chapter Four
Emily
“You came back.” Jake grinned when I came in that night. He was sitting up in bed, and he looked ten times better than the night before. He set aside a magazine. He moved it too quickly for me to see which one it was.
“I told you I would.” I picked up his arm and put the blood pressure cuff on.
“Yeah, but I was kind of afraid you’d switch patients at the last minute.”
“Nope. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me tonight.” I pressed start on the monitor.
“I don’t think ‘stuck with’ is the right choice of words. More like, I’m the luckiest patient on the floor.”
“I’m also seeing another patient next door…but he’s unconscious.” I removed the cuff, and took his hand so I could get a pulse ox on his finger.
“So I’m okay as long as you don’t get any ideas when he wakes up.”
“He’s eighty-six.”
Jake smiled this breathtaking grin. “I think I got this one then.”
I laughed. “I need to take your temperature.”
“Please do.”
I put the thermometer under his tongue, and he watched me intently the whole time. Had he been an old man, I would have called it gross. Coming from an attractive twenty-three year old, it didn’t bother me.
The thermometer beeped, and I removed it from his mouth.
“How did it go with your family?” I probably shouldn’t have asked, but he’d seemed so nervous about it.
“Better than expected in some ways, and worse in others.” He struggled to sit up more.
I helped him with his pillows and his hand brushed against mine. The brief contact was comforting, and I wanted more of it. “Isn’t that how most things usually go?”
“That’s very true. Can I ask you something now?”
“Sure, but I might not answer.” Talking about him was one thing, but I didn’t particularly want to talk about myself.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m your nurse. Or have you forgotten?”
“I just mean why would a girl like you be working nights like this? Wouldn’t you rather be out?”
“We don’t all have that option,” I said bitterly.
“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it. I guess this is just my backwards way of asking if there’s a guy waiting for you at home.”
“Shouldn’t you have asked that question before trying to get my number?”
He grinned again. “I figured that might have been your hesitation.”
I could have lied and told him I had a boyfriend, but what was the point? “No. There’s no guy waiting at home.”
“It’s not like me to risk getting rejected twice, but it’s worth it this time. Can I get your number?”
“That would be pretty unprofessional of me.”
“I won’t call until I’m out of here. I won’t be your patient anymore.”
I bit back a smile. “You know, you can be pretty persuasive.”
“So I haven’t completely lost my touch?”
“No.” I made my decision and scrawled my number on a scrap of paper. I went over to where his personal belongings sat, and grabbed his brown, leather wallet.
“What? Are you taking payment for the number? Because I think that might be considered unprofessional.”
“Nothing that extreme.” I folded up the paper and slipped it into his wallet. “If you still want to call after everything, it’s in there.”
His face lit up. “I’m sure that was a pity number, but I don’t care. I’m going to heal better now that I know I’ll see you again.”
“I thought you healed quickly anyway.”
“Yeah, but you can never heal fast enough.”
I laughed. “Take care of yourself, Jake.”
I resisted the urge to look back when I left the room. I wasn’t sure I could handle another one of those grins.