took my hand in a death grip while Greg cleaned and tended his head wound.
“Our badass SEAL’s a big baby, out of the field,” Buzzard teased.
“Sparky’s big brother is attacking me with a staple gun, and I’m not allowed to defend myself,” Spec pointed out through clenched teeth.
“So, Tommy… What have you been up to these days?” Buzzard asked in a conversational tone a serial killer might use to lure his victim into a sense of security. Although that level of creepy was probably due to him being covered in blood.
“My friend’s dog adopted an orphaned kitten. It still needs bottle-feeding, so I’ve been taking care of it at night whenever I can,” I told them. “During my next break, I can show you pictures. She’s the cutest little thing, and I know you like cats, Spec.”
“I like my cat,” he corrected. “But I’d like to look at your pictures. If you have time.”
“Max, if you pull on gloves and hand me things, Tommy can distract my patient so he doesn’t deck me,” Greg suggested.
As soon as Max donned protection, I slipped my phone out and showed him some pictures. He cooed appropriately, but I wasn’t sure how into them he was. He definitely flipped quickly past any that included John.
“Can you send me that one?” he asked when we came to a particularly cute selfie I took with her that first night.
“She’s so small she could fit in your mouth,” Buzzard chimed in while I sent the photo, realizing as I did that it had been nearly a week since I’d texted with my wedding-prom date.
“True, but I tend to store her in a pocket instead,” I told Buzzard, then stage-whispered to Spec, “Your friend is kinda scary.”
“That’s why Max drove us. We were pretty sure the police would get called if Buzzard walked in here like that, looking like an axe murderer.”
Spec’s friends began arguing about whether it was worth getting another shirt dirty when Buzzard hated to do laundry, just to make people they didn’t know more comfortable. Meanwhile, Specter’s hand returned to my hip, and I did feel a mild tingle that could become something more. I looked up at him from under my lashes and whispered flirtily, “Careful there. Scrubs don’t hide anything and I have to look professional.”
He hummed in response, but didn’t move his hand, and I told myself that it was willpower that kept me from reacting to his touch.
Greg was done pretty quickly and ordered an MRI, and I checked in with them over the next couple of hours until he was cleared to leave. When Buzzard suggested private nursing, Specter groaned and I apologized that I wouldn’t be able to take care of him myself.
“I suppose you’ll be very busy over the next few weeks,” Spec half-asked.
“Yeah, probably. The kitten won’t be fully weaned until just before the wedding,” I said, despite the fact that they wouldn’t really need overnight assistance at that point, and lord only knew how shaky my friendship with John would be. I really needed to give Specter a chance — he was perfect for me, at least on paper, and sexy as hell. I kissed his cheek. “I’ll definitely let you know if that changes. And text me anytime. Really.”
When we had a moment alone, I finally addressed all the looks Greg had been sending my way. “Specter’s a good guy, and I’m pretty sure I can trust him. He’s a straight-shooter.”
“And Trip?”
“He’s my friend. That’s the most he’ll ever be.” Those were John’s own words but I agreed, although for different reasons. At Greg’s raised eyebrow, I reminded him, “John lied. You know how I feel about lying. I deserve to be with someone who’ll always be honest with me, and respect me enough to let me cope with the truth.”
My best friend nodded and put his arm around me. “You do. And I’m just as wary of Trip as you are — I hate that he hurt you like that. But he seems to have learned his lesson, and you’ve been happy ever since you became friends with him again.”
I leaned against him and sighed. I hated being in limbo, but at least I’d get some sort of closure when it came to John. We’d be friends, nothing, or more after all the forced contact. “I’m just going to go with the flow and see what the next month will bring.”