Beyond Broken (7 page)

“Thank you.”

“I think I’d prefer the fangs to the needle.” He winced as I began to assemble the kit.

“I’m pretty sure the needle would be less painful,” I said distractedly.

“Hmmm, a needle or your lips at my skin? Difficult decision.” He grinned.

“Yeah, difficult choice. A few tubes of blood or losing all of it…” I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“But what a way to go,” he added.

“You don’t value for your life, you’ve gotta start working on that.” I speared him with a direct gaze. Glancing down, I tried not to respond when I touched his skin, pulling up his long-sleeved Henley, warmed from his skin. Dark brown hair curled over his defined forearms. Immediately I was aware of his breathing, the faint throbbing of his pulse as I tied the tourniquet. The minty scent of his breath invaded my senses as I leaned forward. Concentrating on my hands so they wouldn’t shake, it took me a moment to realize that his deep breaths were in rhythm with mine. My heart went against my will and began to thump wildly. What was it about him that made me lose my composure, my control?

“This shouldn’t hurt too much. Hold still.” I wiped the area with an alcohol pad and tapped his skin. I glanced up before I reached for the needle. Greyson was focusing on me with a strange intensity. I glanced down and tried to concentrate on a clean insertion, but his gaze was like a physical touch, searing me, forcing me to be aware of him when all I wanted to do was forget and walk away.

“Can you please not do that?” I glanced up, keeping my expression under tight control.

“Do what?” he asked in a low voice that was nearly as intense as his stare.

“Can you focus on something else? It’s a little…” I searched for the right word that wouldn’t give anything away. “…disconcerting when I’m trying to concentrate so I don’t make your arm look like Swiss cheese.” I went for the humor route, hoping to lighten the intense mood he had created.

Greyson closed his eyes and I glanced back to his arm. Carefully I inserted the needle, thankful that the vein didn’t roll. I continued to remove and replace the full tubes until I had all of them filled. After withdrawing the needle, I pressed hard on the puncture wound with a cotton ball and taped it over with white tape. After a large sigh of relief I glanced up.

“All done. That wasn’t so bad was it?” I sent him an easy grin and began to clean up the kit.

“Not bad at all. Did you know that when your concentrate your bite your lower lip?” he asked as I stood to toss away some plastic from the kit. I paused, furrowing my brow.

“You do. You divide your lower lip perfectly in half. And you said that
I
was distracting.” He raised an eyebrow.

“You were.” I tossed the garbage away.

“Is my food cold?” he asked after a moment.

I had completely forgotten about it, but that was the way Greyson worked. You forgot about everything else but him.

“I think you’ll be okay. It’s dry cereal, fruit and yogurt.

“I’d kill for bacon.”

“You’d hate for it to come back up though. You need to keep with gentler foods for your stomach. If you’re feeling good by next week, I’ll try to snag you some. Okay?” I took the tray to him and set it on the side table.

“A week is a long time,” he grumbled, but dug into his yogurt with zeal.

“Little steps.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved his spoon at me and then poured his milk into the bowl.

“I’ll be back later. I’ve got to take these to the lab. Dr. Solomon will be back later to discuss the results.” I stood and gathered the tubes to leave.

“Dr. Solomon—” Greyson began, but halted his words and studied me, searching my face as if gauging my reaction to the blond doctor.

“Yes? Did you have a question for him?” I asked patiently.

“No… never mind. I’ll see you later.” He turned back to his food.

“Okay.” I walked to the lab and turned in the tubes, making sure they were labeled correctly.

The rest of the morning was unexciting, thankfully. It seemed all my energy was required by only one of my patients, Greyson. As lunchtime approached, I went to the cafeteria and began to fill my tray.

“How was your morning?” Dr. Solomon fell in line behind me, pushing along his tray as well.

“Uneventful,” I said with a grin.

“Just how we like it.” He answered my smile with one of his own.

“Exactly. How was yours?” I asked.

“Fine, fine. We have a new patient coming in this afternoon. Depending on her condition, I might ask for your assistance since you’ve proven yourself an exceptional talent at IV insertion. I know you’ve been hired for the intern position, but after reviewing your file I know I’m quite comfortable with giving you quite bit of freedom.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure I’m worthy of that high of praise, but I’ll help however I can. What’s her detox?”

“Heroin.”

“Oh.” All nurses knew that Heroin detox was bad, the hallucinations, fever and other symptoms made it one of the few detox situations that required us to wean the patient from their addiction by giving them other narcotics till they can handle life without them.

“Yeah, oh.” Dr. Solomon gave me a sympathetic expression, full of compassion.

I continued to fill my tray in silence. After paying for my meal I turned and evaluated the cafeteria seating. There were plenty of empty seats and I walked over to an empty table by the window. The blue sky went on forever past the treetops with only a few scattered clouds. The warmth of the sun on my skin made me smile.

“May I sit with you?” Dr. Solomon asked, balancing his tray with one hand and large dish of ice cream in the other.

“Of course.”

He sat and slid his tray onto the table. The motion caused a large glob of hot fudge sauce to drip off his bowl and splatter on the tray. Raising my hand to cover my mouth, I hid a smile.

“What? I’ll share.” Dr. Solomon dug in, not wasting time with the small salad or chicken sandwich he still had on his tray.

“Dessert first?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“You don’t strike me as the type that eats supersized bowls of ice cream, let alone eats them before the healthy stuff.” I tilted my head and regarded him as I took as long drink of icy water from the straw.

He shrugged and licked his lips clean of the chocolate sauce. I glanced down, a warm tingling in my cheeks.

“It’s Wednesday. Wednesday is the only day I let myself eat ice cream. Because it’s such a controlled substance in my life…” He gave me a lopsided smile. “I always,
always
eat it first.” He took a big bite and closed his eyes in reverence.

I couldn’t help it, but began to giggle at his expression.

“You think it’s funny?” He gave me a mocking glare.

“Yeah, basically,” I said, eating a bite of my salad.

“And to think I offered to share. See if
that
happens again.” He smiled and took another bite.

“I wouldn’t want to take away from Holy Wednesday,” I teased, feeling more at ease than I had all day.

“Holy Wednesday?” The spoon paused halfway to his mouth, dripping melted ice cream onto the table.

“Yeah, you’re practically worshiping the ice cream as you eat it. It’s clearly a deeply moving experience for you.” I took a bite of my turkey sandwich and chewed, trying to not to smile at his obvious enjoyment of the treat.

“Holy Wednesday… I like it. Good work.” He saluted me with his spoon then finished his ice cream. “You know the best part about Holy Wednesday?” he asked as he took a bite of his salad.

“Ice cream?” The words were muffled by my hand as I replied with a mouth full.

“Nope, the anticipation and
then
the ice cream.”

“Ahh.”

“You know what the worst part is?” He leaned forward.

“What is that?” I wiped my face with my napkin.

“Waiting the other six days of the week, knowing it’s there but I can’t have it.”

“But at least you get it again,” I offered.

“There are few things more painful, more desperate than wanting something and knowing you cannot have it, Miss Holton.” His crystal gaze regarded me, warming me yet conveying a change in subject. We weren’t talking about ice cream any more.

I blinked, unable to respond, not knowing how
to
respond.

The rest of lunch passed easily, but my mind was still spinning from his earlier statement. I didn’t see myself as attractive. Honestly it was the last thing I was expecting to find at Willow and Oak. Though I was flattered to think that Dr. Solomon might be interested in me, it also made me uncomfortable. I wanted to be recognized for my dedication, my work. He was my boss, which made the whole thing more than awkward to even consider.

“Thanks for sharing your table, Miss Holton. I’ll see you later.” He rose and walked away.

Chapter Five

“Rough day?” Bekah asked as I dragged myself through our apartment door. I tossed my keys on the side table and put my purse in the closet after removing my phone.

“Yeah, you could say that. Although waking up five minutes before I had to leave wasn’t a stellar start to begin with,” I grumbled then flopped onto the couch next to her.

“Tell me about it.” She turned on the TV. “Hungry?” she asked after a moment.

“Not really,” I said, losing myself in the events of the day. Maybe I was really sleep-deprived, but today seemed so different. Simply thinking of Greyson was already tensing my body, as if I needed invisible armor against his charm, his magnetism. He drew me in and affected me in ways I had never experienced. It was almost overwhelming and it was all I could do to keep my attachment from showing, or from spinning out of control. There was no way to explain it.
Why is this happening so fast?
One thing was for certain; I had never encountered anyone like Greyson Bentley before.

Then there was Dr. Solomon. The man was such a mystery. One minute I was laughing with him over his ‘Holy Wednesday’ ritual, the next I was trying to read coded messages and wondering if there was more to his friendship than I originally thought.

Yet as much as both men confused me, it was just as likely that I was making it all up, reading into things that didn’t exist. Though I read people uncommonly well, I could be wrong. I could be putting myself through all of his anxiety for nothing. I shook my head. It would look better in the morning, after sleep. Lots and lots of sleep.

“Hey!” Bekah snapped her fingers in front of my face.

I jumped. “Yeah?” I asked, startled.

“What’s up with you? Are you okay? I’ve been asking you the same question for more than a minute!” Bekah turned on the couch and brought her knee up, a frown pinching her forehead.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just ready to crash.” I offered her a small smile.

“Okay… are you sure?” she asked, her amber eyes studying me like I was a bug in a jar.

“Yeah, I’m going to grab a granola bar and read for a while before I go to bed early. Like
early
early.” Though I knew I got plenty of sleep last night, I was wiped.

“Alright. Just…” She paused. “Just remember I’m here. I know you can’t share too much, the whole patient confidentiality thing, but still I’m here if you need to talk. Okay?” she said gently.

“Thanks, Bekah. You’re the best.” I reached over and hugged her, thankful all over again that she was my friend.

“No problem. Now get your scrawny butt to bed.” She gave me a pat on the behind for emphasis and turned back to the TV.

Once I was finished with the granola bar, I began to read. I awoke with the lights turned off, my alarm set and a blanket covering me as I lay the wrong way on my bed, the book still in my hand. I grinned, mentally making a note to thank Bekah in the morning. I tossed the book and went back to sleep for the few hours left before I started a brand new day.

****

The sound of my cricket alarm slowly woke me from my deep sleep. I stretched lazily and reached over to turn it off. My neck ached from sleeping without a pillow and I winced as I turned my head.
Fantastic
. Moving gingerly to avoid the prickly pain in my neck and shoulders, I dressed for the day. I said a quick goodbye to Bekah and left, hoping I could just use my mirrors in traffic until the painkiller kicked in.

By the time I arrived at Willow and Oak, the pain was less noticeable, but still present. I tossed the pills into my purse and walked in, inhaling the clean air. As I changed and walked down the hall, I had already convinced myself that all the drama, all the suspicions from yesterday were nothing but the product of an overactive imagination. I knocked on Greyson’s door without hesitation.

“Hey, Holton. Come in.”

I grinned to myself, but it was short-lived. Greyson was standing just beyond the door; shirtless. Immediately my mouth went dry. His shoulders were broad, solid and straight. The planes of his chest formed perfectly into a chiseled stomach. I glanced down and closed my eyes, praying when I opened them that he’d be fully clothed. It was hard enough to ignore his piercing gray gaze and full lips. Shirtless?
Heaven above
.

“You alright?” Greyson’s voice was closer, his warm breath fanned across the top of my head. I shivered.

“Yeah, fine,” I croaked and then cleared my throat.
Yeah, that won’t give you away.
But he didn’t seem to notice my slip up. I took a step back and bumped into the door. Greyson didn’t come any closer; rather he studied me.

“How was your night?” I asked, using all my effort to keep my tone professional.

“Not bad,” he murmured, sounding distracted as he continued evaluating me.

“Good. Any symptoms?”

“Nope. Rock solid.” He flashed a grin.

Indeed.

“Anything else? You should have had breakfast already. I arranged for another nurse to bring it so you wouldn’t have to wait.” I walked past him and into the living room, thankful to get away. It seemed crazy but the farther I walked away from Greyson, the colder the room seemed to be.

“Yeah, I got it. Thanks. But it just seems like an easy way to excuse you from your promise.” He leaned against the door and gave me a lazy grin.