Series: The Laws of Opposite Attract Series by Vi Keeland
Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
The heaviness in my chest seemed to float away over the next half hour. Liz had said the new gaming consoles would light up faces, but they did more than that. They made my spirit soar. The kids ripped open the boxes and hooked up the equipment in less than five minutes. After, we watched them try out all the new games. By the time Liz said she needed to get back downstairs, I’d decided I’d be making the same delivery to my local hospital when I got home.
We said goodbye to everyone and started down the hall side by side. Halfway to the elevator, I heard a familiar voice. At first, I’d thought I’d imagined it. But when I heard it a second time, I stopped and looked around. Inside a small visiting room to my left, a little boy in a gown sat on a couch between his parents. A man dressed in paper scrubs, a surgical cap, and a mask stood in front of them, holding a large box. The only thing I could see were his green eyes, but that’s all it took to know it was Brayden.
Liz pointed to the man behind the glass window. “That’s Brayden from Ryan’s House.”
“I know. We’ve…met.”
“That’s right. I forgot you said you’re working on one of their projects.”
“Why is he dressed like that?”
“It’s required when a patient is under protective isolation. Unfortunately, it’s necessary when someone is severely immunosuppressed. Only parents and members of the treatment team are permitted to visit, and they have to take every precaution.”
“But…” I was about to ask how Brayden fit into that category when the reason became clear. Brayden set down the box in his hands and took the top off. When he reached inside and pulled something out, the little boy’s eyes flared wide. He jumped out of his seat with a giant smile. I hadn’t noticed the boy was missing an arm—not until I saw the prosthetic one. And it wasn’t just any prosthetic. This one was something out of a Marvel comic book. The entire muscular arm was painted glossy red, and black web lines ran up the forearm. A 3D spider embellished the top of the hand, and the knuckles of the fingers were bright blue. I wasn’t into superheroes, but even I could appreciate how awesome this Spider-Man arm was. My heart melted as I looked through the glass.
Liz interrupted my staring. “Do you mind if we get going? I have to meet a family downstairs in a few minutes.”
“Oh. Yes, I’m sorry. Of course.” I stole one last look before walking the rest of the way to the elevator. Brayden might’ve been out of sight, but it was going to take a long time to put what I’d just seen out of my mind.
***
Back in Connecticut the following Monday morning, Wells, my best friend and partner, walked into a treatment room while I was looking at myself in the mirror.
“Morning, Kitten,” he said.
I pulled the skin on my face taut on both sides of my eyes. “Should I get Botox? Or maybe filler?”
He came up behind me and looked at my reflection. “Yes.”
My face fell. “Thanks.”
“What? Don’t ask my opinion if you don’t want it. You’re gorgeous, but you can’t stop Mother Nature without a syringe, sweetheart.”
I sighed. “Getting old sucks.”
Wells took a seat on the stool we used during treatments and spun around. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. What do you mean?”
“You’ve never once considered injections. You’re one of the few women I know who actually likes her appearance as is and has natural confidence. So there’s something going on if you’re suddenly considering joining the frozen-face fan club, like me.” He pointed to a cabinet and started taking off his shirt. “We have a half hour before either of us has a patient. Can you do a touch up under my pits? I’m starting to sweat again.”
Unlike me, Wells used every service we had, including injections for hyperhidrosis—excessive underarm sweating.
I shook my head, yet reached for a vial of Botox and gloves. “You know sweating is natural.”
“You say natural like it’s some prize. You know what’s natural? A banana. You know what happens when it sits around too long? It rots and shrivels up. You know what doesn’t shrivel? Plastic. It sticks around for a thousand years. I want to be plastic.”
I chuckled. “Lift your arm, crazy man.”
Wells and I caught up while I injected poison into his underarms. He told me about a horrible date he’d had this weekend, and I told him about my time at Ryan’s House.
“Are there a lot of hot, sweaty construction workers at this place? Maybe I should come with you next time.”
My mind went to one man I knew I’d like to see sweaty. “Can I ask you something and you won’t interrogate me about why I’m asking?”