Page 9 of Safe With You

She isn’t making this easy on me, and I like it. My eyes return to scanning the shelves aimlessly, still learning where the supplies are kept in this unit.

“What are you looking for?”

“Large abdominal pads.”

Her head pops up and she nods to the left. “One shelf above you, left-hand side.”

Jackpot. “Thanks.” I reach to grab a few when she stands to leave, inadvertently placing herself directly in front of me. She must feel the heat from my body, its magnetic attraction to her lagging her down because she slowly pivots until we’re facing each other, nearly chest to chest. She looks up at me, and I meet her gaze with my own, letting my eyes fall to her full lips.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she murmurs, giving a half-hearted attempt to push me away with the back of her hand, but I don’t budge.

“Like what?” I feign confusion.

“Like you’re …thinkingthings. That involve me.”

I smirk, letting my gaze fall all over her face, and I can see the physical reaction she has to me. She can pretend all day long that I disgust her, and maybe in her mind I do, but her body tells a different story.

Setting down the supplies I’ve been holding onto on an empty rack, I raise both arms and rest them on the shelf on each side of her head, testing the boundaries between us as I cage her in. “You have no idea the things I’ve thought that involve you.”

She works her throat in a dry swallow. “I hope your imagination and your hand treat you well because that’s as far as you’re going to get with me.”

An unexpected laughter rips out of me, and I tip my head back to release it. When I look back at her, a hint of a flush crosses her cheeks and crawls down her chest. I dip my head to hers. “Are you so sure about that?”

For the briefest moment, she considers letting herself almost,almost, consider the possibility of her and me. But that momentis brief, and she elbows me aside, offering her most exaggerated eye roll. “See you around, Dr. Ryan.”

Chapter Eight

Ryan

The elevator comes to a smooth halt and dings. Silver doors open wide, and I take a step left, ushering the visitors out and ahead of me before exiting and turning right towards Four West. As soon as the murmur of the nurse’s hub is within sight, my eyes scour for my favorite brunette. She’s impossible to read. There are days I catch her staring at me, oval emeralds smiling in my direction, only to look away and excuse herself from the situation.

I’m not oblivious to the way her breaths quicken when we’re close, the way she looks up and studies my face when she thinks I’m concentrating elsewhere. She stays with me inside the rooms when there is a patient between us to act as a buffer. As soon as it’s down to the two of us, she disappears. Once her shift is over, she’s out the door and disappearing into the night.

She never lingers, never finds a reason to remain back and walk with me. She rarely sits at the nurses' station when she has downtime, and always finds a small job to busy herself if she isn’t caring for patients. That’s number one on my to-do list—figure out why she doesn’t give herself any sort of break.

I’ve gone as far as to drag Jim to that stupid country bar every weekend, hoping to catch her outside of work where her walls are a little thinner, but she hasn’t been back. I’m losing my mind trying to find ways to get to know her.

There is a head of brown hair seated at the desks, and to my frustration, it isn’t Lainey. Instead, it’s Kelly, the one nurse I’ve met so far that I despise. I’m not known for being friendly, but I’d like to think I’m at least cordial with my coworkers.

Not Kelly. She’d rather focus on taking a bathroom selfie than doing her job.

“Kelly,” I bark, pulling her from her precious selfie. “What time is 426 getting their pacer placed? Has cardio been here to consult yet?”

She shrugs, not pulling her eyes away from her phone. I clench my fists at my side, raising a hand to rake my fingers through my hair, tugging firmly at the ends to make it sting just a little, so I don’t rip into her.

With my hands resting firmly on my hips, I stand at her side profile. And wait.

After a minute or two passes, she tilts her gaze to find me watching her. She rolls her eyes, setting her phone on the table in front of her. “I’ll call the catheterization lab to check. I don’t understand why he’s here anyways; we should transfer him to the cardiac unit.”

Useless.

“Well, he was admitted for gallstone removal, and the cardiac issues were an incidental finding during pre-op. You should be happy we discovered the issue before he died, leaving his wife a widow and his children without a father. If you can’t handle caring for a cardiac patient, I’d be happy to make a call and haveyoutransferred.”

She doesn’t respond, instead spins around, lifts the desk phone, and dials.

“I’m going to talk with him about the pacemaker. When you find out the time of his procedure, come into the room and let me know.”

I turn to make my way to his room when she pipes up, “Lainey is already doing that.”

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