Page 12 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
“What if this was a sign?” I asked.
“Malik Jerome…”
“I’m serious, Ma. I’m not trying to fix her or hurt her. I’m trying to get to know her.” I took another sip. “And maybe show her what it feels like to have someone in her corner. And when something comes from that, I’m taking that too. But no pressure.”
“Lord, have mercy. You’ve got too much confidence for your own good. Always had too much dip on your chip.”
“Confidence got me this far. I can’t turn my back on my superpower now.”
“Confidence is one thing. But that woman’s been hurt, baby. And her focus should be on her son, not your big-headed tail. And if she’s the one, nothing is going to come easy unless she’s just as dizzy over you as you are over her.”
That made us both laugh. I was hoping she was. I’d seen the way her eyes lingered on my hands, heard how her voicesoftened when I said her name. I wanted both her and Samaj to trust me, but what I wanted from her felt a lot more personal than professional. I knew better.
“I think she might be mama. Mark my words, Sametra will be my wife.”
“Well in that case son, I’ll send a little prayer up for you. Get some sleep.”
After we hung up, I headed upstairs to shower, but my mind was anywhere but on getting clean. Water ran over me as I thought about Sametra, how she’d probably try to boss me around tomorrow, challenge me every time she opened those perfect lips. I was looking forward to letting her think she was in control for a while, just to see that fire in her eyes when I reminded her who was really the fucking boss.
Most women I dated, and I’m using dating loosely, were easy, predictable, manageable, and forgettable. Sametra was everything but that. She was going to make me put in work. Real work. And for her I didn’t mind. I could already see the reward in the end zone. She was going to test me in ways I hadn’t been tested. She was going to make me sweat and keep coming back for more. I couldn’t wait. I was persistent within means. I was going to pursue her when the time was right, and when I did, I wasn’t going to leave anything to question.
I turned off the water, already planning tomorrow’s session. If I played my cards right, I’d figure out how to get close enough to show her exactly what she’d been missing.
Sametra Andrews was about to become my favorite challenge.
And I’d always been good at winning.
THE NEXT MORNING
I arrived at the hospital early, before the halls filled with the murmur of morning rounds and people asking too many questions. St. Ambrose was one of the most prestigious hospitals on the West Coast, world-renowned, cutting-edge, the kind of place where surgeries made journals. Running my own PT division here was a blessing. I had the funding, the freedom, and the respect. My career was everything to me. Which is exactly why I understood what my mama meant about not mixing business with personal shit.
It was also why I had rules about patients, their families, and coworkers.
But this was different. This was Sametra. Rules didn’t apply when it was forever.
I was tripping, and I knew it. That didn’t stop me from swinging by the coffee cart on the corner for two cups of coffee and some kolaches. I figured she could use something better than hospital food.
I checked Samaj’s chart first when I made it in. His vitals were stable, and pain was managed with a low dose of pain meds. He looked good to start gentle range-of-motion exercises. Sametra was ready for discharge, and I knew she would be happy about that.
But it was the note from the night nurse that caught my attention.
Patient’s mother has been in the room since 2 AM. Refused breakfast. Declined pain medication for her own injuries. May need intervention.
Of course she did. Stubborn-ass woman. I grabbed the breakfast from my desk along with their charts and headed to the elevator. I rode up silently, planning what I was going to say to her. Little mama needed to fall in line.
I found her exactly where I expected to find her, sitting beside Samaj’s bed, still in yesterday’s clothes, watching her son sleep, afraid to blink in fear that something would go wrong. The speech I had prepared flew out the window. Gone. Poof. She was a mom first, patient second, and fine as hell on both counts. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail on top of her head. Even exhausted and wrinkled, she was something to look at.
“Morning, LT,” I said quietly, not wanting to wake Samaj.
Her body stilled when she heard my voice. She looked up, and I could see the exhaustion weighing on her. Guilt and love had kept her awake all night. But there was something else when she saw me, I’d call it relief. She’d been waiting for me to show up.
“How long you been here?”
“A while.” She straightened in the chair, trying to look more composed than she felt. “Is he ready to start? The PT?”
“Soon. But first, we need to talk about you. You hardheaded, ain’t you?”
“I’m fine. Look at me,” she replied tossing her arms up like that proved anything to me.
