Page 83 of Stolen Bases

“So, there is a boyfriend.” Trinity rubs her hands together.

Emma chuckles.

I walk over and check the monitors, looking for any signs of change in her heart rate and oxygen before putting the buds of my stethoscope in my ears and listening to her heart. The beating of her heart gives me the assurance I need.

“I think she’s avoiding the question,” Sierra whispers, making the other two giggle.

Fighting my smirk, I look up to find all three girls staring at me. “Your vitals are good. I want you to eat and walk every day like we talked about. I need you to be in good shape and ready when we hear from UNOS about a new heart for you.”

Emma grins. “She’s totally avoiding the question. If I promise to follow all your rules, will you tell us about the guy?”

“No.” I point at her, shaking my head. “You have to do what I say, no matter what.”

She sticks her tongue out at me.

“Boo. At least tell us he’s hot,” Trinity says.

My mind drifts to Cam. Thick curly brown hair. Warm hazel eyes. Full muscular chest and arms. Washboard abs and firm butt. Big soft lips made for kissing. He is hot.

“Look at her cheeks; they’re red. He’s totally hot, isn’t he?”

Glancing at the door, I make sure Dr. Winters isn’t around. She is the best doctor at the hospital. I’ve been lucky to be placed on her service, to train and learn from her, but I’m still new, and I don’t know how she feels about connecting with patents.

The coast is clear.

“Yeah, he’s hot.”

The girls giggle and ask for details.

I feed their teenage imaginations and tell them about my stethoscope and our upcoming dinner date. They swoon over mynot-boyfriend boyfriend. I enjoy listening to the three of them give me tips on my hair and clothes—hair down, wear a dress. I promise to follow their advice and tell them all about my date next weekend.

When I leave, Emma appears to be in better spirits than when I walked in. There is color in her cheeks. Her vitals are strong and stable.

This is the part of my job that I love—watching my patients gain the strength to push through even the worst of odds. Hope blooms in my chest for Emma. She’s resilient. She can get through this.

We just need a call from the transplant registry to come through soon.

“I missed you, itty bitty,” Cam croons, his voice low and gritty. He’s on his way home from the airport where he and the team returned after three long weeks on the road.

I step in front of the storage closet and look both ways, checking to make sure the coast is clear before opening it and stepping inside. Shelves line the small room from wall to wall, with neatly labeled bins filled with every medical supply you could think of.

“Can I see you? I’ll drive there right now, even if I only get to see you for a second.”

My stomach dips and soars, taking away the anxiety and replacing it with a tingling sensation—a feeling I now associate with Cam.

“I want that too, but I’m crazy busy. I barely had time to hide in the storage closet to talk to you. We are short on nurses, and I offered to help until they could find someone else to cover.”

“You have a good heart. I hate it,” he groans, making me chuckle.

“No, you don’t.” I spy an upside-down mop bucket in the corner and take a seat. It seems like I’m not the only one who slips away for a second to rest their aching feet.

“No, I don’t. What time should I pick you up for dinner tonight?” he asks.

“Cam.” I sigh. “You know you can’t do that.”

“I know.” I can hear the frustration in his tone.

I hate having to sneak around too, but we need time to figure out if our connection is just infatuation. What if the forbidden aspect is all we have?

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