Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 41635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
But I don’t care. I love the rush of saving lives. I love solving puzzles and helping people, but I hate being slowed down by all the bullshit that goes into running a hospital.
People think it’s a fucking business around here. I’m not in this for the money, though. I want to help people, and if I have to bend some rules to save a life, I’m going to.
I stretch slightly. I’ve been here for six hours now, and I can feel fatigue starting to set in. I will it away, closing my eyes and picturing that girl.
I keep seeing her. Whenever I’m tired, or bored, or there’s just a spare moment, I picture her. Long, thick, dark hair, wide, deep beautiful pools of green for eyes, full lips, white teeth, beautiful body. I keep feeling her skin under my hands as I touched her, examining her for any imperfections, anything that needed to be addressed.
But there were none. Just smooth skin, beautiful eyes.
I’ve seen her around the hospital since then, crutching around with a smile on her face. She comes most evenings after work to visit her grandmother. I did a quick look into the old woman’s chart and it’s not looking good. Her doctor is clueless and an idiot, so I doubt she has much of a chance.
I’ve kept my distance. There aren’t a lot of rules in my life, but there is one that I keep above all others: don’t get close.
I can’t let myself, especially not with patients. Then again, she’s not a patient, just a visiting family member.
Still, I don’t have time to get involved. I’m forty-one, I’ve had romances, but they never last. I work too much, and they never understand. Woman after woman enters my life, thinking she’ll fix me, but she always came second to my job.
Now I’m getting older, and I still don’t have a wife. There’s a part of me that hates it, hates coming home to an empty apartment, but I drown out that part with more work.
My feet take me up a couple floors, almost on autopilot. I step out onto the fourth floor and head back toward Ruby’s grandmother’s room. I want to check on her, like I do most evenings, although really, I just want to catch a glimpse of Ruby.
I get close to the room when the door opens. I duck back into the nurse’s station and sit at a computer as Ruby leaves, saying something over her shoulder.
She’s not on her crutches. I frown and slowly stand against my better judgment.
She should still be on the crutches. There’s no way her ankle is totally healed.
Without thinking, I walk toward her. My mind’s blank as I step into her path. She nearly runs into me again but stops just in time to look up into my eyes as I glare down at her.
She’s so fucking beautiful. It strikes me all over again. She’s curvy in the right ways, almost sultry, with a pretty pouting mouth and an ass I want to squeeze until she screams.
Fucking hell, I shouldn’t be doing this. She’s just another woman I’ll lose sooner or later, another fucked-up milestone in my life. I should just concentrate on being a doctor and helping people.
Instead, I step closer to her. I remember touching her that morning and how badly I wanted more.
“Where are the crutches?” I ask her.
That seems to snap her out of a trance. Her eyes narrow. “At home,” she says.
“I see that. Why?”
“My ankle feels better.”
“Maybe it does, but you’re not healed yet. You shouldn’t be walking around on it.”
She sighs. “Look, it feels fine. Seriously.” She does a little dance, putting too much weight on it. I can see the slight wince of pain she tries to keep off her face. “I’m all better.”
“Liar,” I grunt at her.
She stops her dance. “Why do you care?” she snaps.
I hesitate, not sure how to answer. “You shouldn’t be walking on it,” I say, avoiding the question entirely.
She sighs. “Fine, yeah, okay. You’re probably right. Everyone says you always are.”
I smile a little at that. “They do?”
She rolls her eyes. “You should hear the nurses talk about you, like you’re some kind of genius.”
I snort a little. “Maybe I am.”
“Doubt it.” She gives me a skeptical look.
I suppress a grin. “How’s your grandmother doing?” I ask, changing the subject again.
“Okay,” she says, glancing back. “They don’t know what’s wrong with her. Breathing issues, heart flutters, fatigue…” She trails off. “I’m getting worried.”
“Who’s her doctor?”
“West.”
I nod. “Dr. West,” I say, “is a fucking idiot.”
Her eyes go wide. “Uh, what?”
“West is a fucking idiot,” I say again. “He’s a liability to this hospital. I’m honestly surprised your grandmother is still alive.”
She stares at me like I have two heads. “Are you insane? Or just an asshole?”