Chapter Two

Laura

I couldn't help the smile that fixed itself to my face as the big, broad-shouldered, long-haired man stormed out of my exam room. Okay, he hadn't stormed out exactly, but he left in a hurry, and he wasn't pleased about my rejection. But it was oh so damn satisfying to be able to put that man in his place. He was handsome, ridiculously so if tall men with long, dark hair, a lazy gait, well-worn jeans, shoulders broad enough to span the doorway and a dazzling smile was your type. But it wasn't my type. I could appreciate a pretty thing without wanting it. Pretty things, especially wrapped up in a six-foot plus package were trouble, usually more trouble than they were worth. Especially if they turned up in the ER with what was obviously a knife wound. By rights I should have reported it, but he'd insisted it was an accident, and he didn't appear to be scared for his life, so I let it go.

To his credit, Mr. Bennett hadn't tried to change my mind the way a lot of men did, both inside and outside the hospital. Even my ex had taken a lot longer than a grown man should to get the hint that breaking up with him and moving out meant we were well and truly done. Even with broken bones, chronic illnesses, or life-altering news, men found a way to shoot their shot.

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to straightening the exam room and preparing for the next patient. The emergency room was a nonstop parade of terrible shit every single day, because of course it was. Nobody came into the ER because their cancer was in remission or because they'd learned how to walk again after a catastrophic auto accident. I loved my job, I really did, but it wasn't always easy.

"Knock, knock. Hey, girl, you free for a few minutes?" Kristy wore a hesitant smile as she bounced on her toes in the doorway. "I'll be your best friend forever."

I laughed. "You already are. What's up?"

"Tyrone is back for his next shot and he's… let's say he's anxious."

My shoulders sagged because I had to help her. Tyrone was almost three hundred pounds of solid muscle, he had to be as a former pro football player, but he also had a huge phobia of needles and anything remotely medical. It kept life interesting. "I'm on my way." Once the room was back to rights, I exited and followed the sound of Tyrone's deep baritone begging to the heavens to save him.

"Miss Laura." He grinned, his body strung tight as he eyed the needle in Kristy's hand. "How you doing?"

"Better than you, Ty." I flicked my gaze to the needle and back to his face. "You've been hit by men much bigger than this itty-bitty needle."

"That was work. I had no choice."

I could work with that excuse. "You don't have a choice here either. You don't get that shot and you put your health and your life at risk. Ignore Kristy and tell me about your date with the ballet dancer." I took the seat to his left while Kristy gave him the much-needed jab.

"Thank you," he and Kristy answered at the same time.

"All in a day's work."

From Tyrone it was another few hours of nonstop running around with patients who used the ER as everyday healthcare because they had no choice, typical auto and drinking accidents, and my personal favorite, DIY injuries. The days were always long, but they were never boring.

But at about the tenth hour, I was ready to drop where I stood and fall into the deepest sleep of my life. "Kristy, tell me you're on break too."

She glanced down at her smart watch and shook her head. "My break doesn't officially start until I'm in line in the cafeteria, so let's go."

We took the lesser-known path down to the hospital cafeteria to avoid being seen or roped into something that would inevitably delay our break. The large cafeteria was half full and we each got in line, me to grab a chicken salad and Kristy to get enchiladas, before we met at a table along the wall.

"I feel like I haven't eaten in days."

Kristy's eyebrows shot up. "And you chose a salad? Here, let's split lunch so I'll get something healthy, and you get something substantial."

"You just want to give me more calories," I joked.

"Oh please, like your body isn't smoking hot under those hideous scrubs." She motioned across the table at me. "Those are, what, at least two sizes too big?"

"They're comfortable," I answered without revealing they were three sizes too big. You got used to being hit on by drunks in the ER—they'd even hit on Resus Annie, the dummy we used to practice CPR, if they got a chance—still, wearing loose clothing helped as a detractor.

"Tell me about the long-haired hottie you treated today." She wiggled her brows suggestively and I laughed.

"What long-haired hottie?"

"No, don't even try it with me. Give me the details. Now." She had on her stubborn expression that told me I wouldn't get out of this conversation.

"He was insanely good looking," I agreed easily because there was no point denying it. "But he was arrogant. And a fighter."

Kristy laughed. "And we know how much you loathe pugilists," she said dramatically, making no secret of what she thought about that. "Maybe he was fighting because he was protecting someone else."

"He tried to give me some crap about it being a box cutter injury, but I wasn't buying it." Men who fought, in my opinion, would eventually turn that anger and violence onto the women beside them. I'd seen enough in the ER to spot trouble a mile off. And that long-haired, swaggering hottie was trouble with a capital T.

"Maybe, but I think you're incredibly biased when it comes to fighters. Some people won't back down until you show them why it's a smart move for them." Her eyes lit with mischief.

"Speaking from personal experience?"

She shrugged. "Maybe I've had to throw a fist or two in my life. The point is that sometimes it's unavoidable and you should cut him some slack."

"You were eavesdropping!" I said, shocked, and pointed a finger at her.

Kristy grinned. "And what exactly did I overhear, Laura?"

My shoulders slumped at how easily I walked into that trap. "You're a sneaky bitch."

"And don't you forget it. Now, spill."

I shook my head before I launched into the brief tale of our interaction. "I think he only asked because that's what men do. Plus, he was trying really hard to hide the pain." And yeah, that was kind of adorable, but also kind of toxic.

"Or because you're hot as hell and really good in an emergency." At my unconvinced look, Kristy groaned her frustration. "Let me guess, you rejected him outright."

"Of course I did, he was my patient. Also, he was arrogant and probably a fighter. Those are two giant red flags that I'm steering clear of, thank you very much."

"Not everyone is he who we will never name ," she said, talking about my ex.

"Not everyone, no. But this guy is just the opposite side of the same coin. I turned him down and he's moved on, I'm sure, so there's no point in talking about it anymore." A man that handsome and self-assured probably asked out every halfway attractive woman he came across, and I wasn't interested in being a notch on anyone's bed post.

Kristy sighed. "All I'm saying is that you have to give someone a chance at some point."

"Yeah, sure, maybe. I will someday in the future when I'm interested again. And when I'm ready." I wasn't in a rush to add a man to my life again, and he would have to be a damn good man for me to even consider. I doubted Box Cutter Man was my knight in shining armor.

"At least come out with us tonight. You don't have to bat your lashes at anyone, just have a few drinks and shake your booty on the dance floor with me. Please?"

"Fine. I'm on the noon to midnight shift this weekend anyway." I bit back a sigh. Going out wasn't really my thing, at least not after a twelve-hour shift, but I promised Kristy, which meant I needed to dig deep and find my joy before tonight.

"Yay! I'll come over and we'll get ready together."

I opened my mouth to tell her I wasn't planning on getting all dressed up for drinks and dancing with the other nurses, but the PA system in the cafeteria blared with a warning that a motor vehicle accident on the interstate had multiple victims and they were all headed here. "Later," I said, and jumped to my feet, taking one last bite of my salad before rushing out of the cafeteria to see where I could help.