Page 37 of Let Leaves Lay Where They Fall

The stout Superhero sets Jamie on a chair and rushes over to the reception desk. “We need a doctor right now.” He spits the command at the poor girl. “He’s spilled a huge pan of boiling water down his leg!” He points.

Jamie feels his face burn as hot as his thigh when the handful of people waiting ahead of him, all turn in his direction.

The receptionist passes Hugo a clipboard of paperwork.

He tucks it under his arm. “There’s no time for this! He’s melting!”

“Someone will be right with you.” She looks at Hugo and then across the room at Jamie.

He smiles back. “Thank you.”

Hugo stomps his foot, growling.

“Hugo!” Jamie waves for him to come and sit.

Hugo hesitates. Glaring back at the receptionist. Then surrendering into the seat next to Jamie.

“I’ll be fine. You head back. They need you at the restaurant.”

“No.” he snaps.

“It’s ok. Thank you for bringing me. I can handle it from here.” Jamie smiles, teeth grit through the searing pain starting to climb up the side of his body. “Gregory needs you.”

His face drops at the realization his love is manning a busy kitchen by himself. Hugo likes to think of himself as the workhorse behind his talented genius husband, and he is. Gregory will be in the weeds by the time Hugo gets back.

“Okay. You check in later!” He squeezes Jamie’s shoulder and rushes out the door.

Jamie practices old yoga breathing techniques, from his days tending to his fitness, while waiting to be called back. He’d be happy to just saw the entire leg off at the moment. The last thing his deflated flabby body needs is burn scars to top it all off.

“James?” A nurse appears from a side hallway, pushing a wheelchair with a second nurse in tow.

“Yes.” Managing half a smile.

The two nurses help him into the chair and they move quickly through double doors into the open treatment gallery. Wheeling him toward a bed and pulling the curtain closed around them.

They prop him up and help him swing the searing leg over, until he’s laid out.

Tears flood his eyes. One of the nurses grabs ahold of the drenched fabric and starts chopping up the pant leg with a pair of scissors. She could have asked first! Exposing his entire leg to the air. Somehow, the roaring heat flares worse.

His skin is red like the worst sunburn he ever had. When he was twelve and fell asleep on the beach without sunscreen. That burn had blistered before nightfall and left him with a nauseating case of sun sickness for two days. Curse of the fair skinned. This was probably going to be as bad, if not worse.

The second nurse lifts his shirt. His arm moves on instinct to block her, keeping his most shameful parts hidden away. He’d rather die than lay here fully exposed. The last person he let see him naked, wouldn’t touch him again, and ended up screwing everyone else in town. It didn’t matter she was a professional he’d likely never see again. No one gets to see those parts of him.

The cringe scraping of metal rings against the curtain rail announces a new person entering the cubicle.

Jamie loosens pinched eyes, and his vision focuses through the salty fluid. Shit.

Nathan is standing over him.

“I’ve got this.” He pushes past the nurse who had mangled the pant leg. “Take over bed four, please.”

The short brunette is stunned for a second, then disappears. Taking her partner with her.

“This is not what I was talking about when I said I wanted to make it up to you.” Nathan stretches blue gloves onto his hands and examines Jamie’s torched thigh with gentle fingers.

“Funny.” Jamie responds. Because it was.

“What happened?”

---