Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
I don't even care if my ass itches the whole goddamn time.
I'm beginning to consider the merits of throwing a Hulk-sized fit over going home, when another nurse—new, older, and absolutely done with life—marches into the room several hours later. She's got her ponytail so tight her eyebrows look shocked. And I'm not entirely convinced she doesn't intend to bash me over the head with the clipboard she's clutching like a weapon.
"All right, Mr. Kirk," she says, her voice sharp. "We're prepping you for discharge, but I'm not letting you out until we make sure you can walk, talk, and pee without incident. Understood?"
She says this last bit while staring directly at my dick. I'm not sure if it's intimidation or hospital policy, but my balls shrivel in response.
"Noted," I say, saluting like this is the military, and she's a drill sergeant.
She slaps a blood pressure cuff onto my arm with the practiced violence of a woman who once played roller derby. As she pumps the bladder, I feel the sudden urge to impress her with my resting heart rate, even though I'm pretty sure the cocktail of drugs they gave me rewired my nervous system.
Dani hovers in the corner with her hands behind her back, pretending she's invisible. As if anyone could ever overlook that kind of perfection.
The nurse gives her a quick up-and-down. "You the girlfriend?"
Dani almost swallows her own tongue. "No!" she practically shouts before grimacing. "I mean—no. Just the, um, team PT."
The nurse raises one eyebrow, her face a mask of skepticism. "Uh-huh. You'll want to keep him off his feet for the next day or so. No strenuous activity. No hockey, no weightlifting." Her gaze flicks to me, her gaze assessing. "No running from your problems or the police."
Jesus Christ. Do I look that fucking bad?
Dani covers her mouth with a hand, undoubtedly hiding a smile.
"Pity," I sigh. "My brother is the police."
The nurse snorts, clearly not finding me funny.
"Can I still wrestle her?" I can't resist asking, pointing at Dani, just to annoy the fuck out of Nurse Ratched.
The old lady doesn't even blink. "She'd flatten you in your current state."
I try to shoot Dani a look that says, "See, even the nurse knows you're a badass," but she's looking anywhere but at me, her cheeks scarlet.
The nurse rips off the cuff before recording the numbers. "Vitals are decent. You're still a little tachycardic, but that'll fade. If you have any shortness of breath, throat swelling, or chest pain, you come back immediately. It could be a rebound reaction. Got it?"
"Loud and clear."
She starts unhooking the IV from my arm, a process that involves a lot more yanking than I'd like. "Discharge instructions will be at the front desk. You'll need a ride, Mr. Kirk. And before you argue, I don't care if you're an Olympic sprinter or Santa Claus, it's hospital policy."
Dani steps up before I can even think of a retort. "I'm driving him home."
The nurse gives her a knowing look. "Of course you are."
She leaves, shutting the door with a level of finality that's honestly intimidating. She should go to work in a goddamn prison.
As soon as we're alone, Dani turns on her professional voice: all business, all the time. "Can you stand without help?"
"I can deadlift you," I say, mostly to see her blush again.
It works. Her skin immediately flushes, her gaze rooted to the floor. But she pulls up the rolling stool and pats the seat like I'm an unruly toddler. "Sit. Let's see if you get dizzy."
I ease out of bed, wincing as every muscle twinges. My entire body feels like it's been scrubbed with steel wool and then painted with menthol. I do not want to sit, or move, or exist, but I'd drag myself to the fucking North Pole naked for five more minutes of her undivided attention.
I make it to the stool without fainting, so she graces me with a tiny smile. "Not so tough now, are you?"
"Still tougher than half of my asshole teammates."
She laughs softly, running her hands over my arms to check for lingering hives. They're mostly gone, but there are a few welts still angry enough to warrant a frown.
"You're not allergic to anything else, are you?" she asks, almost too quietly.
"Not unless you're secretly in love with one of my teammates," I say, and then immediately wish I could take it back.
Too much. Reel it in, Kirk.
But Dani's lips do that thing where they almost smile, like she wants to, but it's against the rules. "You'd tell me if you were?"
"In love with one of my teammates?" I tease.
She rolls her eyes at me. "Allergic to anything else, Trent."
"Yeah, I'd tell you. I'd trust you with all my secrets," I say, meaning it all the way to my damn soul.
She's close enough I can smell her shampoo, something bright and sweet, like green apples and vanilla. I want to bury my nose in her ponytail and never come up for air. Instead, I let her finish her exam, enjoying the hell out of her hands on me, even if it's purely clinical.