And I’m here for it.
“Have we met before?” I ask, narrowing my eyes to study her features more closely. Creamy skin. High cheekbones. Ski-slope nose. Still, nothing. “I know it sounds cliché, but I feel like we’ve met before.”
She rolls her eyes. “Let me guess, you never forget a pretty face?”
“Well, now that you mention it…”
“I need to get back out on the floor,” she says, adjusting the stethoscope hanging around her neck. “Just push the call button if you need anything.”
“So if I get bored and need someone to talk to,” I say, holding up the call button, “I can push this and you’ll come check on me?”
“It’s a call button. Not an escort service,” she warns, pointing a finger at me. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Chapter Three
Harper
It’s like everybody’s got that Friday feeling.
I’m running around like a madwoman, answering call buttons, checking vitals, and generally trying not to lose my mind. After four days in the surgical unit, I thought I was getting the rhythm of the floor, but no.
Hell, it’s all I can do to get the med cart right with Nurse Rogers breathing down my neck.
The only positive? I’ve been able to avoid Chase’s room for most of the day. Which is good since he’s taken up permanent residence in my brain. Before I walked into his room this morning, I’d have described my guilt as eleven out of ten. Now it’s a solid twenty.
So not the time for dramatics.
Or letting Chase Spellman get up in your head.
Right. This isn’t school. If I screw up the meds, there are real consequences. Not that Nurse Rogers won’t check my work, but giving her reasons to fail me is high on my list of things not to do. Right above partying on Greek Row, cutting loose, and generally falling prey to any more of Bri’s bad ideas.
What about your own impulses?
Nope. Not going there. It’s the straight and narrow for me from here on out until graduation.
I glance down the hall at Chase’s room. The door is half-closed, giving him a modicum of privacy. He hasn’t had any visitors today and he’s got to be bored out of his mind. It’s a beautiful day, far too nice to be cooped up in a sterile hospital. Alone, nonetheless.
Shit. Maybe I was too hard on him with the wholedon’t-abuse-the-call-buttonthing. From what I can tell, he’s the only patient on the floor who hasn’t used it all day.
I bite my lower lip. Maybe I should go check on him? Just to make sure he doesn’t need anything.
I drum my fingers on the top of the cart, considering.
It’s the least I can do, right?
But no, I’ve already done enough. How would Chase feel if he knew I was the reason he was laid up in that bed, forced to withdraw for the semester? He’d made it seem like no big deal, but I’m not stupid. Losing scholarship money and withdrawing?
That’s a big freaking deal.
He was probably just trying to save face. No one is that forgiving. And having the person responsible nurse you back to health? Talk about kicking a guy while he’s down.
“Miss Payne.”
“Huh?” I glance up to find Nurse Rogers watching me.
“You better get your head on straight,” she says, planting a hand on her bony hip. “You mess up those meds, you’ll never get your license.”
