“You know the coffee in the cafeteria is slightly better, and that there is a Starbucks in the front lobby, don’t you?” A familiar feminine voice questions from behind me, forcing me to glance over my shoulder. Rylee Daniels, the owner of the prettiest pair of hazel eyes and a mouth made to fulfill dirty fantasies stares back at me and I forget all about the fucking vending machine that keeps rejecting my money or the cup of coffee I was so desperate for only a second ago.

Her lips curve into a smile and instantly I’m reminded of the dream I had last night or rather this morning. Those full lips wrapped tight around my cock, taking me deep until the head touched the back of her throat. The memory alone is enough to get me hard.

Shaking the image of her on her knees with her mouth full, I force myself to focus and watch her eyes slide downward, zeroing in on the crumbled bill in my hand.

“I bet you’ve been standing here for five minutes feeding that bill into the machine,” she adds, reaching for the lanyard around her neck, producing some sort of card. She unlatches it from the string and swipes the plastic through the machine.

“More like ten,” I counter, biting back a yawn. I didn’t get in until nearly six this morning. After the show, I sat down with Betty and explained Matteo’s condition, my sister’s situation and why I asked her for fifty grand before I took my clothes off and humped a chair to Zayn’s Pillowtalk. I’d like to tell you the old hag has a heart buried under her overly tan wrinkled skin but, nope the bitch is hollow. She did however offer to give me two more nights at the club and told me if I drew in more of a crowd on those days then she’d advance me half the money. With no other choice, I agreed adding another two shifts to my already grueling schedule.

“Black, right?” Rylee questions. Not waiting for my reply, she stabs the keypad on the machine and a second later it rumbles to life brewing me a cup of coffee. Spinning around, she winks at me and I get a waft of the floral scented shampoo I’ve become addicted to over the last two months. Another thing that gets my dick stirring.

“Thank you,” I finally reply. Turning away from her, I run my fingers through my hair and glance down at the noticeable bulge in my pants, willing it to fucking disappear.

“Matteo seems to be doing better today,” she says softly. “I just checked in on him. He managed to eat half a banana and a cup of pudding.”

Sadly, that is an improvement. Last week was a rough one. Matteo not only felt fatigued, but the poor kid gasped for breath every two minutes. Literally, it was so bad they had to raise his oxygen intake.

“Your sister looks like hell though,” she adds. “I worked a twelve-hour shift yesterday, and she was here for most of it.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m here so early. I figured I’d give her some time to herself before she has to go into work,” I reply, narrowing my eyes. “If you worked twelve hours yesterday what the hell are you doing here now?”

Handing me the cup of coffee, she turns back to the machine and swipes her card again.

“The boards are this week and I still haven’t been told if the hospital made a decision as far as offering me a job,” she says. A frown works her lips but, quickly disappears as she lifts her head and forces a smile. “Anyway, it’s no big deal. Well, except I have to shadow Patty,” she adds. The frown returns. “You know who Patty is right? Short brown hair—”

“I know,” I interrupted. In the last two months I’ve become very familiar with the staff here at Victory Memorial Hospital and I’m on a first name basis with most of the nurses and attending physicians that have been treating my nephew. I’m also on a first name basis with the pricks down in the billing and accounting department who won’t put his name on the transplant list.

Patty is Rylee’s Betty.

Taking a sip of the coffee, I watch her closely as she stares absentmindedly at the machine and I can’t help but wonder what’s going on inside that pretty little head of hers. There’s more to Rylee than her eyes and that sexy as fuck mouth of hers. She’s the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve and her emotions on her face.

“Boards are this week, huh?” I question, drawing her attention back to me and away from whatever is putting that frown on her face. In the time since Matteo has been in the hospital, I’ve paid attention to Rylee. In fact, it’s probably safe to say I’ve paid too much mind to the student nurse working her ass off day after day.

Speaking of that ass, it’s fucking fantastic and I shamelessly let my eyes wander toward it as she turns her gaze back to me.

“As fascinating as my ass is, my eyes are up here, Gio,” she teases with a smirk.

“It is fascinating,” I agree with a smile. Lifting the coffee to her lips, she rolls her eyes playfully and takes a sip before replying.

“Yes, the boards are this week which means me, and my fascinating ass need to get back to work before Patty has my head,” she says. Reaching behind her, she gives her ass a pat for extra emphasis and winks at me. “Tell Matteo I’ll stop in and bring him some pudding a little later on.”

“Will do,” I reply, raising the cup in my hand. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Anytime,” she whispers, shifting her weight from one foot to another before finally drawing in a deep breath. “I’ll see you later,” she mutters, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and smiling. For a second I think she’s going to say something else but before I can question it, she finally moves and steps around me. Leaning against the vending machine, I take another sip of coffee and enjoy the view, watching as she struts away—making those awful scrubs of hers look sexy as fuck.

Once Rylee is out of my sight, I push off the machine and down the rest of the coffee. Chucking the cup into the trash, I start for my nephew’s room and try to brace myself for what awaits me. It’s never easy taking those first steps inside and if I’m being honest, I’m always fearful when I do. What if one day I can’t fake the smile? What if one day I walk into that room and I break? I tell myself I need to be strong for him and for my sister but every single day I walk into that room, listen to those machines and see the life slowly fade from him, I struggle to keep it together.

Reaching Matteo’s room, I take a deep breath and push open the door. My eyes instantly fall on the center of the bed then to my sister who sits beside her son sobbing.

“Frankie?” I whisper hoarsely, starting for her. “What happened?” I ask regretfully, unprepared for any more bad news. My gaze sweeps over my nephew, toward the machines that are all turned on and working like they’ve been.

“He’s dying, Gio,” she whispers. “My baby is dying and there isn’t a thing in this world I can do to save him,” she adds, lifting her bloodshot eyes to mine.

I shake my head violently and step closer.

“He’s not dying,” I reply firmly. Her lips part to argue but I shake my head. “He’s not,” I say quickly. “He’s going to get a heart Frankie, and he’s going to live. He’s going to live hard and you’re going to watch him grow up. He’s going to do all the things you hoped he would. He’s going to play sports again, he’s going to climb trees, build forts and get into all sorts of trouble.”

“Gio, they won’t put his name on the donor list and he’s getting weaker and weaker,” she cries, wiping her cheeks. “How long am I supposed to make him suffer? Am I being selfish? I don’t know what to do for him anymore.”

“You listen to me and you listen to me good,” I tell her as I take a seat next to her. “You’re not being selfish and yeah, he’s struggling, but he’s fighting every step of the way. We’re not giving up, we’re going to get the money, they’re going to put his name on that fucking list and he will get a new heart.”

Taking her hand in mine, I give it a squeeze and force her to look at me.

“I spoke with Betty, she’s willing to give me a few more nights and possibly advance me twenty-five grand.”

“Gio—”

“We’re going to get the money, Frankie. Matteo is going to be okay.”

He has to be because as much as my sister can’t stand to lose her son, neither can I.