Wildfire - Jo-Anne Joseph Page 0,7

him, all the while feeling his friend’s eyes on my back.

“I can. It just hurts like hell when I do.”

“That’s ’cause you’re a pussy.” His friend stands and walks over to the bed. He folds his arms over his broad chest, towering over me.

“I think he’s broken it. Paramedics said the same thing.” He looks down at me. Mr. Know-it-all.

“You can wait out there.” I look up at the guy who is crowding me. I motion to the waiting area outside the bays.

“I’ll stay. Thank you.” Suit yourself, I think. His jaw ticks and I wonder what his deal is. He seems pissed at the world. I get that his friend is hurt, but does he have to be such a dickhead? Aren’t Firemen supposed to be polite?

“Well, you need to get out of my way if you are.”

He reluctantly takes a seat in the chair he vacated.

“Wanna tell me what happened then?” I say as I wash my hands.

Kyle proceeds to tell me about the fire, the staircase caving in, and how his friend saved him. I look over at the asshole, and he glares right back at me.

I pause to make notes on the file. He’ll need an X-ray and some blood work. The doctor will tell him that when she comes in. I use scissors to cut open the leg of his pants so I can see the damage. He flinches even at the slightest touch. Definitely a break. I use gauze and some water to clean up the scrapes on his leg and the small cut on his face and put up an IV drip.

“Ah, Ocea, back already? You and I shouldn’t bother leaving for the night,” Dr. Kent says in a cheery voice as she steps into the bay.

I smirk. “They should get us cots so we can move right in.” She’s right. We’re always working double shifts and extended hours. She’s recently divorced, and throwing herself into work has been her coping strategy. It seems to be working. Moira is less angry and more herself. It sucks to have your husband cheat on you, then blame it on the fact that you can’t have kids. As if Dr. Kent asked to have her womb removed at twenty-six after an accident said husband caused driving intoxicated.

“So, how are we doing over here?” she asks Kyle.

“Just fine and dandy, ma’am. Sweet like chocolate,” Kyle drawls, and I have to hold back a snicker. Dr. Kent has that effect on men. She’s a sexy, redheaded bombshell, with eyes as green as emeralds. I’ve always thought she’d make a perfect Poison Ivy. The man is obviously smitten.

“This is Mister Kyle Wills, Doc, seems to have a broken leg, and I’ve written him down for a blood test and a chest X-ray. He was injured in a house fire,” I summarize. “His vitals are satisfactory, blood pressure slightly elevated, but it’s understandable.”

“You good with that, Mr. Wills—”

“Oh, it’s just Kyle to you, Doc.” He licks his lips, and I have to stifle a laugh.

“Down boy,” she warns. “I’d also like an ABG on him for the smoke inhalation. Just to be sure. He sounds a bit phlegmy,” Dr. Kent says, and I scribble that down.

“Bloods and ABG on them both. Mr…? I suggest, motioning to where Bossy frowns from his seat in the corner.

“Wild,” he answers, his head cocked to the side, observing me. If only his looks could make up for his stinking attitude.

“Mr. Wild also had some smoke exposure,” I add.

“It’s unlikely I was affected. Yeah, I was exposed for a few minutes, but I feel fine. So no. I don’t need treatment,” he bites, his jaw set, eyes hard and unrelenting.

“As you wish,” I shrug, turning back to the chart. “I was just trying to be helpful. Doing my job.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not your patient, Ms. Nightingale,” he sneers.

“Is that supposed to be a dig?” I snort. Pretty lame.

“Take it any way you like, sweetheart.” He smirks. The man is riling me up. I’m about to retort when Doctor Kent interrupts, “All right, shall we get Mr. Wills to radiology?”

I nod before taking my leave. The things I want to say to that cocky bastard.

I call the lab and a porter to take my patient to radiology.

“What was that about?’ Dr. Kent asks when she joins me at the nurses’ station.

“Argh. I don’t know. I’m probably just tired. Letting that guy get to me.”

“He is pretty frustrating.” She scrunches her nose. “That smug attitude.”

“We should head