Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 72442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Slate’s face went hard.
“Almost,” he agreed.
I shoved another bite of cookie into my mouth.
I knew this was an uncomfortable subject for him, and I was torn between changing the subject and asking more questions.
Instead of doing either, I shoved my mouth full of cookies and tried to control the urge to reach for his hand and tuck it into both of mine.
A hand that would’ve engulfed both of mine easily.
“You pulled up into the ambulance bay, sirens blaring, and then passed out as soon as you got it into park,” she said. “I was clocking in when I saw you pull up. The entire emergency room exploded in activity. I had to give a statement to the police on what I saw since I was right there when you pulled up.”
Slate’s face scrunched up.
“Then you got fixed up, loaded up with blood, and you were out the door a couple hours later,” she murmured. “Walking out AMA.”
AMA was against medical advice.
Slate looked like the type to do that.
“Had some unfinished business,” he admitted.
What he’d done had been something that every single person in the world would’ve done if they were placed into that situation.
My phone rang, and I glanced at the readout from where it sat in my lap and grimaced.
“Fuck,” I muttered darkly.
“What is it?” Dad asked.
“Work,” I muttered, picking the phone up and answering it.
“Hello?” I sighed.
“I will give you a million, bajillion dollars to come in tonight,” my boss, Mell, pleaded.
I looked at my watch. “I haven’t eaten dinner yet.”
And it was nearly time to go in.
“Eat it, then come,” she urged. “I’m short-staffed. There’s nobody able to come in. We had two more call in with the flu.”
Fuuuuuck.
“Today was my only day off,” I whined.
“Pleasseeeeee,” she begged.
I sighed and looked at my watch again. “But I was going to watch Netflix and chill.”
“You can have tomorrow off instead,” she pleaded. “And Saturday. I have the as-needed chick coming in, but she’s off on vacation. She said she could be back in tomorrow night.”
I thunked my head down on my upraised knees. “But Netflix! And chill!”
Mell started to laugh. “You do know the meaning of Netflix and chill, correct?” she teased. “And last I heard, you only had a gay man living with you.”
I sighed.
“Hey,” I said stiffly. “Dre may be gay, but he’s not immune to my charms.”
She started to snicker. “The day that man turns away from his man will be the day that this world ends, honey. And…I bought you a present. It starts with a ‘bag of’ and ends with ‘M&M’s.’”
I snickered. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, Mell. Just…swear to God, you better be aware of the shit that’s about to be thrown down tonight. It’s a full freakin’ moon.”
She sighed. “Oh, I know. Why do you think I had to call you?”
With that, she hung up, and I groaned and dropped my head back to the chair behind me.
“You have to go in?” my mother asked quietly.
I grumbled something unladylike under my breath and raised my head.
My breath hitched in my throat when I got my first good look at the man now looking at me like he had a new, exciting shininess to me.
“What?” I asked curiously.
“Dre’s gay?”
I frowned. “Yeah…is that a problem? Are you homophobic or something?”
He shook his head. “No…but I thought y’all were married.”
I burst out laughing. “Dre and me? Married?”
I laughed my ass all the way to the car.
Chapter 7
Some of y’all have never turned Lynyrd Skynyrd up when he told you to…and it really shows.
-Harleigh’s random thoughts
Harleigh
The turning point in our love-hate relationship came the night that I went to work, and he saved me from being murdered.
Which, I suppose, would do it for normal women, too.
The day started out like any other.
Honestly, I’d been in the middle of my shift. The morning had gone about as planned, other than being a little short-staffed and having to run from floor to floor on my own.
I’d just arrived on the ground floor—the floor that the ER was on—and had stepped inside and was talking to a nurse about what was needed for two patients when it happened.
“Wow, looks like you got a busy day ahead of you,” I said softly.
“We got a girl over there that shot a man in a motorcycle club. And the man she shot all the way at the opposite side of the room, but still in the same room. I can feel the murderous glares from the motorcycle club being beamed down the hallway at her. And she’s just sitting there smiling.” The nurse rolled her eyes and led me first to a room. “This is the one that needs to go first. He’s got a compound fracture poking out of the skin.”
I went in and assessed the patient with a glance, nodded my head, and said, “One of you are going to have to help me push him.”