“I’m more single than Rosey,” Josh called. “And I’m probably more in other areas, too.”
I cackled, far too loudly. It wasn’t that funny. He had the humor of a twelve-year-old, but I was in full flirt mode. I’d seen Josh Avery around the ER before, but back then he was just McPanties. Now, he was The Guy Who Pulled Me from the Wreckage. That had meaning. We now had a unique connection. I wanted him to save me again. I just wasn’t sure from what. My thirteen-month dry spell, maybe?
“I am!” he yelled. “And I’m still holding you to an evening of whiskey and lists of things we hate!”
I turned, pushing my ass against the exit. “No coffee?”
Josh held out his hands. “I can bring coffee, sunshine. I’ll bring whatever you want.”
“Give up, Josh,” I said. “I’m not your type.”
“Exactly,” he said, standing tall, wholly satisfied with himself. Quite the turnaround from the upset, fidgeting doof from a few minutes before. His sudden resurfaced confidence had caused mine to waver.
I paused and then pushed my way out into the humid summer night air. My scrubs were soaked, and even though it was at least ninety-five degrees outside, goose bumps formed on my skin. I pulled my hair into a messy bun and waited while Deb searched her huge purse for her keys.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I said, waiting next to the passenger door of her red Kia Rio. It was only a year old but had already suffered a love pat from the back. The rear fender was hanging down a bit on one side, and the corner was still bruised where it had traded paint with the white Buick that hadn’t stopped in time.
“Are you ever going to get that fixed?” I asked.
Deb looked up at me, her almond eyes lifting with her eyebrows. “Do you want to talk about what your Prius looks like right now?”
“Touché. Carry on,” I said, glancing around the parking lot.” I heard a jingle, and then the doors unlocked in unison.
We sat together in the tiny confines of her compact car. Deb shoved the key into the ignition, but paused before turning on the engine.
“I haven’t told you, but I’m glad you’re okay. You scared me to death.”
I smiled, touched by her uncharacteristically tender moment.
“I mean, who would cover my shifts?” she asked. My smile vanished. “Who would fetch me ice cream when I’m sick? Who would make fun of Michaels with me?”
“You’re a bag full of dicks,” I said.
“Yeah, but I’m going to buy you a six-pack of beer to celebrate your return from the dead and your new found infatuation with McPanties.”
“Please stop calling him that,” I said.
“Where does this leave the doc?”
“What is with everyone? I realize my crush on him wasn’t as secret as I thought, but …” I sighed. “Yes, I like him. But I don’t want him.” My eyes bulged at the word want. It was embarrassing to think anyone would believe I would act on my silly infatuation. “It’s just a safe, harmless crush. Exactly the kind I’m comfortable with.”
“Until McPanties came along and cradled you in his arms, fighting Death himself until the cavalry arrived with full lights and sirens.”
“You’ve got to stop calling him that.”
Her theatrics faded as she backed out of her parking spot and headed toward the road. “Yeah … but I won’t.”
The night shift during a full moon had irritated my achy muscles more than I’d admit, but instead of going home to rest, I found myself walking into St. Ann’s ER. Even if every step was agony, it was worth the pain to see Avery. She didn’t seem to be suffering at all. In fact, our collision was a turning point neither of us had seen coming.