okay, I guess.” He moved his arm to demonstrate, but his wince said more than his words.
“Too tight?” Maybe I’d been distracted by his eyes—bright, sparkling green—or his smile.
He shook his head. The move small. Tentative. “Nah. Just, you know…sprained”
“It’s going to hurt for a while longer, I’m afraid. Keep it still, use ibuprofen, and ice for fifteen minutes every hour. You got an ice pack at home?”
“Yes, as a former and current klutz, I keep a spare bag of frozen peas on standby at all times.”
“Ah. The classic medicinal vegetables.” Had to love those home remedies. I almost let my mind go there, but instead, I nodded. “They get mushy. Better take that pack with you, switch it out with the peas when they melt.”
That grin was back. And a cock of his head let the overhead light catch another sparkle in his eyes as he spoke. “You’re too generous.”
“I like to think so.” My cheeks burned. I hadn’t flirted in a while. If that was even what this was.
He wet his lips and the glisten on his bottom lip was as transfixing as the light in his eyes.
My tongue felt heavy and awkward in my mouth, and I was searching for something appropriate to say when the curtain flew open and cranky old Barney, my favorite orderly, shuffled in and motioned to the wheelchair with a nod.
“Barney will take you to radiology.”
“Hey, Barney, what’s up?” Seb turned back to me when the orderly responded with a deadpan grunt. “Will I see you after the X-ray?”
I shook my head. “My shift ends soon. You’re out of my hands now.”
“Damn.” The disappointment flashed on his face before he grinned sweetly and moved past me to the wheelchair. “Well, thanks for patching me up, doc. Maybe I’ll see you again.”
I hated how much I hoped that would be true, and I cleared my throat as I pulled the curtain wide for them to navigate out of the bay. “Come in if you need us but try to stay out of trouble.”
He lifted his hand in goodbye as Barney wheeled him out and called back to me as he rolled down the corridor. “One can only hope!”
2
Sebastian
Damn, that ER doctor was hot. Sore, tired, and feeling sorry for myself, I pictured his handsome face as I made my way home from the hospital on foot. No car for me, and I didn’t want to risk getting my sprained wrist smacked on public transport, so I pounded the pavement and kept my eye on the curb…which looked more dangerous since my fall.
What I’d told Dr. Dish was almost one-hundred percent true—I was on a run of bad luck, and I had no idea why life had taken such a recent shitty turn. All since that one life-fucking moment four years ago when my parents died. Car accident. Big Ben and I all alone. Was that not enough bad luck? I had a soft spot for my brother, even though he was a real man’s man—translation: homophobic asshole. Lucky me, he was the only family I had left.
And now it seemed I was on a fresh roll of bad juju. The doc clearly hadn’t bought my story, but I really had tripped on the curb and landed hard on my wrist in the street. After a late shift at the bar, I’d turned up my street and stood at the curb to wait for a gap in the traffic. Right as a truck rumbled past, I was about to make a dash across the two-lane road when I slipped and fell. I swore someone shoved me, but by the time I’d cried out and blinked through the pain, there was no one in sight.
As for the bruises, I’d told a little fib when he questioned me. A few days earlier, a guy mistook me for someone else. He dug his fingers into my arm and shook me like I was a rag doll before he put his cigarette breath in my face, ranting about a debt I needed to pay. I never thought of myself as having one of those faces everyone said looked like someone they knew, but this guy was adamant. I was his man, and I owed him big time. Maybe I had a debt-ridden doppelganger. Just my luck.
But there was always a little bit of good mixed in with the bad. As my apartment building came into view, I tallied my recent wins against the losses.
One: Roughed up by someone