Page 8 of Night Shift

“Everything went just fine. However, if you ever need to be sedated in the future, make sure to let the doctors and nurses know you have a sensitivity to propofol. We’ve marked it in your records and will send the notes over to your primary care physician. Take care of that arm. Have a good night.” With that, I headed out of the procedure room, pausing as I drew closer to Sam.

“When you take your first break, grab me. We need to talk,” I said curtly.

Chapter three

The dashboard clock read 17:35. Once again, I sat in my car in the staff lot at St. John’s. It was the beginning of my third night shift, and I stared blankly at the hospital’s imposing facade. Anxiety flooded my mind as I wondered what lay in store tonight. Drawing in a deep breath, I tried to muster the courage to step out of my car and into the tumult that awaited me inside.

Tacoma’s evening chill seeped through the windows, mirroring the cold knot of unease in my stomach. My thoughts were a tangled mess. I kept replaying the events of last night’s shift over and over. Bethany, the one nurse I thought I’d connected with, seemed irked at me, and I had no clue why. The atmosphere had shifted the moment Dr. Thorin called me by his absurd nickname, Sammich. Bethany had narrowed her eyes at me in unmistakable irritation. Now, sitting here, I dreaded facing her again. I was unsure about what I’d done to make her mad.

But it wasn’t just Bethany causing my anxiety. Last night, during a reduction procedure, I’d openly questioned Dr. Thorin’s propofol dosage in front of the patient and the entire medical team. There had been a brief flash of annoyance on his face before he’d reluctantly accepted my recommendation for a lower dosage. Despite this, the pharmacist had been confused about the dosage, which had led to the patient becoming apneic. Though we’d managed to stabilize the patient without any harm, Dr. Thorin had demanded we discuss the incident on my break. However, the rest of my shift had been so busy that I hadn’t gotten a break. I’d ended up leaving without having that conversation with him. Now, the thought of what Dr. Thorin might say loomed large in my mind.

I had always prided myself on being a competent nurse. My grades in nursing school had been nearly perfect, and my year at Harbor Regional back in Aberdeen had allowed me to hone my skills in the ED. Not to mention I’d just earned my CEN. Yet, here I was, experiencing an emotional turmoil that had little to do with my nursing abilities and everything to do with the complexities of interpersonal relationships at St. John’s—a world I was still learning to navigate.

I’d purposefully arrived early so I could find Dr. Thorin before my shift started. I refused to sit in my car any longer and stew over what he might say. With a heavy sigh, I gathered my things and reluctantly opened the car door. The brisk night air hit me like an icy slap. I stood for a moment, steeling myself before making my way toward the sliding doors of the entrance.

The ED was a flurry of activity, humming with the usual cacophony of beeps, pages, and hurried conversations. As if I was on autopilot, my feet carried me directly toward the break room. At every intersection, I scanned the hallways for Dr. Thorin but didn’t find him. My mind raced with potential scenarios of our impending conversation. And then, there he was, leaning into a conversation with one of the ED residents as they both scrutinized something on a tablet. They were so focused that neither of them noticed me as I slid into the break room on the other side of the hallway.

Despite my resolve to avoid romantic entanglements here at the hospital, I couldn’t deny the unexpected physical attraction that simmered in my core every time I saw Dr. Thorin, which was so weird, considering how much older he was than me. No, that couldn’t be right…just some mental Freudian slip.

I shoved my lunch into the fridge and then poured a cup of coffee to warm up my hands. Someone had just brewed the pot, so it was nice and hot. I added a little cream and wrapped my fingers around the steaming cup, carefully sipping as I eavesdropped on Dr. Thorin’s conversation. His thick baritone was unmistakable. I shut my eyes, resting my lips against the edge of the mug and allowing his voice to resonate in my mind. It sent heat cascading to my core. His words were like molten honey dripping into my panties. The man was just discussing cardiac meds, but it was better than listening to a smutty audiobook. Jesus, had a man’s voice ever affected me like this? I wondered how it would affect me if his words were naughty.

“Ahem, Ms. Sheridan. Sam!”

My name finally registering, I jumped, nearly flinging my coffee on… “Dr. Thorin, so sorry. I was lost in my thoughts and didn’t see you.” Shit, my face almost throbbed from the sudden burst of heat that surged into my cheeks.

“Good thing I’m quick, or else I’d have hot coffee burns on my chest.” He smirked and turned back to the door, shutting it.

“Have a seat, Samantha,” he said, gesturing to one of the chairs at the table. The way he said my name, so formally, sent a nervous shiver down my spine.

Gathering my things from the counter, I hesitantly walked over to the table and sat down, placing my coffee, keys, and wallet in front of me. Crossing my legs and folding my hands in my lap, I tried to appear more composed than I actually was. Dr. Thorin joined me, sitting across the table. He leaned back in his chair, his attention fixed on me. The deep furrow between his brows, along with the seriousness in his eyes, was intimidating.

“About last night’s procedure,” he began, his tone authoritative yet professional.

Interrupting him before he could say more, I leaned in and said, “I’m sorry I didn’t stop by last night during my break. I wasn’t ignoring your request, but I didn’t have a chance to take a break, and my shift ended up running over with all the patients we had. I assumed you’d already left because I didn’t see you anywhere in the department after the reduction procedure.”

“I’m not upset that you didn’t come to see me last night. And although it’s rare for someone to challenge me, especially in front of others, I’m not displeased with your question regarding the propofol dosage. But I would have preferred for you to ask me to step outside the room since the procedure had yet to begin and the circumstances weren’t urgent. The patient was already anxious, and our discussion didn’t help.”

I nodded, absorbing his words. He was right, of course. I should have considered the patient’s feelings and apprehension about the procedure.

“I appreciate your advocacy for the patient,” Dr. Thorin continued, “but in the future, be sensitive to the situation. It’s not about questioning; it’s about how and when you do it.”

Both relief and embarrassment washed over me. “I understand, Dr. Thorin. I’ll be more mindful in the future.” My cheeks warmed again.

He leaned forward, his demeanor shifting slightly. “Now, about the other matter. I know Bethany gave you a hard look before handing off the patient. That wasn’t fair to you. Hospital rumor mills are…overactive. Don’t believe everything you hear, especially about me.” The corner of his mouth lifted, and he stared at me as if he could read my mind.

I raised an eyebrow, unsure where this was heading. Then his grin broadened, a hint of flirtation in his eyes. “And Sammich…it’s a term of endearment, you know?”

I blinked, taken aback. Was he coming onto me? My heart skipped a beat.

“You can go now,” he said. “And remember, don’t be afraid to question things. Just…pick your moments.” His gaze slowly made its way from my eyes to my chest and back up again.

Still processing the exchange, I gathered my things and stood up. “Thank you, Dr. Thorin. I’ll keep that in mind,” I whispered.

“I know you will, Sammich.”

As I walked out of the break room, the nickname echoed in my ears, sending a thrill through me. Was I reading too much into it? The way he said it, that slight twinkle in his eye—it was unnerving.

Shaking my head slightly, I made my way to the locker room. My thoughts were a jumble of professional concerns and personal doubts. Dr. Thorin was an enigma, and I wasn’t sure what to make of him…or my reaction to him. But one thing was obvious; my time at St. John’s was going to be anything but dull.

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