“Hey, did you apply for the internship?” Hadley asked suddenly.
“Yes,” I muttered.
Of course, I had. My mother would’ve killed me if I hadn’t.
My mother was Director of Nursing, and she would’ve had a coronary had I not applied.
Apparently, it was a good way to get a ‘leg up’ on other hires. Or whatever.
I didn’t really care.
She didn’t know yet that I was likely going to go work in a doctor’s office and not the hospital at all, but she’d figure that out pretty quickly once I graduated.
“I did too.” She nodded her head. “My hope is to get in there with Dr. Bones. I hear he’s a good…teacher.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Dr. Bones doesn’t fuck students. He doesn’t even fuck other nurses or doctors. In fact, I’m not quite sure that he’s capable of even having sex,” I whispered to my best friend.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but one can hope, can’t she?”
Yeah, one could hope.
We walked up the hallway to where the Critical Concepts class was—thank you to our small college for offering something brand new that no other nursing program in the country offered to their level four students—and I started to get lightheaded.
Yeah, the idea of critical care—of anything that even remotely had to do with blood and gore—gave me the heebie-jeebies.
I was determined not to let anyone know of my fear, though, even my best friend.
I stepped through the doorway and my stomach knotted.
Here goes nothing.
Chapter 2
If you don’t shut up, I’ll shove this stick down your throat.
-Why Tally shouldn’t be trusted with tongue depressors when she’s pissed.
Tally
“Sweet baby Jesus,” Hadley groaned. “We’re going to die. Literally, how can anyone make it through life like this?”
I agreed.
How were we going to make it through our days without falling into a puddle of goo at the feet of Dr. Tommy?
I didn’t think it was possible.
Well, not now that he was our freakin’ teacher as well.
Why he was a teacher, on top of being a freakin’ doctor at the hospital, was beyond me.
But there he was. In our classroom. Showing off his freakin’ tattoos.
“How is he allowed to show his tattoos?” the girl on the other side of us, Elba, asked. “We’re not allowed to show ours.”
“Is there something you ladies wish to discuss with the rest of the class?” Dr. Tommy drawled, bringing our attention to him.
“Uh,” I stalled. “I was asking if either one of them had a pen I could use. Mine’s no longer working.”
He started to stalk toward me, and I started to squirm in my chair.
Please don’t check my pen. Please don’t check my pen!
He didn’t check my pen.
No, instead he pulled a freakin’ pen out of his pocket, handed it to me, and waited while I tried to get my hands to work.
“T-thank you,” I murmured quietly, taking the pen gently.
His eyes were an intense blue. So freakin’ blue that they looked fake. They looked even bluer when you paired them with his tanned skin and black hair.
“Maybe next time you’ll be prepared for my class,” he murmured so softly that only Hadley and I could hear.
My face turned an intense shade of red, I was sure.
“I will. I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
We were supposed to have two pens. That’d been the instructions on the syllabus on the first day of class. Two pens. One blue, one black. Two pencils. Two highlighters. Two notebooks.
Two…in case one failed.
That’d been his instructions. Always be prepared. Bring two of everything. Always. Everything fails, so always have backup.
Gritting my teeth, I gave my friends a sideways look that clearly relayed that they were to behave, or I’d kill them, causing both of them to smile.
Elba was a very cute Latina girl who I met the first day of class, and she’d quickly become one of my very best friends. She was getting married in the fall after we graduated, and I was really happy for her.
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, your first clinical in the ER might be somewhat overwhelming. That’s to be expected. However, over time, you will learn the ropes, find your stride, and realize that it isn’t some big, scary place that will swallow you alive,” Dr. Tommy—I refused to call him Dr. Bones anymore—continued.
I started doodling on my paper, drawing curls and swirls around mine and Tallulah’s names.
I’d just made a fourth star when a large tanned hand came and snatched the pen out of my hand.
“I can see now why your pen ran out of ink,” Dr. Tommy stared down at me with barely restrained impatience.
My face flushed.
If it were possible to melt onto the floor in a puddle of complete embarrassment, I would’ve done it. Right then and there.
Jesus Christ.
“I think you should see me after class,” he murmured.
My brows furrowed.
I hadn’t done anything wrong.
Looking over to Hadley, she returned a sympathetic smile before turning her head down to her own work.
“Okay,” I finally said. “I’ll see you after class.”
He nodded once, but kept his pen.
Irrational anger flowed through me throughout the rest of class, and by the time that it ended, I was beside myself.
“Do you want me to wait?” Hadley asked.
I shook my head.
“No,” I snapped. “I have to go to work after this anyway. I just hope he doesn’t make me late.”
Hadley packed her book into her bag, gave me a worried look, and then left without another word.
I stayed in my seat once my bag was packed, waiting to see what Dr. McAsshole had to say.
Once the last person escaped, he stopped erasing the board, (and yes, I was admiring his ass in case you were wondering) turned and crossed his thick, muscular arms over his chest.
“The other teachers give you glowing recommendations,” he started saying.
I licked my lips.
“Uh, thank you?”
I didn’t know what to say, nor where he was going with this.
“I wanted you to understand that I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior when I have you in my ER.”
I blinked.
Then blinked again.
“Uhhh,” I started to say, but he interrupted me.
“You’ll be starting on your nursing internship next week. You’ll be there two days out of the week, twelve hour shifts, and always under me or Dr. Wild.”
I blinked some more.
“I…I got it?” I finally was able to get out.
He nodded his head.
“Though I expect that has more to do with who your mother is than whether or not you are actually qualified or skilled enough to be there.”
My mouth dropped open in affront.
“Oh, I assure you that I am skilled and qualified enough to be there.” My back straightened. “Is that all?”
I could’ve sworn I saw his lips twitch at my show of anger, but no other signs of his reaction to my ire were apparent.
“Yes, that’ll be all.”
I nodded and stood, throwing my bag on my shoulder and practically stomping toward the door.
He stopped me, though, the moment I was about to exit fully.
“Thank you.”
I froze, and turned.
“For what?” I asked stiffly.
“For not running over me this morning. Thank you for paying attention.”