12. Reed
Chapter twelve
Reed
Little Devil:
Wyd?
I frown at my phone’s screen as I enjoy my break in the connected room of the ER. There’s a sad little table that holds my lunch and a microwave beeps from the countertop.
W-Y-D?
What does that mean?
This question may show my age, but what does that mean?
The text bubble pops up, and I wait patiently for her reply, my lunch totally forgotten.
Little Devil:
Lol, it means ‘What ya doing’? You’re so cute when you act old and clueless.
L-O-L?
Full sentences, please. I am old, remember?
Little Devil:
Laugh out loud, Dr. Dreamy.
Then why not just say I’m funny?
Little Devil:
Me, admit that I find a man funny??? IKYFL.
Thalia.
Little Devil:
I know you’re fucking lying. Don’t worry, babe. I’ll teach you. ;)
This woman.
She’s going to be the death of me.
I’ll teach you a few things if you don’t straighten up.
Little Devil:
Is that a threat?
It’s a promise. I’m currently eating my lunch, then I have surgery scheduled for two. I’ll be out of pocket for four hours.
Little Devil:
The communication is hot.
My head rears. Why wouldn’t I communicate with her? I don’t want her to think I’m ignoring her.
Of course. I can’t leave my girl hanging.
Little Devil:
The bar is in hell for me.
I scowl at my screen. It’s clear that Thalia isn’t used to chivalry, but I was raised old-school. Make your intent clear and keep all avenues of communication open. I don’t half-ass anything. Especially not when it comes to her.
You shouldn’t expect anything less than what you deserve. Which is to be pampered and spoiled.
Little Devil:
You say that, but I can be a total brat.
I chuckle.
Then it’s a good thing I know how to handle a brat.
Little Devil:
Those are fucking words, Dr. Dreamy.
Looks like I’ll have to come and scoop you up for our second date soon.
My eyes shift to the time and I curse before typing out a quick message to let Thalia know I’m heading to surgery. I tuck my phone back into my scrubs pocket before tossing my cold lunch and heading out into the main hall of the East Wing.
My walk is rushed as I follow the path to the OR. I’m distracted by the tall glass windows that lead out to the gardens just behind the facility when I bump into someone. My hands reach out on impulse, grabbing the poor woman’s biceps as I prevent her from dropping to the dirty hospital floor.
“I’m so sorry,” my apology is strained once I realize who it is.
Galene Harthwrite, the director of the hospital, is composed and professional in her appearance, but I can see below the surface.
She’s dressed in an ironed blouse with an expensive blazer buttoned just below her chest. The slacks she wears cling to her legs, leading to the tall heels she clicks through the halls in.
Beautiful diamond earrings dangle from her ears, and her neck is adorned in gold jewelry.
She’s the epitome of wealth and greed in the healthcare system.
Her painted-pink lips pull up into a sultry smile as she places her left hand over mine. Her wedding ring, a rock that’s massive and elegant, glints in the light shining from the windows. “Dr. Bellamy! What a surprise.”
I release her quickly, drawing back from her prying touch. “My apologies, Mrs. Harthwrite.”
She waves a hand. “Nonsense! It’s always a pleasure running into you.”
I give a distracted chuckle. “I’m headed to surgery—”
“I’m sure you’ve heard about the gala Burton is throwing?” She probes, ignoring my urgency.
“I have.”
Her smile spreads as her eyes flicker to my lips. “My husband is working that day and won’t be able to attend…”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I need—”
She cuts me off. Again. “Oh, you’re not hearing me, Reed.” She places her hand on my chest, her fingers curling into my coat as she gets uncomfortably close. “We should go together.”
I have a hell of a poker face, but not in this instance.
My lips twist as I remove her hand from me and step back.
“I already have a date, and I don’t appreciate you stepping over a boundary that I’ve put in place since I started here two weeks ago.
I respect you as my senior, but I won’t hesitate to report you to HR. ”
Obstinacy flashes in her eyes as she draws her hand back. “You’re so funny—”
“I’m not laughing, Galene.”
Her mask falls, giving way to the predator-like stare of a ravenous beast. “No, you aren’t, but I believe you may have forgotten that I own this hospital.”
“You own an object,” I sneer. “Not a person. Don’t mistake respect for obedience. It’ll be your downfall.”
Her eyes narrow. “Very well. I’ll crack you one of these days. I do hold your career in the palm of my hand.”
“Excuse me. I have to get to the OR,” I brush past her, shaking my head. That woman has let the feeble power thrust upon her go to her head. Her threat should rattle me, but all I can think of is how Thalia would react to knowing that a superior is regularly trying to force herself on me.
I can’t stop thinking of the raven-haired beauty all through my surgery. My hands move with methodical stillness, but my mind is elsewhere as I let muscle memory take over. The nurses and scrub techs move around me, conversing as I remain solely focused on my task.
The four hours pass quicker than I expected, and I scrub down before trailing back to the ER. I fish my phone out of my pocket, prepared to text Thalia that the surgery was a success, when her waiting message makes my blood run cold.
Little Devil:
Tell that bitch if she touches what’s mine again, I’ll cut her fucking hands off.
My head whips up, and I glance around frantically with a furrowed brow.
Is she watching me?
I blink before ducking off into a secluded hallway and typing out a message.
Are you here?
Little Devil:
No.
Somehow, I don’t believe that.
I dial her number, lifting my phone as it rings twice before Thalia picks up. “Aw, do you miss me, Dr. Dreamy?”
“Where are you?” I ask quietly as I place my hand on my side and peer out into the main hall.
She purrs gently into the speaker. “Wouldn’t you like to know…”
“I would,” I respond.
She hums. “So, is that an old girlfriend?”
I frown down at the floor. “Galene? No. She’s married and not my type.”
“Because you like them crazier, right?” Thalia giggles.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, cracking a smile. “I guess you could say that—hold up! Stop deflecting! Where the hell are you?”
“Why don’t you find me, Dr. Dreamy?” She suggests playfully.
I shake my head, my lips twitching. It’s so hard to keep my professional composure with her. “I’m at work.”
“I know you are,” she says dreamily. “Just know, I’ll be watching.”
“Wait!” The line goes dead before I can squeeze an answer out of her, and I shove my phone back into my pocket as I rest my head back against my shoulders.
I got myself into this mess.
I knew Thalia was a wild card, so I can’t blame her tendencies on anything else besides her nature. I also can’t lie.
She’s fucking thrilling.
When was the last time a partner kept me on my toes? Challenged me so much that everyday feels like a new fucking endeavor and not a continuous loop? This is all so new and exciting, and it has me slowly realizing that I’ve stuck to the safest route my whole life…
Have I been missing out on so much more?
As I amble through the halls, lost in thought, the questions keep coming. Even as I check on my charts and help Taryn with a combative patient, I’m still so lost in my mental back and forth.
“You seem distracted today,” my friend muses as she shucks her gloves off and washes her hands at the sink of the nurse’s station. “Any news I should know about?”
“Huh?” I mutter, pulling myself to the present.
She cocks her head, resting a hand on her hip. “Did you grow a pair and ask her out, numbnuts?”
“Oh!” I recover before shoving my hands under the water and lathering with soap. “I did.”
“And?”
I smile. “And we’ve been texting since then. There’s going to be a second date.”
Taryn shoves me playfully before shaking my shoulders. “Finally!”
I chuckle before pushing her away. “Okay, okay, don’t get too excited. This is all new.”
She wags a finger at me. “I know relationships, my friend, and this feels solid.”
“Oh, yeah?” I snort.
“Call me an expert,” she turns her nose up.
“Didn’t Emma ask you out first—”
“Shut the fuck up.” She whips around, stopping when she notices someone lingering on the other side of the nurse station glass. There’s a nurse from the general practitioner clinic standing with a tilt to her hips as she waits for us to acknowledge her.
“Casey,” Taryn greets, hiding her sneer easily as she pulls on a mask of cordial bliss.
The nurse taps impatiently on her clipboard as her head tilts.
Her golden hair is tied back into a tight bun, without a single hair out of place.
Her dark blue scrubs are something expensive and match her multitude of nursing accessories.
She’s well put together and also happens to despise anyone who works in the ER.
Casey clears her throat, flicking through the charts in her hand with clear displeasure. “Dr. Bellamy. You’re being requested in the clinic.”
The way she says my name is as if it doesn’t roll pleasantly off her tongue.
I can tell that whoever is requesting my presence has caused quite a stir among the staff in the general practitioner’s office.
They were probably clutching their pearls when their beloved Dr. Torres was rebuked by their patient.
It isn’t an unusual occurrence to have a returning patient ask for me. If I performed a surgery and they’re coming for a routine check-up, it would be highly odd for them not to ask about me checking their incisions. It’s a peace of mind thing, and one I never mind honoring.
“Of course,” I smile, to which the nurse turns up her nose and stalks back through the ER.
Taryn’s grin drops the moment she’s out of sight before she wraps her hands around her neck and pretends to strangle herself. I snort at her violent charade.
“What a bitch,” my friend sings sharply.
I give her a patient stare. “She isn’t a bitch—”
Taryn raises her eyebrows so high they hit her hairline. “Careful. Finish that sentence incorrectly and I’ll actually strangle you. You know it’s okay to talk shit about stuck-up people, right? It’s not illegal or anything.”
I deadpan at her. “Yes, I know it isn’t illegal. Casey is just…aggressively committed to being unpleasant.”
My friend’s eyes widen as she gives me a stupefied expression and sarcasm drips from her words. “Wow! So, basically, you found a way to still call her a bitch, but with extra steps!”
I stare at her before slapping my left hand over my side and sniffing as I avoid her judgmental gaze altogether. “Yeah, maybe I did. Fine. She’s a bitch. Are you happy?”
Taryn gasps playfully. “Reed!”
“You’re a child.”
She slaps a hand on my shoulder. “You know you love me! Hey, if you aren’t too busy tonight, maybe you can join Emma and me for dinner? We plan to drink a few beers down at the bar on Third Street if you’re interested.”
Usually, I would jump at an opportunity to drink and relax, but all I can seem to think about is when I can convince Thalia to join me on another date. I know I’m thinking too hard about this. I definitely wouldn’t call myself suave, but it’s like I can’t help it when it comes to this woman…
She’s slowly wrapping me around her pretty manicured fingers, and I don’t want it to stop. I also hate being away from her. Knowing that she’s possibly hanging around has me antsy to find her.
“I know that look,” Taryn croons with a smirk. “You’re thinking about Mystery Girl again.”
My neck heats as I give a low chuckle. “That obvious?”
She rolls her eyes. “Invite her, genius!”
My brows jump. “Do you think she’ll say yes?”
My friend smiles softly. “You really do like her. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you like this…”
I can’t keep my grin contained as I shake my head. “She’s just so…amazing. I can’t explain it, but being around her is different.”
Taryn chuckles. “You’re obsessed. Trust me. I was the same way when I first met Emma.”
They are the blueprint. I remember those long nights studying where Taryn would sneak off to the apartments on the other side of town just to keep her relationship private. I knew she was seeing someone, which made her coming out all the more comfortable.
She invited me to a coffee shop the day before finals, her whole frame wracked with nerves as I stood up at the busy counter trying to decide what I wanted.
“Reed,” she muttered nervously.
“Hmm?” I hummed absently as my eyes skimmed the menu.
“I…” Her sentence trailed off, followed by a long, stunted breath. I could tell just how hard that moment was for her, so I didn’t rush as I waited for her to speak. When she finally did, her words were so low and wobbly it made my chest ache for my friend. “I’m gay. And I’m seeing someone.”
I nodded, scrubbing a finger over my chin. “Cool. I can’t wait to meet her. Should I get two or three shots of espresso?”
Taryn blinked in surprise at my easy approval. “You—you’re okay with me being gay?”
My head reared as I finally met her gaze. “T, we’ve been friends since freshman year. I’ve always known you were gay. Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?”
Her eyes widened as she punched my bicep so hard I yelped. “You knew?!”
“Oh, please!” I smirked. “Just last year during homecoming you couldn’t keep your eyes off Amara Grey.”
“I just really liked her hair!”
“Keep telling yourself that,” I snorted before wrapping my arm around her shoulder. “Sexual orientation doesn’t change a single damn thing. I only hope you’re happy.”
Two months later, I met Emma, and the rest was history. I’ve known their endless love for eight years, and I find myself wanting that.
And I can’t seem to help that every time I imagine that for myself, there’s a certain raven-haired woman who makes an appearance in my daydreams. Everything is new, but Taryn knew the first time she met Emma that she was the one…
“Your patient is waiting, Dr. Dreamy.” My friend reminds me with amusement as she shoves me out of the nurses’ station. “Call Thalia and invite her to dinner!”
I chuckle as I backpedal towards the ER doors, feeling the lightest I have in a long time. “Wish me luck!”
“Don’t screw this up!” She croons.
I wave her off before making my way to the general clinic. Ruin this? I would be absolutely insane to mess up my chance with my Mystery Girl.