Rushed

"Come on, you know I'm not that—"

I'm not looking where I'm going. My eyes are fixed on Linda's ass, and I collide with someone, knocking them to the ground and causing me to stumble into the wall. “Holy shit! Look where you're going next time."

I see long blonde hair, maybe a girl's, as I grab my backpack, but before I can do anything else, the alarm on my phone rings, and I need to haul ass. My doctor's appointment is in twenty minutes, and since I can't technically be without my sling, that means I can't ride my motorcycle. Thankfully, the campus bus is convenient enough, and I catch the bus right as it starts to pull away, taking it the ten-minute ride to University Hospital.



I’m glad that Western University has one of the better orthopedic departments in this half of the United States. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have dealt with any sort of injury at some cow college in the middle of nowhere.

"Mr. Hart? Let's get you to X-ray," the nurse, a cute little thing who's already eying me as we walk down the hall, says as she leads me to the scanning room. I check out her name tag, and I have to do a double take. I've seen her before, but this is the first time I've seen her name tag. Really? Someone actually named their daughter Nancy Drew? You've gotta be fucking kidding me. "You're feeling no pain, right?"

"None that the doctor can help me with," I say, giving her a smirk. Nurse Nancy might just be what I need to relieve some stress. "You might be able to, though."

"Oh?" she purrs, leaning in. She's got a tight little body—that's evident even through her uniform—and she's showing me just a little bit of cleavage with her scrub top. "Find me after the exam. Maybe we can see what I can do for you."

"For sure." I smirk. "Think I can get the speedy service? You know, I'm having so many aches and pains in my hip area."

"Swelling?"

"Lots of it. Huge amounts of swelling."

The nurse is breathing heavier. She's already DTF, and I take her hand and give her a little kiss on the knuckles. "After my appointment, where will you be?"

"Department desk," she half-moans. Her brown eyes are half-lidded and she’s biting her lip. "I can take a meal break then."

"And we can get some privacy?"

She nods, and I kiss her knuckles again. "Good. Now, let's get the scans done."

The exam room is really high-tech, with the X-ray not being some old school sit there and take photos machine, but instead, they are able to give you a live scan of the area. I can even watch my elbow move on the video monitor above my head. The X-ray tech records for a minute, then tells me I can go see the doc.

"Mr. Hart?" Dr. Lefort says. "How're you doing?"

"Ready to get out of this sling and back to the real world," I answer, flexing my arm. "You keep me in this thing much longer, and my bike's going to forget who I am."

Lefort laughs, an interesting side effect of my mouth sometimes. I either piss you off, or you think I'm funny. Some people think both at the same time, but Lefort is amused. "Well, let's take a look at the video. Hold on here . . . okay."

He replays the video, nodding and humming to himself in places. "And you're not feeling any pain?"

"None."

"Let me see the incision. You know, I still don’t understand why you didn't let me do the surgery arthroscopically. The scar would have eventually been no more than the size of a thumbtack hole."

I look at the two-inch line on the inside of my arm and grin. It's perfectly aligned with the tattoo I want to get, a half-sleeve that'll go from my shoulder to my elbow. "Chicks dig scars, doc. You know that, right?"

Lefort laughs again and has me flex my arm a few more times. "Okay. You're cleared to start rehab. I assume you'll be working with Coach Taylor?"

"Unfortunately," I grumble. "Coach Bainridge ordered me to."

"Don't knock it. Dave's a good man. Helped me with my rehab when I tore up my hip going hiking last summer. And doctors make the worst patients, because we know that we already know it all."

I smirk at his joke and roll my arm. "Think I can ride my bike?"

"Give it a few days," Lefort replies, scribbling on his clipboard. "Not because you don't have the strength, but just to reacquaint yourself with using the arm. At least wait until this weekend. All right then. I'll forward this to both Coach Taylor and Coach Bainridge. Good luck, Duncan. I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do this fall."

"Thanks, Doc. Take it easy."



Chapter 2

April



"Good afternoon, Coach Taylor."