Page 6 of Saving Noah

Chapter 3

Thank goodness it’d been a slow day in the ER at Atlanta General Hospital. All that remained was the tedious paperwork required at the end of every shift and he’d almost completed that task. Zachary’s head throbbed as if he had a hangover, but a puppy-over would be closer to the truth. Last night, one of the longest nights of his life, led to him learning a valuable life lesson—no matter how tiny the animal was, they could still make a hell of a lot of noise. He’d probably slept a total of one hour, in scattered fifteen minute intervals. If lying awake and listening to puppies’ whimpers and whines were his only problem, he could probably have bounced into his day without much trouble. It was more than that, though.

While wide awake, his mind had conjured images John: John in the sexy getup he’d been wearing last night; John sending him one of his shy smiles as they shared the same elevator—shy smiles he always promptly ignored, of course; John looking totally lost and alone at the gym, surrounded by other people who never spoke to him; John’s blue eyes lighting up with pure happiness when he would ignore Zach’s glares and pet Denala.

John opening his apartment door to the countless men.

Fuck, now he was not only exhausted, but the way his head ached and his face hurt led him to suspect his blood pressure had shot off the charts. He got pissed every time he thought about those men being anywhere near John. Connor was right; they weren’t fucking him for money, but they sure as hell weren’t over there playing innocent board games. No, there was sex involved. Wicked sex. Naughty sex. Dirty sex. Sex requiring costumes.

Now, he could add horny to the fuck-up-Zach’s-day list. The idea of bar-hopping with Connor had a groan rising in his chest, even if that was exactly what he needed—to get laid. A dirty fuck where the only thing he worried about was busting a nut. That would get John out of his head.

He signed his name to the last of the paperwork and silently reprimanded himself for being such an idiot. He wasn’t fooling anybody; he couldn’t get John out of his head. He could either move or learn to live his life sporting a hard-on for someone who could never be his.

Why can’t he be yours?Why in the hell not?

He gave the annoying and impatient voice inside his head the age-old answer all parents used.Because.

With more effort than it should have taken, he plastered on a fake smile and handed the paperwork over to the nurse manning the ER’s nursing station. “That’s it for me, Lydia. I’ll see you guys in two weeks.” Thank goodness his name was only on the ER rotation for every other Saturday. He worked the hospital daily, but managed to dodge the hustle and bustle of the ER for the most part.

Lydia glanced up at the clock and winced. “Wow. This shift has flown by. We hit the floor running this morning, and it never slowed down, did it?” She smiled at him. “I’m pulling a double. Pray for me.” She took his paperwork and started going over it immediately. It was her responsibility to disseminate the physician’s orders to the nurses on duty. “Have a good one, Dr. Meadows.”

Just as he turned to leave, the man next to Lydia hung up the phone and called his name. Zach struggled to remember the man’s name.Thomas! That was it. Thomas Banks. Give Zach a prize, being practically brain dead didn’t hamper his memory.

“Yes, Thomas? What can I do for you?” He looked at Thomas with what he hoped was a friendly face, because what he’d wanted to ask was ‘what in the fuck do you need.’ Exhaustion made him grouchy.

The guy’s eyes flickered down and then back up to him. “Oh, it’s Trey, Sir.” Then he shook his head and added, “That’s not important, though. I shouldn’t have corrected you. I’m sorry.”

Shit. Was he that big of an asshole? He didn’t think so. If he was, he needed to have his ass handed to him in a pretty pink bag. “Yes, you should have, Trey. I’m tired but that’s no excuse to call somebody by the wrong name. I’m the one who needs to apologize. Sorry about that. Now, what can I do for you?” This time he meant it, because he felt like an ass.

“Uh…okay…yeah.”

Zach waited and then nodded for him to continue.

“Oh! Right,” Trey said quickly. “Didn’t you move into the Peachtree Heights apartment complex a few months back?”

He paused, wondering where this was going. “Yes. Why?”

“The EMTs are bringing somebody in from your building. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to stay.” He blushed and shrugged. “You know, in case you know them.” Suddenly nervous again, Trey looked down at his notes and started studying them like they held the cure for cancer and recipe for world peace. “He must not be carrying any identification. All they gave me was a twenty-two-year-old male with the name listed as John Doe.” He gave another shrug. “Weird. They know his age but not his name.”

The ground shifted beneath Zach. It couldn’t be. His name couldn’t be John Doe. That would be beyond ridiculous. It didn’t matter, though. In his head, alarms bells rang loud enough to wake the dead.

His apartment complex.

John.

Twenty-two years old.

Zach wasn’t taking a chance. He’d see for himself. “What’s the injury, Trey?”

“Head wound.” He shifted through the paperwork. “It doesn’t really say what type of head wound—just heavy bleeding and patient is unconscious.”

It didn’t make one bit of sense given their relationship…or lack of relationship, but he couldn’t deny the fear causing his heart to seize. Of course, none of his feelings about John contained one shred of logic. He disliked him for no good reason whatsoever, but also liked him a hell of a lot more than he should. Could you dislike and like someone at the same time? Never in his life had he been so physically attracted to another man. Ever.

“I think I’ll wait around,” he told Lydia and Trey. “I’m sure Dr. Stevens won’t mind the help.” They were always short-staffed, and though he’d been exhausted moments before, the unwarranted adrenaline rush of hearing his John might be injured gave him new energy.

Fuck, when did John becomehis?

He was being ridiculous anyway. There was no way it was his neighbor. They had the best security in Atlanta, and since John never seemed to leave the building, he had to be perfectly safe…doing whatever in the hell he did every damned day. No, Zach was wasting his time. He could already be in his car and weaving his way through the parking garage.

---