Page 122 of Charmed, I'm Sure
“What’s up, doc?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
The rest of the shift had flown by in a blur, and I was ten minutes away from getting out of here with my girl. Yeah, the circumstances weren’t ideal, but I’d take what I could get.
“That little”—she paused, scanning the floor to make sure no patients were within earshot, then dropped her voice to a whisper—“shit in bed two just left AMA.”
I grimaced. A patient leaving against medical advice always meant more paperwork—paperwork they were supposed to sign before walking out. But I guessed her patient didn’t feel like sticking around.
“Shit. I’m sorry. Need help with anything?”
“Yeah, can you mark him AMA in the system and print the forms for me? I’d ask Rhonda, but she’s already up to her elbows in triage, and I really need to pee.”
I made a face. “I really didn’tneed to know that.”
“Buck up, Dr. Hallows. And thank you!” she called as she darted toward the staff bathroom.
My laugh died the second I pulled up Megan’s patient’s chart.
Kyle. Fucking. LeBlanc.
31
Cats are bossy
Magnolia
Myeyeswereheavy,a dull ache forming at my temples as the streetlights strobed past the car windows. I was so freaking tired—physically, mentally, emotionally, all of it.
“Are you hungry?” Taylor asked softly, his hand tightening around mine where it rested on the center console.
He hadn’t let go since he met me outside Aunt Evie’s room at the end of his shift. He’d laced his fingers with mine, guiding me along as he said goodbye to his coworkers and walked me out of the emergency room. He’d held them tighter as we crossed the parking lot, the gentle pressure a comfort against the turmoil in my mind. But he never said a word. He didn’t try to make small talk or convince me that everything was going to be okay. He didn’t pepper me with questions about how I was doing or what I’d been up to.
He was justtherefor me, like an old, sturdy oak withstanding gale-force winds.
And, Mother above, I was grateful for that.
Grateful forhim.
“Sunshine?” Taylor’s voice pulled me from my thoughts as his thumb swept lightly over my knuckles.
I hummed in response.
“Are you hungry?” he asked again, a small chuckle in his voice.
“I could eat.”
In all actuality, the answer was a resoundingno. A migraine was coming—I could feel it creeping in at my temples—and that meant nausea, migraine’s unwanted sidekick, wasn’t far behind. But I knew if I didn’t get something in my system, it would hit me harder and faster than it would on a semi-full stomach.
“Do you have a preference? Or do you just want me to find a drive-thru?”
“Anywhere that has hot, salty fries and Coke.”
“As you wish,” he murmured, still tracing soothing lines along my hand.
I smiled at his words, at the memories they invoked, and let my eyes drift closed. He’d turned on my seat warmer, andsweet baby cheeses, did it feel good. I melted into the leather, letting the heat soak into my tired body as the steady rumble of the engine became my sound machine, lulling me into the closest thing to peace I’d felt in over a week.
By the time I opened my eyes again, we were pulling into Taylor’s driveway, the crunch of gravel beneath his tires grounding me. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but even with a power nap, I was struggling to keep my eyes open.
Starbursts of light flared from his porch bulbs, cutting through the darkness. I knew they were practical, but at that particular moment, it felt like someone was driving an icepick straight into my skull. My stomach twisted violently in response.
