Page 10 of Life To My Flight

“Fuuuuck,” I groaned. “I’m at my grandmother’s. You weren’t supposed to work today!”

My whine was evident, even to me.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “But it’s not my fault. I was called in because Rita called in sick again. You know they have to have someone willing to come in. It’s not like I could’ve said no. The boss is my mother.”

I snorted. Rita was the charge nurse, and Cody’s mom was the ER director. She was the one whom everyone went to if they had a problem. She was incredibly busy, and Cody and I tried to help her out anytime she needed it.

I’m sure the only reason I wasn’t called was that I’d just come off shift.

“Well, fuck me,” I groaned, studiously ignoring the badass that was now throwing his leg off his bike and standing up straight.

“Sorry, chicka. My barn door doesn’t open for the heifers. Only for the bulls,” Cody quipped.

“Oh, my God. I cannot believe you just said that to me,” I said in exasperation. “I need some of your juju. Send it to me and pray my car starts. If it doesn’t, I’m going to sell your Waterford egg.”

“I gave that to you for safekeeping!” He yelled just before I hung up.

Cleo tapped on my window, but I ignored him, and twisted the key again.

It turned, and turned, and turned.

I ignored him, trying to start it one more time.

It turned over, starting with a coughing, choking, smothering roar.

The old diesel engine rumbled like a defective cat’s purr, and I backed out of my spot in a hurry, before slamming my foot down on the gas pedal.

The gravel underneath my car’s tire flew back, pelting the concrete wall behind me.

My poor little car sputtered and groaned as I accelerated out of the parking lot.

I vowed that tomorrow I’d get a new car.

A girl needed a car that was reliable. Especially when I had a man on my heels that was harder on my heart than a supersized order of french fries.

Chapter 2

I love you more than you annoy me, which is a lot.

-E-card

Rue

I blinked my eyes open blearily, glaring at the alarm clock that was spewing its obnoxious tone.

Nobody needs The Beach Boys that early in the morning, regardless of how catchy their tune was.

I had to get up, because it was the type of alarm that moved and shook when it started going off.

Inevitably, it meant it would either roll under my bed and get lost in the great black hole, or it’d roll down the opposite side and get stuck behind the night stand.

Today, however, was the bed.

Rolling off the opposite side, while barely opening my eyes, I followed the vibrating mass of annoyance to the floor, and then further under the bed.

I started out with just my arm underneath, but it finally went to the entire length of my body.

My hand closed around the ball, and it quieted instantly.

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