Page 21 of Day Shift

I picked up my phone from the counter, and Cassidy’s name flashed on the screen. Cass was a girl I occasionally hung out with or hooked up with. I’d met her a couple of years back when she started working out at the gym down the street. She was a sassy little blonde flight attendant who was living life to the fullest, and I respected her for that. Our encounters had been casual and uncomplicated, and we always had fun together.

“Hey, Conan,” she said, her voice slightly slurred, a clear sign she was a bit tipsy. “Can I come over? I’m just down the street with some friends.”

Perfect timing. I needed a distraction, and sleep wasn’t on the horizon anyway. “Sure thing, Cass. The code to open my door is four-two-seven-seven.”

After hanging up, I brushed my teeth and stared into the mirror. I wasn’t getting any younger, and I wondered if I’d ever find a woman who I could trust with my heart.

Doubtful.

I dried my face and headed toward the front door.

Before I even reached it, there she was, stepping inside, wearing a hot-pink crop top and short jean skirt. She teetered slightly on her heels, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischievous glint.

Cassidy’s laughter filled the space as she made her way over to me, her perfume—sweet and citrusy—wafting in along with the humid night air.

“Missed you, big guy,” she purred, pressing her body against mine. Her hands wasted no time exploring the contours of my chest, making their way up and behind my neck. I hadn’t bothered dressing, so I was only wearing the towel I’d slung around my hips.

“Missed you too, Cass,” I said, sliding my hands around her waist.

Cassidy stretched up on her tiptoes, and then her lips found mine, hungry and demanding. The taste of tequila lingered on her tongue. I pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, my hands roaming over the curve of her hips and the small of her back. She responded eagerly, tangling her fingers in my hair and pulling me down to her level.

We stumbled toward the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. Her top hit the floor, followed by my towel. She giggled, unsteady on her feet, and I scooped her up, her laughter turning into a soft moan as I kissed her neck. Her skin was warm and smooth, with a faint trace of sweat from the summer heat.

As soon as I set her on the bed, she shimmied out of her skirt. Her bra came off next, revealing her perfectly perky breasts. I took a moment to admire her—the way her body moved, the way she bit her lip, how her eyes darkened with desire. Then she was on me again, tugging my hand and dragging me to her mouth in a searing kiss that left me breathless.

We fell back onto the bed, a tangle of limbs. Cassidy’s nails raked down my sides, sending shivers through me. I hooked my fingers under the waistband of her thong, removing it in one swift motion. She gasped, arching her back, and I took the opportunity to kiss my way down her body, tasting the salt of her sweat mixed with her natural sweetness.

Her hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me back up to her. “Fuck. Me. Now,” she demanded, voice husky with desire.

I didn’t need any more encouragement—I needed release. I positioned myself between her legs. Her glistening core was making me hungry, and I was eager to taste her, but that would have to wait. The sensation of entering her was electric, a jolt of pleasure that made both of us moan. Cassidy wrapped her legs around me, urging me deeper, digging her nails into my arms.

We moved together in the natural rhythm we always found, the bed creaking beneath us. Her needy little noises filled the room, mingling with my own grunts of gratification. It wasn’t long before we climaxed together and collapsed on the bed. She draped an arm over my chest, her breathing steadying as she drifted into sleep.

I stared at the ceiling, the afterglow fading as unbidden thoughts crept in. Cassidy’s soft snores filled the room, but my mind wandered back to the ICU, to the mysterious Jane Doe. She was still unconscious, alone, and vulnerable. There was something inexplicable drawing me to her, something deeper than just professional concern. With Cassidy, sex was instinctive, almost mechanical. Don’t get me wrong, she always delivered in bed, and now had been no exception, but I wasn’t emotionally connected to her. I didn’t have that unexplainable craving for her I saw in other men’s eyes for the women they loved. Maybe that wasn’t in the cards for me.

For whatever reason, every time I shut my eyes, Jane Doe’s face was there. No matter how wrong it felt, or how much I knew I shouldn’t, I couldn’t help but want her. I didn’t feel good enough for her, but the desire was undeniable.

I wasn’t a virtuous man. Broken, living for today, never any guilt for living my life on my own terms, a playboy with no remorse—that was who I’d always been. The things I’d done throughout my life, the choices I’d made—she deserved better. She deserved someone like one of my brothers, someone good and noble.

Atticus was the perfect one—an attending ED doc, loads of money, always did the right thing—and now he had the perfect woman by his side. Braxton wasn’t so different from Atticus. Not only did he and Atticus look like they could be twins, but their penchant for perfectionism and being the hero everyone wanted made them wildly successful. But me, the baby brother, almost seven years younger than Atticus, I’d always been the hellion. I was the guy who wasn’t afraid to taste all that life had to offer. The one who’d done crazy shit like fly down the steepest hill on his bike as a kid—even though it had ended with a broken arm and a deep scar on my knee—just to be noticed occasionally.

Living in my brothers’ shadow wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d had competent parents. Sure, my mother and father had looked great from the outside looking in. But the truth of them was shitty at best. By the time I was eight, my mother had put herself in the ground drinking herself to death. A little more than a year after she’d passed, my father died from a widow-maker heart attack. It had been a lot to deal with—even though none of us had been close to the self-absorbed, workaholic who never made time for any of us.

Although the three of us brothers had shared the same miserable childhood, we’d dealt with it differently. I’d always been determined to live and let live, and I’d had loads of fun, but where had that gotten me? Lots of lovers, but no love. I was on friendly terms with just about everyone I’d ever met, but I had no close friends. I’d eventually managed to make it through college and had chosen nursing as a profession because the money was decent and I enjoyed helping people. It was the one thing that had given my life purpose. But now, it was just a job, a daily grind. I’d become jaded working in the emergency department for so many years. When I’d first started working as an ED nurse, I’d felt like a superhero, like I mattered in the world. Not too many years in, though, my cape had become tarnished with the realities of the human condition. Now, I wanted more out of life—something that was real, something that wasn’t here today and gone tomorrow.

Watching Atticus and Sam find each other had stirred something deep within my soul. I wanted what they had but didn’t know where to find it. Maybe that was why this Jane Doe had shaken me. Deep down, I knew she was different, and it gnawed at me in so many different ways. Why had no one recognized her or come for her? Why would a beautiful goddess like her steal a car and run from the police so recklessly? How could she be so utterly alone?

At the same time, I couldn’t help but be pissed off at her too. Her carelessness and lack of self-preservation had nearly gotten her killed. Did she honestly think her actions would have no consequences? What if she’d crashed into a minivan, killing a bunch of little kids? What the fuck had she been thinking?

A part of me wanted to protect her, but there was also a part that wanted to knock some common sense into her. I’d never been a saint. Forgiveness wasn’t my thing. But something was nagging at the edges of my conscience, compelling me to find all of her missing pieces and put her back together again, to find out if she was worth my effort or was just another self-absorbed, shallow woman who believed she was above the laws of human decency. I’d give her the benefit of the doubt for now. My gut told me she was the kind of woman worth figuring out.

Cassidy stirred beside me, her hand slipping off my chest. I rolled away from her, trying to escape the thoughts gnawing at me. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to sleep, but it was fitful, my mind unable to let go of the image of Jane Doe lying helpless in that hospital bed.

Chapter twelve

My alarm blared, shattering sleep’s hold over me before dawn had even begun to crack. I groaned and rolled over, reaching out to hit snooze on my phone, which was sitting on my bedside table. It was supposed to be one of my days off, a day to do something fun or relaxing, but there wasn’t time for that today. Shaking my head, I forced myself to get out of bed.

Cassidy lay sprawled across the sheets, her breathing steady and deep. I moved slowly, careful not to jostle the bed as I slid out from under the covers. Her scent lingered on my skin, a mix of her perfume and the heat of our night together. I went into the bathroom and took a super quick shower, the hot water washing away the remnants of sex and sleep. Running a brush through my long hair, I tied it back with a hair tie, then dressed in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt.

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