Page 4 of The Temporary Roomie: Extended Edition

“Cool! So . . . have any fun plans this weekend?”

“Sleep,” I say around a bite of the bar. Normally, I’d give a better effort at conversation, but not today. I can’t. I’m about to give up on everything and curl into a ball on this nasty hospital floor, then sleep for a minimum of eight hours.

“Oh, yeah! I bet you’re exhausted. Well . . .”

I can see the sliding double doors. I’m almost out of here.

Shannon takes two extra steps to get a little ahead so she can turn and face me, walking backward. “After your beauty sleep, if you’re bored and need something to do, I’m around. Call me.”She wrinkles her nose in what’s supposed to be a cute smile before she hands me her number on a piece of paper and bobs off, but I don’t like it. Not one bit.

First, I’m not going to call her because I have a policy of not getting involved with anyone I work with. It’s just how I do things. It makes life easier and drama-free in my career. Second, I’m not going to call her because if I do manage to get any downtime this weekend, I will use it to do absolutely nothing.

My sister, Lucy, and her four-year-old son, Levi, were living with me until recently when she married my best friend, Cooper. Before she lived with me, Cooper was my roommate, and before that, I roomed with a few other guys from med school. It’s been years since I’ve lived alone, and I’m ready to enjoy my empty house on my time off. Maybe I’ll walk around in my underwear. No—naked! Yeah, that’s it, I’ll become a nudist when I’m home. Free to sit my naked ass anywhere I want.

I’m six feet from the exit when another nurse steps into my path.For the love.

“Dr. Marshall! So happy I ran into you!”

What is happening? Is this a joke? Does everyone know I’m about to die of exhaustion and they’re pranking me? Because honestly, nurses don’t talk to me like this. I always have a firm, unapproachable wall up.

“Hey . . .” I trail off because Ido notknow her name.

“Heather! I’m Heather. I assisted you on the Murphy family’s birth last week.”

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry, Heather.” Not right. I don’t remember her.

She smiles wider. “Yeah, no problem. Anyway, just . . . wanted to see if maybe you’d be interested in getting a drink at some point? There’s a really great bar on Second Avenue I’ve been wanting to try.”

Am I in some sort of twilight zone? What. Is. Happening?

“Uh—thanks for the offer. I really appreciate it.”I really appreciate it?!What am I, turning down a job offer? “I actually have a rule, though, that I don’t date colleagues. It just keeps everything simple; you know?”

This time I do muster up a smile, although I’m afraid it looks closer to a grimace. Oh well. Everyone needs to get out of my way so I can go sleep. Heather does not get out of my way. She stays firmlyinthe way.

“Sure, and that’s a great rule.” Her shoulder hitches up coyly. “But surely you could make an exception just this once.” Her lashes flutter, and it makes my eyes feel even drier. “I bet we could have areallygood time together.”

Subtle as a freight train, Heather.

I’m not proud of it, but I’m in survival mode now, so I pull my phone from my pocket and look at the screen, pretending to be getting a phone call at six in the morning. “Sorry, I don’t think . . . oh, excuse me, I gotta take this.”

She looks crestfallen for sure, but I don’t stick around long enough to give her a chance to respond. I hike my backpack more firmly onto my shoulder and press my phone to my ear. I make it two steps before Siri asks loudly, “How may I help you?”

Nice. Smooth.

I don’t look back to see if Heather heard. I walk at a frantic pace to my Jeep, hoping no one else will appear out of thin air and proposition me.Definitely not something I’ve ever thought before.I make it to my old Jeep, throw my bag in the back seat, and then slide into the passenger seat and lock the doors behind me. I’m not sure what was happening in that hospital, but clearly everyone has lost their minds.

Leaning my head back against the headrest, I debate calling an Uber because I know driving this drowsy is not safe. I pry my eyes open enough to request a ride and then sink back against the seat again, preparing to doze until it arrives.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

My eyes fly open, and I shoot up so fast I give myself whiplash. Something snaps angrily in my neck. That, however, is the least of my worries right now. No, instead, I rub the now sore spot in my neck while turning to look at Dr. Susan Landry, one of the other doctors who works in the same practice as me.

Feeling safe that it’s not another nurse about to come on to me, I roll down the window.

She chuckles, eyeing the dark rings under my eyes. “You look terrible.”

“Thank you for noticing. I feel terrible too.”

I like Susan. She’s an amazing doctor, and we’ve always had a great working relationship. There’s no nonsense between us. We never see each other outside of work, and we keep everything professional. It’s just how I like it.

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