Five
ALYSSA
IAUDIBLY SIGH as I take a seat at the nurses’ station.
I feel like I’ve been on my feet for ten hours straight, probably because I have been.
Saturday shifts are always the busiest in our ER; it seems everyone saves their injuries and illnesses for Saturdays.
Today, the ER has been packed with a range of cases, easy and boring cases, but busy all the same.
I’ve seen at least twenty kids ranging from babies to seven-year-olds with a series of really superficial boo-boos, alongside mothers who don’t seem to know how to work a Band-Aid.
It seems I studied for four years to apply ointment and bandages to kids’ boo-boos while ensuring their mothers that their child does not have a broken bone and does not require stitching.
In a way, I guess it’s sweet and nice to know that there are mothers out there who care a lot about their child’s wellbeing.
But a child having a scraped knee, bruised arm, or small scratches from falling over does not mean you need to rush them to emergency because their life is in danger or their bones are broken.
Yeah, they should go to their regular doctor and stop running down to the hospital’s emergency room.
On top of the kids with boo-boos, there were five kids who came in with actual broken bones.
Those I liked, not because their bones were broken, but because the parents were usually thankful once their child was doped up enough to stop crying out in pain.
These cases were straightforward—keep the patient comfortable until the doctor can see them.
Send them for x-rays, send them to the orthopaedist to get a cast put on, and send them home. See? Simple. Boring, but still simple.
Finally, having five minutes to sit down, my mind drifts to Zac.
Hot, sexy, all male Zac, otherwise known as Mr. GQ—well, in my head that is.
What I wouldn’t do to get him on a bed. I mentally curse myself for where I’ve let my thoughts go.
It will never happen I tell myself; men like Zac do not go for girls like me, your everyday, girl-next-door type.
I’ve never had a man take such good care of me.
No one has ever walked around the car to open the door for me before—not that I could figure out how to open the contraption he calls a car, anyway.
I think about the way he leaned over to put my seat belt on for me, the way he stopped to buy me breakfast…
Men like Zac did not exist in the real world.
There has to be a flaw; no man can be that perfect.
As hard as I try to identify any flaws in Zac, I’m coming up blank.
There is nothing, literally nothing, I would want to change about him.
I wonder what he got up to today… I wonder who he’s with… No, Lyssa, stop it, I scold myself. No good will come from daydreaming of the “never going to happen” Zac.
Trying to clear my mind, I take a deep breath and take stock of my surroundings.
The smell of antiseptic and sanitizer assaults my nose.
The sound of machines beeping, kids crying, the synchronised sounds of coughing, the elevator doors opening and closing, feet shuffling.
I can see the rows of beds separated by blue curtains, colleagues putting on and taking off gloves as they enter and leave each patient’s section.
Yep, I’m at work. No time to dwell on hot AF Zac.
Needing a distraction, I pull my phone to check for any missed calls or messages. It’s the first time I’ve looked at it all day. I open my text message thread from Sarah—she’s sent me five messages today.
Sarah: I can’t believe you’re stuck in the hospital. The sun is out and the water is awesome today.
She attached a photo of the beach. It looks inviting, however, keeping my job and eating is more appealing at the moment. Scrolling down, I read the next text.
Sarah: It’s hot out here today, and I don’t mean the temperature. Although, I may need some urgent medical attention as I’m about to suffer from heat stroke. You can suffer heat stroke from being surrounded by hot, and I mean fire hot, men, right?
This one makes me laugh out loud a little.
Picking my head up, I see that no one is paying me any attention.
I scroll through the few photos she attached of the scenery—topless men of all colours and sizes.
The only thought that comes to mind when I see these men is: they don’t hold a candle to Zac.
I really need to get my mind off this guy. I mean, I can’t even enjoy the pictures of topless, hot guys at the beach. I should be able to appreciate that view, even if I am living through Sarah. Giving up on trying to see anything else in the photos, I scroll to her next message.
Sarah: As hot as the view is here, the view in our living room this morning was ten times better.
She adds a winky face emoji. I could have gone without the reminder of just how unattainable Mr. GQ was. Choosing not to dwell on that message, I go to her last message, sent about thirty minutes ago.
Sarah: I won’t be home tonight. I’m picking up some cucumber.
Picking up a cucumber is Sarah’s not-so-subtle code that she’s getting laid tonight.
Having the townhouse to myself doesn’t seem so bad.
I could use the quiet. I won’t make it home until at least midnight anyway, and that’s if the trains are running on time.
I send Sarah a quick text back. I should get back to the charts I was doing.
Me: Enjoy, be safe and save the deets for brunch tomorrow.
Knowing I probably won’t hear from her until I see her at our regular Sunday brunch meet with Holly and Reilly, I put my phone away and look back at the charts I have to get done before I can leave in an hour.
I’m halfway through the pile of charts, with forty minutes left of my shift, when I see a cup landing on the desk in front of me. Dr. Mark Allen leans on the counter, smiling at me. “Thought you could use a pick me up. Skinny cap, right?”
Nope, not right, but how many times can you correct someone. “How did you know? Thank you, doctor. I appreciate it.” Picking the cup up, I take a huge gulp. It may not be a vanilla latte, but coffee is coffee.
“You know you can call me Mark, right? You don’t have to call me doctor all the time.” Dr. Allen winks at me.
I can’t find it in myself to even contemplate putting up with his flirting today.
Dr. Allen is known as a serial dater around the ER, always looking for a new nurse to sink his teeth into.
Well, this nurse is not on the menu—well, not on Dr. Allen’s menu.
Zac’s menu, however, that’s a menu I could handle being on.
I smile up at Dr. Allen and do my best to get us back into the professional territory. “I think I’d prefer to stick with doctor—we are in a workplace after all. Thanks for the coffee but I really need to get these charts done.” I point at the pile of folders in front of me.
His smile drops before he says, “Sure thing, Alyssa, see you around.” He turns and walks away, hopefully getting the clue that this nurse is most certainly off his menu.
After finishing my charts, I shower quickly before changing out of my scrubs. It’s almost eleven fifteen as I make my way out of the building. Just as I’m about to walk out the door, Dr. Allen catches up to me, placing a hand on my arm.
“Do you need a ride home?” He looks hopeful.
I keep walking, making my way out the exit as I say, “Umm, no, it’s okay.
Thanks, I’ve got a ride.” I lie. I’m planning on catching the train but I’m not about to tell him that.
Attempting to change the topic, I thank him again for the coffee and then look around, searching for a way to get away from him without being outright rude.
That’s when I spot him, Mr. GQ, leaning up against a black Range Rover and wearing a suit, a freaking suit—dark blue with a white button-up shirt and no tie.
The first few buttons on his shirt are undone, giving me just a glimpse of his chest. How is it he always looks this good?
It shouldn’t be legal for men to walk around looking like this.
I mean, this is how accidents are caused, women stunned by the beauty and all that.
It’s just plain dangerous. Dangerously beautiful is what he is.
His eyes zone in on the spot of my arm where Dr. Allen still seems to have his hand.
He looks up at my face before staring straight at Dr. Allen.
GQ does not look happy. I’m stuck, literally stuck in place, stunned.
He’s here… I know he said he would be back to pick me up, but why on earth would he do that?
Not for one second did I entertain the idea that he would actually be here when I finished work.
Zac must realise that I’m in a state of shock.
He pushes off the car and stalks towards us, stopping in front of me, removing my gym bag off my shoulder and hiking it up onto his own.
He holds his hand out and smirks at me. “Sunshine, your chariot awaits.” He’s waiting for me to slide my hand into his.
I smile, taking the offering, momentarily shocked by the electric heat that comes with the contact.
When I meet his eyes, I can see he felt it too.
It’s clear he doesn’t care to be introduced to Dr. Allen; he is totally ignoring the doctor’s presence. I introduce them anyway, because I’m polite like that. “Zac, thanks for coming. This is Dr. Allen. Dr. Allen, Zac.” I wave my free arm between the two, making the introduction quick.
Dr. Allen looks between our joined hands, and asks, “Zac, how do you know Alyssa?”