Authors: Riley Mackenzie
Residency could have been the topic of a bad Lifetime movie about hazing, minus the drinking and branding. It started at the top and trickled down to interns, who took the brunt. Always. It was a vicious cycle of humiliation all in the name of “medical” training. It wasn’t right.
“It’s still not right, attending or not. No one’s that freaking special. He needs to get over himself. Remember that in a few years when you’re done with all your training and an attending,” I said, not believing for one second that Guy would turn into a stereotypical surgeon. He was better than that.
“Well, he must be doing something right. He’s what, like thirty-six and already fuckin’ Chief of Neuro. He’s published a shit load, and I think he’s even a spokesman for some of that new equipment they’re training us on.” Guy finished tinkering with my tablet and handed it back to me. Envy and determination were in his eyes.
Our moment was abruptly interrupted. “You can make
that
man spokesperson or spokesmodel for just about anything, and I’d buy it.” A sassy voice came out of nowhere. We both looked up at Leanne Crowley, a fifth floor nurse and frequenter of girl’s happy hour. She came out of nowhere.
“Really, Lee?” Guy’s voice deepened to a semi-growl and his expression resembled that of a jealous middle schooler.
“Yes, Dr. Hunter. Really.
I’d
even volunteer to be his test subject.” Leanne flashed her pearly whites and shrugged her shoulders. She knew just how to push Guy’s buttons.
Turning as quickly as she appeared, she walked away with an exaggerated shake of her hips. Guy’s eyes were crazy glued to her assets until she disappeared back into a patient’s room.
Not
staring at Leanne was difficult. She wasn’t just girl next door pretty, she was full on stunning. Her legs started at her chin and she worked that classic Barbie doll figure, big boobs with non-existent hips. Her blonde hair bordered on platinum, a shade that didn’t exist in a box.
When Guy’s eyes finally rebounded back and realized I caught him checking her out, he raised his brow, screaming,
can you blame me
? Nope.
Before he drooled on himself or before my sudden onset of completely unfounded, unjustifiable, unexplainable jealousy clawed its way to the surface, I spoke. “Hey. Let’s run the list so I can go do what I do and not give Dr. Pompous another reason to piss all over the intern again. I hear there’s a limit on how many times you can change your scrubs.”
“When did you get so funny, doll?” Those dimples killed me.
Joking aside, Guy diligently walked me through the list of patients. Who was going home soon, who needed rehab, who was scheduled for the OR, and most importantly, an abbreviated Sanskrit-to-English translation of all the neuro terms that were completely foreign.
Just as we finished with business, something dawned on me. Thanks to Guy, my morning was not total shit. He completely changed the vibe; he fixed it and made it ... enjoyable, even. He let me sleep in, if you called five thirty sleeping in. He covered for me with the new chief and even waited around after rounds to help me out. My insides warmed a degree, nowhere near thawing, but I almost imagined what it would feel like to be with someone again. To trust someone again. To share that part of myself with someone again. Almost.
I needed out of my own head, and I didn’t want my inner debate sending Guy any wrong signals. “Hey, thanks a lot. I really appreciate your help. You rock.” I genuinely meant it.
“Anytime. Gotta run, supposedly Super-Chief doesn’t need sleep and changed the damn OR schedule to start even earlier. I’ve got a laminectomy in five.” He radiated annoyance. “So as much as I enjoy your awesome company, I’d rather skip the Chief’s how-long’s-my-dick show if I can. I’ll see ya later, but make sure you page me if you need help changing Petit’s diaper. Show him who’s boss.”
He squeezed my arm again and sauntered toward the stairs.
Surgeons and stairs.
I didn’t get it.
“Go, run, don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll dazzle him with your lami-whatever skills, and hopefully there will be no need for any showing of man parts.” I winked and smiled. “And thanks again for covering for me this morning. I’m just glad he didn’t notice.”
With one hand opening the steel door, he glanced back looking incredibly handsome and dead serious.
“I never said that, doll. He totally noticed.”
Read other books by Riley Mackenzie
Copyright © 2015 by Riley Mackenzie, LLC
All rights reserved.
ISBN-10: 5928701
ISBN-13: 978-1519777843
Cover design by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations
Interior Design and Formatting by E.M. Tippetts Book Designs
:
Edited by Lori Sabin
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of the above author of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
All songs, song-titles, and lyrics excerpts quoted herein are the property of the respective copyright holders.
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