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Authors: Jay Crownover

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BOOK: Nash
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apologize.”

“Apologize for what?”

“At this point I feel like I need to apologize to her for simply existing. Thanks for dragging me out of

my stupor.”

“Anytime. I’ll meet you at the truck. I need to call Shaw. She still hasn’t told her parents about the

wedding. I don’t care one way or the other if they’re going to come or not, but I know Casper well enough

to know she’ll feel guilty if she doesn’t at least give them the opportunity to prove they aren’t horrible, even

though we all know they are.”

I snorted because he wasn’t kidding and because it still made me laugh when he used his nickname for

Shaw. Her super white-blond hair lent itself to the endearment. His words were also a harsh reminder that I

wasn’t the only one that had seriously screwed family dynamics. The building blocks that made me who I

was as a person were changing, being rearranged and placed in different places. I wasn’t scared of change,

one look at my body and anyone could see that … what I was terrified of was having to look back and see

that my mom giving me up … letting me go, had nothing to do with a broken heart left from a deadbeat

dad, but everything to do with me and the fact I wasn’t what she wanted. It had to do with the fact that I

just wasn’t good enough, and even though I had long since made peace with never meeting her standards, it

still left a mark.

CHAPTER 4

Saint

The little boy I was working on was just too cute. He was probably only five or six and the gash he had

on his head was pretty nasty, but he seemed to be taking it in stride. The mom was a hysterical wreck, like

they all tended to be when their babies got hurt, but a couple of stitches later and the advice to get some

Tylenol and have the child wear a helmet when he was riding his bike and they were on their way. Of

course I had to scrounge up a sucker to give the young patient. I couldn’t stand seeing him leave without

some kind of smile. Working on little kids was hard, but it always made my insides happy when I could fix

them up and send them on their way with their tears dried up.

I snapped off my surgical gloves and nodded at the attending ER doctor as he moved on to the patient

in the next room. It was flu season, so we were running at a pretty steady pace, not to mention the colder

weather had the homeless population in and out dealing with a variety of weather-related injuries and

symptoms. I always had to be on my toes, never knowing what was around the corner, which made my

days move quickly and kept my job challenging and interesting. However, when I came around the corner

and saw a familiar tall, dark figure leaning against the intake desk, I had to pause and decide if I wanted to

turn around and run the other way before he caught sight of me. Nash wasn’t a challenge I particularly felt

up to dealing with today.

I was irritated at him for acting so selfish while someone close to him was suffering, but more than that,

I was furious with myself for giving in and getting involved when I knew better. I was also peeved that

even though he rubbed me all kinds of the wrong way, the kiss he had forced on me had had me tossing

and turning in bed at night, and if I concentrated hard enough, I could still taste the imprint he had left on

my mouth. Ugh … why did he have to be so memorable in every possible way?

I narrowed my eyes and straightened my shoulders as I headed toward him. The nurse behind the desk

was gazing up at him with a look I could only describe as awed. She was probably a decade older than me,

had four kids, and her husband was a cop, but that didn’t stop her from falling into the charismatic snare

that Nash seemed to so effortlessly weave around the opposite sex.

“What are you doing down here? Your dad is on the top floor.” I saw him wince when I used the word

dad,
but I refused to feel bad about it. I had trouble with tripping over words and saying what I really

meant with people, but for some reason none of that was a problem when I spoke to him.

I tossed the paperwork I was holding to the admitting nurse and crossed my arms over my chest as he

turned so that he was facing me. The baseball hat he was wearing cast the top part of his face in shadow,

but I could see he had dark circles under each eye and that there were fine white lines of tension bracketing

each side of his mouth. All in all he looked a lot better than the last time I had seen him. Well, better, minus

the fact he was fully clothed, and even though I didn’t want to, I could still picture him half naked in vivid

detail. I really did want to know what the front part of that massive tattoo was attached to on the backside.

“Do you have a minute?” His voice was kind of gruff but he softened the question with a half grin that

made my heart trip.

“Not really. We’re pretty hectic today. The weather makes people go nuts, so we’re extra busy.”

He sighed and shifted so that he could shove his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Out of the corner

of my eye, I noticed the other nurses floating in and around the desk watching us with open curiosity.

“It’ll just take a second, please, Saint.”

I didn’t really think big, tough, tattooed guys used words like
please,
not that it was going to sway me.

He had an unwanted effect on me and I knew it was a good idea to keep my distance from him. Just as I

was about to refuse, the other nurse behind the desk, the one that was clearly smitten with his handsome

face, offered up, “I’ll take the next room that just came in. You go ahead and take a breather for five

minutes.”

I wanted to shift my glare to her, but she was just trying to be helpful, so I bit my lip and tilted my head

toward the waiting room. There were more private places in the hospital I could have led him to, but being

alone with him made me nervous and anxious.

“Follow me over there.”

He nodded and did as I asked. I felt the way his gaze burned into my back, and had to take several

calming breaths and make sure I schooled my face into an impassive mask before I turned around to face

him again. He sighed and used one broad shoulder to prop himself up against the coffee vending machine I

had stopped by. We just stared at each other for a long moment. I was about to throw my hands up and

walk away because the silence and his intense gaze gave me anxiety, when his quiet words surprised me.

“Phil’s condition is really bad. He told me there isn’t anything they can do. He’s dying and he just seems

to be rolling with it, I don’t know how. I should have been here sooner.”

His tone was somber and his eyes under the dark bill of his hat had lightened to the shade of lilac. I

could see how glassy they were, how much emotion he was trying to swallow down, and it took every

ounce of self-control I had not to reach out and touch him, to try and soothe him. He wasn’t a wild animal

that needed to be gentled … even if he kind of emanated that vibe.

“I’m sorry. Stage four is ugly and has a terrible prognosis no matter what kind of cancer it is.”

He nodded jerkily and tossed his head back on his neck so that he was peering down at me from under

the brim of his ball cap.

“I’m sorry about the other night. I was really drunk, my shit was all over the place, and I swear I’m not

usually that kind of guy. It was very nice of you to come over and check on me, and I acted like a dipshit. I

just wanted to apologize, to tell you thanks.”

I was dumbfounded. That wasn’t what I was expecting from him, so I just stared up at him like a

moron. He must have taken my silence as a rebuff because he pulled his hat off and scraped one of his

hands roughly over the top of his shaved head. His dark eyebrows dipped down low over those fabulous

eyes and his nostrils flared out a little. With that piercing he had in the center of his nose, it kind of made

him look like an angry bull.

“Cut me some slack here, Saint. My life went sideways and this shit has been hard to deal with. I know

you don’t like me, so it was extra nice of you to swing by. What I don’t know is
why
you don’t like me.”

I jolted back and dropped my defensive stance. Sure, I had my reasons for being standoffish and

keeping my distance from him, but I had never meant to make my discomfort and unease around him

totally palpable to others, especially to him. The last thing I wanted was to relive that moment, either of

them. There was no way I was ever going to tell him that his dismissal, his harsh words, had forever

changed me, forever changed how I looked at the opposite sex. It was humiliating and obviously way more

memorable to me than it was to anyone else. If he had no recollection of it, I wasn’t going to remind him.

He gave his head a shake and put his hat back on his head. He pushed off the vending machine and

shrugged the wide expanse of his shoulders.

“All righty, then. I’ll steer clear of the ER if I can avoid it because clearly I make you really

uncomfortable. I just wanted you to know that I appreciated you reaching out when obviously you would

rather poke your own eye out with a dull spoon. You’re a really nice girl, Saint. I’ve always thought you

were.”

He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up over his hat and turned around and walked away from me.

Once he was out of sight, I had to put a hand on my pounding heart inside my chest and concentrate on not

hyperventilating. He always thought I was nice? Then how could he have encouraged me, urged me to go

out of my comfort zone, and then act as though I didn’t exist? Heck, kiss another girl right in front of me

when I thought he was there for me? How could he say those hateful things that made me feel ugly and

worthless to this day? Pretty boys shouldn’t try to hurt nice girls … at least in a perfect world they

shouldn’t.

I didn’t get any more time to dwell on it because one of the nurses came flying around the corner

frantically looking for me.

“Crash on the interstate. Four cars involved, multiple injuries coming in. They need at least four rooms

prepped, if not more. The ambulances are three minutes out, so it’s all hands on deck.”

I didn’t have time to worry anymore about Nash or the past or how off balance any time I was face-to-

face with him made me. I shoved it all aside and settled firmly into the role I was most comfortable in. Here

I had no questions, no doubts, I wasn’t shy or hesitant, I was confident and secure. I just went to work and

did what I did best … helped other people.

It was a long and grueling shift. I had to stay late because after we had the accident victims taken care

of, we had a fire, another accident, and not one, but two gunshot wounds. It was hectic and chaotic, and I

appreciated that it gave me the chance to push aside all my emotions from my recent run-ins with Nash and

categorize them as trivial and fleeting.

I was walking out, dragging my feet and unwinding my long hair from the tight bun on the top of my

head, when I ran into the only person outside of my sister who I considered a friend here in Denver.

Sunshine Parker was the assistant nursing director, my boss, and probably the most honest and forthright

person I had ever met. She was just a tiny little thing, part Filipino, with jet-black hair and a smile that went

on for days. She had made the transition to this emergency unit bearable considering all my weird social

hang-ups that often made settling into a new environment challenging. She was a few years older than me,

totally dedicated to her career and to helping people in need. I so wanted to follow in her footsteps. She

was just like me, only she had no problems talking to people or interacting like a normal person. She also

wasn’t struck dumb by simple conversation.

“Hey you. Rough day?”

I was rubbing my fingers hard into my scalp where my hair had been trapped, and had to admit I was

exhausted. Today I’d seen an excessive amount of blood and guts, even for an ER, and my short

conversation with Nash had worn me out. I felt awful for him and what he was going through, but it also

grated on my nerves that I cared at all one way or the other. I wanted to be immune to him. Only that didn’t

seem to be an option my hormones were allowing.

“I’ve had better. It was a busy one.”

She tossed her blanket of shiny hair over her shoulder and cocked her head at me.

“You are an amazing nurse, Saint.”

Those kind of compliments I could take. I grinned at her and pulled out my phone as it started to ring.

The display showed my sister’s face, so I silenced the call and shoved the phone in my pocket. I loved

Faith, hard, but lately the only time she called me was when something was up with our parents, more

specifically our mom, and the drama could wait for a second.

“Thanks, Sunny. That’s always nice to hear, and coming from you it means a lot.”

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