Chapter Five
Fallon
This is mortifying. Not only have I possibly broken a knuckle, but the man treating me is also the man I ran out on last night. God, if I knew I'd be seeing him again, I'd have at least smoothed out my hair.
I’m currently sitting at the nurses' station with a lovely lady called Julie, waiting for my X-ray results to be sent over. I have no idea where Luke has disappeared to, but considering where we are, the chances are he's working. He did say on the journey over here that he’d been working all day, so surely, he shouldn’t be working now.
“I can’t believe you punched Doctor Dreamy in the face. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall when that happened,” Julie says with a laugh.
“Doctor Dreamy? Is that really what people call him?” I laugh. I have been calling him that in my head ever since I found out.
“You would have to be blind not to notice how gorgeous he is,” she winks.
I laugh. But the funniest part is that nurse Julie is easily in her late fifties to early sixties. Luke seems to be everybody's type.
By the time Luke makes it back to us with my results, I’m chilling with a cup of tea that another nurse made me whilst I listen in to all the gossip on the ward. The smile on his face as he walks over to us makes my heart miss a beat.
With a tilt of his head, he beckons me over, out of the way of prying eyes.
“So, Miss Jackson. It looks as though you haven’t broken your knuckles; they're just badly bruised,” he says dramatically. “But… you have sprained your wrist. You will have to keep it strapped up and have a few days off work while it heals.”
Urg, that’s every hairdresser's worst nightmare. I can't work without my hand. And I can’t not work, especially now that I have all of Maya's clients as well as my own. I’m running behind as it is; clients are already annoyed with me for not getting them in quickly enough. Hopefully a day or two and I’ll be back at it.
“I can see your brain working a mile a minute,” Luke smirks. “You need to let it heal properly, or you could cause long-term damage and prolong the pain.”
“You don’t understand. I have to work.” I say defeated. I know he's right, I just wish he wasn’t.
“Can no one else cover for you?” he asks.
“No, the other hairdresser is away for a while,” I say distractedly. “I’ll sort something out.”
My mind wanders as I try to conjure up an idea.
I don’t know how I’ll do that, but if there's a will, there is a way. There has to be. Maybe Tommy or Max could help out? No, I don’t want to ask them for a handout with everything they’ve had going on.
Shit, what am I going to do? My mind is in a spiral of what-ifs.
“If there is anything I can do to help…” he offers.
“Hm, how are you with a pair of scissors and a bowl of bleach?” I ask, quirking a brow.
“Funnily enough, I’m quite an expert,” he laughs.
“I suppose you are. Is there anything you’re not good at, Doctor Luke?” I tease.
“Go out with me tomorrow and find out?” He asks huskily, leaning ever so slightly closer to me.
For a split second, I almost say yes. I really fucking want to say yes. But that wouldn’t be fair, I would only be leading him on.
With a sadness I can’t hide from my voice, I say, “I can’t go out with you. I’m sorry.”
“Can’t? Or you don’t want to?” He asks, his brows furrowing in confusion.
“Are they two different things?”
“Well, you could want to, but can’t because you have a boyfriend, which I know isn’t true.
Or maybe you’re part of a cult that would disown you for dating an outsider?
” He smirks cockily. “Or maybe, I was a complete letdown last night and you had to fake all your orgasms, and there is no way in hell you’re coming back for round two. ”
I choke on a laugh.
So not only is he drop-dead gorgeous, covered in tattoos, and literally saves lives for a living. He has to go and have a sense of humour too?
Good lord, give me strength.
“Did you not know? I’m a hairdresser by day, actress by night. I had to fake it all night long for you,” I mock, rolling my eyes.
“Then you are either a terrible girlfriend or live in a cult. What will it be?” he asks, his head tilting to the side as he studies me.
“I… I’m not good for you, Luke. Trust me, I’m letting you off easy.” I say honestly.
“Maybe, it’s you that should trust me.”