The Two-Night One-Night Stand (2 page)

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Authors: Ryan Ringbloom

Tags: #The Two Night Stand

BOOK: The Two-Night One-Night Stand
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“Hysterical,” I grumble, rubbing my temple where a headache is slowly starting to form. “Remind me to find a new yoga studio next week.”

“Oh, relax, Holly. He’ll be there any minute and then you’ll be thanking me for introducing you two. I really think you guys will be great together.”

“Sure,” I reply flatly. I’m having some serious doubts and would give anything to be home in bed watching reruns of old sitcoms instead of being stuck here on this blind
-sided
date.

“Okay, I have to run. Good luck and call me tomorrow.” She makes a kissy sound and disconnects, leading me back to the tedious game of looking busy while I wait for the mystery doctor to show. Thank God for iPhones.

Instead of returning to
Yahtzee with Buddies!
, I open up my pictures and begin to scroll. Tyler’s stoic face stares back at me, making my heart sink into a sad little puddle. Our breakup is still brand-new. All right, maybe not
brand-
new, but it’s been ten months and anything under a year is still considered new in my book.

Why?
My brain scrambles for the millionth time to understand what went wrong. Everything between us had seemed so on target. I had been mentally ring shopping for months. Leaving him little hints about the three-stone platinum ring of my dreams. I even had bridal magazines stashed under my mattress. White strapless dresses on thick glossy pages were circled with black marker. My color theme was all picked out. He had been so close to proposing, I knew it was only a matter of time, but that pregnancy scare changed everything.

My mother, my sister, even Jayne have all tried to convince me that it’s for the best. And it is.

I think.

Three witches lean in to take a selfie a few steps away. The last thing I need is to be the sad slutty nurse photobombing in the background. I do my best to mop up my heart puddle and shove my phone back in my purse. A quick sweep of my surroundings shows no sign of Nick, so I decide now is as good a time as any to head to the bar.

“Can I get a Cosmo?” I call out and wave my hand at a bartender wearing black cat ears, who completely ignores me, shaking the tail pinned to her ass as she walks the other way. A second bartender with a bright green wig approaches but ignores me as well, taking the order of the guy pushed up next to me. The guy gets his drinks and once he steps away two girls dressed as geishas rush to where he was and squeeze me out of my place.
Dammit
. By the time they get their drinks, spill some on me, and stumble away, one of the bartenders finally acknowledges me. About fricking time. My patience is all but gone. Fuck it. I change up my drink order. “Can I get a shot of Fireball?” The elbow of a nearby werewolf gets me in the ribs. “Make that two.”

Balancing the two shots, I step away from the crowded bar and back over to my sad, pathetic booth to continue my sad, pathetic wait. Shot one goes down rough. My body shakes as the liquid burns a fiery line all the way down my throat. Once the alcohol reaches my stomach, I convulse with the aftershock, blinking my eyes until they stop watering. Fuck. Me. There’s no way I’m doing the second shot. I push it across the table and sit back in the booth.

If this guy doesn’t get here in the next five minutes, I’m so outta here.

Warmth in my belly travels slowly up to my chest. I can actually feel it coursing through my veins. The heat continues its journey and soon my shoulders drop as I relax into the feeling, a smile stretching across my face. It’s funny, but suddenly, my situation isn’t quite as awkward as it was just a minute ago.
On second thought
.... I reach over for the shot I pushed away and bring it up to my lips. It goes down rough as well, but not as rough as the first one. More warmth spreads.

Okay, Dr. Nick, I’m ready for you.

 

 

 

 

A GUY WALKS into a bar.

What’s the punchline of this joke? That I just worked a fourteen-hour shift and yet was still somehow coerced into showing up at a packed bar on Halloween night. Not my scene at all.

One drink. Two, tops. My bed’s been calling my name ever since the X-ray that revealed a peanut M&M lodged in the nostril of a nine-year-old boy. Three doctors on staff, but of course I was the lucky one assigned the M&M-ectomy. And maybe if he hadn’t squirmed so much it would have only taken one minute to remove versus sixty.

Beer. Now.

Patrick waves me over, and as I move through the crowed bar I spot Kent leaning on the bar next to him.

“You made it.” Patrick pats me on the back, moving over to welcome me into the space between him and Kent. “And you’re in costume.” He laughs, referring to my blue scrubs.

Kent lifts the plastic ID badge clipped to my chest pocket. “Oh, I see you’re going as Dr. Daniels this year.”

I unclip my badge and tuck it inside my pocket. Why must my brothers tease over every little thing? “I’m a PA.”

“Same thing.” Kent exchanges a glance with Patrick, who turns his head away to hide his smile. They both know this statement irks the living hell out of me. A physician assistant is not the same thing as a doctor and I have listed out these differences many, many times. My patience is thin and my exhaustion is not making my mood any better. Patrick sees the growing frustration on my face and diffuses the situation by pulling out his phone to show me pictures of my nieces dressed up in their Halloween costumes. He played dirty and won. Their adorable little faces instantly put a smile back on my face.

“Are all six of them princesses?” I ask, grinning down at the picture. Patrick has six girls. All blonde like their mama, each one cuter than the next.

“Of course.” He beams.

“And Michelle?” I ask. Kent has his phone all ready to hand over to me. His one and only is dressed once again as Superman. Not
Supergirl,
Superman. The same costume every year. My niece is more obsessed with Superman than my brother is. The cuteness she exudes is ridiculous. “I wish I could have seen them in person today.”

It kills me how much I miss with my crazy schedule. Birthdays, holidays, kindergarten graduations, which are apparently a really big thing. I thought once I graduated and settled into a job all that would change, but so far it hasn’t. The ER never stops. I work long, erratic hours. My downtime often seems to always be when no one else is around. I spend a lot of time alone, reading books on history and watching DVR-ed episodes of
Jeopardy!

“It’d be nice if you stopped by a little more often in general,” Patrick says.

“I don’t have time.”

“You have time, you just don’t know how to manage it. When’s the last time you even went on a date?” Kent asks me, even though I’m sure he knows the answer is a long time ago. A
very
long time.

“Like I said, I don’t have time.” I grab the bartender’s attention and point to Patrick and Kent’s empty beer glasses and motion for a third to be added this round.

“You have to make time.” Kent shakes his head. “How are you so smart and so stupid at the same time?”

Patrick jumps in. “Aren’t there girls at your job? Why not ask one of them out? There’s gotta be plenty of nurses.”

“Dating in the workplace. Nope. No, thank you.”

Three pint glasses are placed down in front of us. It’s automatic that Patrick hands me the glass with the most foam spilling over the top. Little brother issues. “It’s a big hospital. You could date someone who’s in a different department, on a different floor,” he says.

I slurp at the foam to keep it from spilling any further. I’d never admit it, but I know they’re right. I should be making friends and dating, but it’s been so long I think I’ve lost my touch… if I ever even had one to begin with.

In school, I was active in a lot of clubs and study groups; that kind of interaction was always easy for me. And thanks to some late-night cram sessions with an eager girl looking to release a little stress before final exams, I actually managed to lose my virginity before graduating college.

At the hospital, I’m fine when it comes to working with my colleagues and treating patients. It’s when it crosses the line into any kind of socializing that I suck. That’s usually when my awkward inner nerd comes out and scares people away. Especially girls.

“Honestly, I don’t even know how to approach a girl. And even if I did, I wouldn’t know what to say. I think I’m a lost cause, guys.” Which is sad because I’m horny as all hell, to the point where my dick has started sending me threatening messages telepathically.

Kent chugs his beer and wipes away at the moisture with the back of his hand. “Well, you need to get over it, little brother, because the right girl… she ain’t gonna just stroll on up and ask you out.”

I chuckle, and am tipping my head back to drink when the glass is nearly knocked from my hand by a stumbling brunette. I clasp onto my beer with one hand and use my other hand to steady a scantily clad nurse. Fishnets being held up at midthigh with little red bows and shiny white heels that are certainly not the proper footwear of a true medical professional adorn the most beautiful legs I’ve ever laid eyes on. The cleavage bursting out of her tight-zippered dress makes me instantly glad for the extra bagginess that my scrub pants offer. I adjust my glasses and drag my gaze slowly upward to find her stunning brown eyes hooded with drunkenness.

“There you are, Doctor,” she says, snaking her arm around mine in a possessive loop. “I’ve been waiting for you to get here all night.”

My eyes go from the pretty little nurse in front of me over to my brothers. Patrick grins. Kent shrugs and chuckles. “Then again, maybe I was wrong.”

 

 

I’M NOT DRUNK but I’m not exactly sober either. Somewhere in the middle. The buzzed zone, where inhibitions are low and confidence is high.

I encourage my blind date away from his friends and over to the table I’ve been hoarding all night, pushing him down onto the cushy booth bench. Nick might have kept me waiting, but after a quick assessment, I decide he certainly is cute enough to make up for it. When Jayne said he was dressing as a doctor, I pictured the traditional store-bought Dr. Feel Good costume, but the scrubs are a nice touch. The thin material gives me a glimpse of his firm broad chest and the short sleeves show off his incredibly toned arms.

“I’m Holly.” I’m sure he already knows my name, but I give the proper introduction anyway. “I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show.” Hazel eyes behind a pair of dark-rimmed glasses lock on to mine, searching. I wait for him to say something, he doesn’t, so I keep talking. “Blind dates, yikes, right?” I make a strained face for emphasis; his stare stays expressionless. “I know your sister told me, but my mind is blank. What do you do in real life for a living?”

He turns his head toward the guys he had been standing with, and his hand runs uneasily through his tousled brown hair. “In real life?” He turns back to face me. “I don’t understand.”

“In real life, like obviously you’re not a doctor, that’s just your costume.” I swipe a hand down over my slutty attire and laugh. “Just like I’m not a real nurse. So, what do you do?”

“I-I,” he stammers and again glances back at his friends. “No, I’m not a doctor.”

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