11. Buster
ELEVEN
Buster
Wednesday, August 14
4:30 am
I wake with a start, my Apple Watch vibrating against my wrist. Darkness envelops me, and for a split second, I'm disoriented. Then I feel Cole's warmth beside me, and it all comes rushing back. I'm in her bed.
Silencing my watch, I carefully slide out from under the covers. I've got surgery first thing this morning, and I need to get moving. I hear Cole stir as I fumble for my pants in the dark.
"Everything okay?" Her voice is thick with sleep.
"Yeah, just gotta run. Early surgery," I whisper, pulling on my clothes. "Can I call you later?"
"Mhmm," she murmurs, already drifting back to sleep.
I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Her skin is warm, and I catch the faint scent of her shampoo. I’m tempted to crawl back into bed for a moment, but duty calls.
With one last glance at Cole's sleeping form, I slip out of her bedroom and reach the door. The living room is bathed in the soft glow of dawn peeking through the curtains. I navigate around Madeline's toys scattered on the floor, careful not to make a sound.
Once in the hallway, I take a deep breath. The events of last night replay in my mind as I walk the short distance to my apartment. I need to shower and change into scrubs before heading to the hospital.
As I step into my place, the stark emptiness of it hits me. Boxes still litter the floor, a reminder that I've only just moved in. But for the first time in a while, I feel a sense of home, of peace.
5:19 am
The peace doesn't last long. As I drive to the hospital, my phone pings with a new email. I glance at it briefly at a stoplight—it’s from Jake. My stomach tightens. He's got an answer from Lara and wants me to call him when I can.
I guess I’m not the only one working earlier than should be legal.
My grip on the steering wheel goes tighter, turning my knuckles white. Not now. I would rather have a peaceful start to my day.
If I call him at this hour, first of all, it’s too early. He can’t possibly be at the office already. Second, I know whatever he tells me will ruin the rest of my day.
The light turns green, and I accelerate, trying to push thoughts of Lara and her ridiculous demands out of my mind. Instead, I focus on the warmth of Cole's skin, the softness of her lips, and the way she looked at me last night. It's been so long since I've felt this... content.
But reality is creeping in, threatening to shatter this fragile peace. I force myself to think about my patient, Mr. Harrison. His surgery is complex, and I need to be fully present for it. I can't let Lara's drama distract me from saving this man's life.
Pulling into the hospital parking lot, I take a deep breath. For now, I'll compartmentalize. I'll be Dr. Hankel, focused solely on my patient. I'll deal with Jake's email and Lara's response later.
Walking into the hospital, I nod at the night shift nurses heading home. The familiar antiseptic smell and fluorescent lights ground me. This is where I belong right now, and this is what I need to focus on.
I head to the locker room to change into my scrubs, my mind already shifting to the procedure ahead. As I tie my surgical mask, I push all thoughts of Lara, the house, and even Cole to the back of my mind.
Right now, there's only the surgery. Mr. Harrison and his family are counting on me.
I step into the OR, the beeping of monitors and the hum of equipment filling my ears. "Good morning, everyone," I say to my team. "Let's save a life today."
9:38 am
After surgery, I have a little more time before my next procedure, which is a straightforward appendectomy. I could do those in my sleep. I can be in and out of a routine one in thirty minutes, an hour tops.
Quickly, I pull up James Harrison's chart on my tablet, my eyes scanning the latest updates. My heart sinks as I read about the minor complications he's experiencing. A twinge of doubt creeps in, gnawing at my confidence.
Could I have done something better? Did I miss something during the surgery?
I rub my temples, trying to shake off the nagging worry. It's not unusual for patients to have some complications after such a complex procedure, but I can't help feeling responsible.
Deciding I need to see for myself, I close the chart and head towards the elevator. As I descend to Mr. Harrison's floor, I go over the surgery in my mind, analyzing each step and each decision I made.
The elevator dings, and I step out onto the bustling floor. Nurses and orderlies move efficiently around me, but I barely notice them. My focus is solely on room 412.
I approach the nurses' station, spotting Carly Gunner, one of our most experienced floor nurses. "Carly, how's James Harrison doing?"
Carly has been here since my residency. She is spunky and always on top of things. I know she will give it to me straight.
She looks up from her computer. "What’s up, B?" She has been referring to me as B since we met.
I must look like the type of guy people want to give nicknames to because I must have at least five different ones.
"I was just about to page you. He's stable, but his blood pressure fluctuates more than we'd like."
I am nodding, trying to keep my face neutral. "I'm going to check on him. Can you join me?"
Sarah grabs Mr. Harrison's chart and follows me to his room. As we enter, I see him lying there, looking pale but alert. His wife sits by his bedside, her worried eyes meeting mine as we walk in.
"Good morning, Mr. Harrison," I say, forcing a smile. "How are you feeling today?”
10:11 am
As Carly and I step out of James Harrison's room, I feel the weight of concern settling on my shoulders. The hallway bustles with activity, but my focus narrows to the task at hand.
"Carly," I say, my voice low and serious, "I need you to run a full battery of tests on Mr. Harrison."
She raises an eyebrow, clearly noting my uncharacteristically grave tone. "What are you thinking, B?"
I lean against the wall, running a hand through my hair. "He's not recovering as quickly as he should be. I want to rule out any slow leaks at the patch site or other complications we might be missing."
Carly nods, her expression matching my concern. "Alright, what tests do you want?"
"Let's start with a complete blood count, coagulation panel, and comprehensive metabolic panel. I also want a CT angiogram to check for any leaks or abnormalities around the surgical site."
I pause, considering our next steps. "And let's get an echocardiogram as well. I want to make sure there's no cardiac involvement we're overlooking."
Carly jots down the orders on her tablet. "Got it. Anything else?"
"Yeah, keep a close eye on his vitals. If there are any significant changes, you should page me directly immediately. I don't care what time it is."
She nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I'm on it, Dr. Hankel. We'll figure this out."
As Carly turns to carry out the orders, I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the nagging worry. Something isn't right with Mr. Harrison, and I'm determined to find out what it is.
As I turn to head back to the OR, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I pull it out, my mind still swirling with concerns about Mr. Harrison, when I see Cole's name on the screen. A smile tugs at my lips despite the stress of the morning.
Thank you for passing along Aric's name. We've already spoken, and I feel like a thousand-ton weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I can’t think of how to repay you, but I would like to try tonight if you're free.
My heart skips a beat. Last night with Cole was... incredible. Unexpected but welcome. And now she wants to see me again tonight?
My cock twitches at the thought. I am not sure what exactly is going on between us, but I know it contradicts what we both agreed to. But I'm not one to try to interrupt the natural progression of things, especially when she has a rocking body and crystal blue eyes that melt my soul.
I lean against the wall, torn between excitement and the weight of my responsibilities. Mr. Harrison's condition weighs heavily on my mind, but the thought of seeing Cole again sends a thrill through me.
I'm supposed to meet up with Hunter to play pickleball and then go out for a beer. I have to rethink that one. Cole is much better looking than Hunter.
I’m so glad Aric could help. No need to repay me, but I'd love to see you tonight if possible. I have an obligation directly after work, but I shouldn't be out too late. I'll text when I'm heading home to see if you're up for company.
As I hit send, I can't help but smile. The memory of Cole's warmth beside me this morning, the softness of her skin under my fingertips... it's a welcome distraction from the stress of the day.
I pocket my phone and head towards the OR, my mind already shifting back to medical mode. I've got an appendix to remove.
6:14 pm
I wipe the sweat from my brow, my heart pounding as I face off against Shep across the pickleball court. The late afternoon sun beats down on us, but the energy crackling between us is electric.
"Ready to get your ass handed to you, Hankel?" Shep taunts, bouncing on his toes.
I grin, spinning my paddle. "In your dreams, Duncan."
Shep serves, the plastic ball whizzing over the net. I'm there in a flash, returning with a sharp volley. We trade rapid-fire shots, the hollow pop of the ball echoing through the air.
I dash to the left, stretching to reach a tricky shot. My muscles burn, but adrenaline courses through me. I manage to lob it back, catching Shep off-guard.
"Nice one!" he grudgingly admits, scrambling to return.
We're evenly matched, and neither of us gives an inch. The score ticks up: 3-3, 5-5, 7-7. Our competitive streaks are on full display, and each point is hard-won.
I see an opening and go for a powerful smash. Shep dives, his paddle scraping the ground as he barely returns it. I'm caught flat-footed, and he scores.
"Ha! Too slow, old man!" Shep crows.
Determined, I serve aggressively. We volley furiously, neither willing to concede. I fake left, then drop the ball just over the net. Shep lunges but misses by inches.
"Who's slow now?" I taunt back, chest heaving.
The game intensifies, sweat dripping down our faces. We're both surgeons, used to high-pressure situations, and it shows in our laser focus and quick reflexes.
At 10-10, it's anyone's game. Shep serves, and we engage in the longest rally yet. My muscles scream, but I refuse to yield. Finally, I see my chance and unleash a blistering shot down the line.
Shep stretches, his paddle just grazing the ball. It spins wildly, hitting the net cord…
I watch with bated breath as the ball teeters on the net cord, then falls agonizingly onto Shep’s side—game point. I've won.
"Yes!" I pump my fist in triumph, a wide grin spreading across my face.
Shep shakes his head, but I can see the grudging respect in his eyes. We meet at the net, clasping hands in a firm shake.
"Lucky shot, Hankel," he grumbles good-naturedly.
"Luck had nothing to do with it," I shoot back. "Pure skill, douchebag."
He snorts. "Yeah, yeah. Don't let it go to your head. I demand a rematch soon."
"Anytime, anywhere," I agree, still riding the high of victory. "This was fun. We should definitely do it more often."
"Agreed," Shep nods. "Speaking of which, you up for grabbing a beer? There's a decent hole-in-the-wall next door."
I hesitate, remembering Cole's text about tonight. But the adrenaline's still pumping, and I'm not quite ready to call it quits.
"Sure, why not?" I decide. "One quick beer."
"You got a date or something? Aren't you still living in the basement?"
"Dude, I got my own place. I told you. I closed last week."
"That's right. How is that going."
I laugh. "Honestly, it couldn't be going better."
We grab our gear and head next door to a tiny, dimly lit bar. It's the kind of place you'd walk right past if you didn't know it was there. Perfect for unwinding after a heated match.
We snag two stools at the bar, and I signal the bartender for a couple of cold ones. As he slides the frosty mugs our way, I can't help but feel content. It's been a while since I've let loose like this, between the drama with Lara and the stress at work.
"So," Shep starts, taking a long swig of his beer. "Spill the beans. Something is up with you."
I chuckle, taking a swig of my beer before answering Shep’s probing question. "Well, if you must know, I've discovered I'm neighbors with Cole Johnson."
Shep’s eyebrows shoot up. "Cole Whats-her-name? The hottie who owns Brewed Awakening?"
“That’s the one," I confirm, unable to keep the grin off my face. “Johnson. Cole Johnson.”
"You dirty dog," Shep laughs, shaking his head. "Be careful, man. Jumping out of the frying pan into the fire with these women. Don’t be signing over your car or 401k.”
“Fuck you, man. What about you? Made any headway with that old-flame patient I saw you drooling over?”
“Don’t try to deflect. We are talking about you, here.”
“Easy, Tiger.”
“I’m just messing with you. Just saying, you’re a lover, that’s all.”
I hold up my hands defensively. "Whoa, slow down there. It's nothing like that. We're just enjoying some neighborly good cheer."
Shep gives me a skeptical look, so I decide to come clean. "Okay, full disclosure? We had a one-night stand years ago. It made things awkward between us for a while. But now, it's like we've got a chance to start over, you know?"
I leave out the second-night stand…
"Uh-huh," Shep says, clearly not buying it. "And you expect me to believe there's nothing more going on? You must have one strong dick if you can keep that line drawn in the sand.”
I shrug, trying to play it cool. "Believe what you want, man. I'm just grateful for the fresh start."
Shep slaps me on the back, nearly making me spill my beer. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, Hankel. I give it a week before you're head over heels."
I roll my eyes, but I can't help the warmth spreading through my chest at the thought of Cole. Maybe Shep’s not entirely wrong, but I'm not ready to admit that just yet.