Read Beautifully Awake Online

Authors: Riley Mackenzie

Tags: #crash

Beautifully Awake (6 page)

“You’re pretty fast. What do you run, a six minute mile?”

It was a voice I could not ignore and had a tone a lot less harsh than what I heard in the OR. This man seriously bounced from emotion to emotion, it was hard to keep up. I popped the earplug from my ear while balancing my foot on the split rail fence and peeked over my shoulder at him.

I inwardly smiled for a couple of reasons, though. Number one, I
was
a pretty fast runner, and the thought that he couldn’t catch up to me was pretty funny, even if he was lying. Number two, he looked
amazing.

A black dri-fit short sleeve shirt clung to his sweat-drenched body. Was it really possible to see each ab through a shirt? I swear to god I saw all six of them. The black running shorts exposed his sickly defined legs, and the trickle of sweat that beaded up across his forehead made his hair have just the right amount of curl. He ran his hand through his hair at that exact moment. I might have stopped breathing.

“So you’re following me?” I was sarcastic—at least I hoped I sounded that way.

He grinned. The tension from the OR had definitely seemed to vanish. “Why not? The view is something else.” He glanced beyond the fence toward the river. Was this his way of flirting? So much for running to clear my head. “I didn’t know you liked to run; you come out here often?”

“Guess I didn’t spill my entire guts last night; something you don’t know, huh. And yes, I love it out here ... it’s typically very relaxing.” I used the tone that Sierra would refer to as snotty.

“Hmmm, good to know. It’s never been my first choice of a workout, but maybe now it will be.” He wiped his brow with the edge of his shirt and took off without a glance back. Oh my god, he was trying to kill me with the tease of his washboard abs. Damn, he so did that on purpose. I sighed, realizing I was holding my breath. He was a mystery I had every intention of solving. I stood motionless with, I’m sure, my mouth hanging open. What a sight. The man was gorgeous.

I obviously wasn’t alone in my thoughts. My gawking was interrupted by a girl who attempted to turn around mid-stride to check out the back of him. She nearly broke an ankle. I couldn’t help but laugh. Unfortunately, the rest of my run was very uneventful.

M
y week seemed to go by in a blur. Work was work. No more drama when your day was limited to rounding, visiting patients and hibernating in an office under a shitload of paperwork. The OR nonsense had seemed to die down. Unfortunately though, this morning Chase decided he wanted me in the afternoon case. Not exactly how I wanted to end my week.

“Where’s Jack?” I asked Sam as we headed down the hall to the OR suite. “I can’t believe he’s missing his favorite surgery.”

“My lucky day—Jack’s at a conference and Guy was being a douche, so Colton said I could scrub.”

“Good for you, Sammy, ’bout time.” I smiled.

“Two weeks and I’m finally seeing the inside of an OR for real, hope I don’t fuck it up.”

“Don’t jinx yourself.”

“Let’s go. It’s Friday and I wanna get out of here before midnight.” We both turned around to Chase’s fast approach. No lab coat. Hair slightly disheveled. So this was what I was missing all week. So freaking hot. I caught myself running my tongue over my dry lips. He was totally staring at my mouth.

“On our way, thanks again for letting me scrub.” Chase nodded and Sam disappeared into the scrub sink area.

“Glad you could come this afternoon, been hiding out all week?” His gaze made it difficult to formulate a thought.

“Lots of paperwork. Lots of patients to tend to this week. I thought having me in the OR was wearing off.”

He squinted just a little. “Never, Blue.”

With that he disappeared into the OR. I hesitated, my composure disintegrating. I’ve never experienced communication through only the eyes and it was unnerving.

With hat and mask on I approached my patient, who appeared only mildly sedated. I took his hand and whispered words of reassurance.

“Ask Lili.” I overheard one of the scrub nurses say.

“What?”

Sam whispered, “They want to know which music station to turn on, seems Colton is only okay with what you pick.”

I raised my eyebrows, guessing the drama from the other day had circled. I turned toward the charge nurse. “It’s the Jason Mraz acoustic Pandora station or the coffee house on Sirius XM, either one.”

“Thanks, he’s finally letting us listen to some music,” the nurse whispered. “It’s been silent until you came.”

All this whispering was awkward—he was just on the other side of the table. I was sure he heard the whole stupid conversation.

“Petit, are we starting anytime today? Let’s go.”

Obviously I was right. Chase was annoyed we were talking about music. What was it with him and music? When I ran into him by the river he wasn’t listening to anything either.

Sam turned to look at the anesthesiologist. “Um, Dr. Jennings, is the patient ready?”

I had been in enough surgeries to know at this point the anesthesiologist needed to deepen the patient’s sedation before they could start.

Sam gave me a small shrug and repeated an octave louder. “We’re ready to start. Is the patient ready?”

Dr. Jennings jumped from his chair. “Oh, um sure, wait, give me a minute.”

“What the hell, Carl?” Chase hissed. “You paying attention? I’m about to make the first incision and he’s not even asleep yet.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. Thankfully the patient was not awake
enough
to hear.

“Yeah, Chase, go ahead, he’s out.”

“Give the blade to Dr. Petit, please, Carol.”

Carol was a scrub tech who worked exclusively with Dr. Colton. From what I could tell she was really good. She seemed to know which instrument to hand Chase before the words left his lips.

“Dr. Petit, here’s your blade,” Carol stated.

Sam’s hand trembled.

“Petit, make the incision,” Chase impatiently snapped.

Finally Sam steadied his hand and made the cut. His mask moved in such a way I could tell he was grinning. Chase took over instructing Sam here and there, asking him questions from time to time. This neurosurgery stuff was something my brain could not comprehend.

“Sam, fuck, what’d you hit?”

I sat up in my chair and my heart leaped into my throat. Chase’s tone was ... frightening.

“I need suction, fuck, Sam, give me the goddamn suction now.”

Sam fumbled as he tried to pass the suction to Chase. The tubing disconnected.

“Fuckin’ A, you’ve gotta be kidding me.” Blood sprayed everywhere. Chase was covered; Sam was soaked. The patient’s heart monitor beeped frantically with sounds that I knew I never wanted to hear. I was sick.

“Shit, Carl!” Nothing. “Carl! What the fuck! You over there, what the hell are you doing? You obviously aren’t fucking monitoring the patient. You better snap out of whatever the hell you’re doing ... hang some fucking blood, goddammit. Sam, step away from the table now—run, I mean
run
and get more blood.”

Sam stepped back and tore his bloody gown from his body and ran.

“Dr. Colton, here, here, I got the suction back up and running.” Carol calmly handed him the working suction.

“Blood’s being hung.” Dr. Jennings seemed back in the game.

“Lili, I want you out of here now!”

My legs were shaky. I paused to get my bearings.

“Fuck, Lili, I said
now
.”

I made a beeline for the swinging door. I ripped off my mask, gasping for air. I had never been in a situation so intense. Uncontrolled tears streamed down my face. I was glued to the window, watching the blood bath in front of me unfold. Chase barked orders as the nurses moved frantically around the room opening new supplies, making phone calls, all the while staring at the heart monitor watching the life in front of them slowly slip away. My heart was breaking. Time stopped. My eyes bounced from the meaningless numbers on the monitor to Chase and back. Carol examined the blood collecting in the suction container, and from what I could tell it seemed to be tapering off.

But Chase’s eyes told the true story. The fear and pure panic in his eyes moments ago now seemed to regress. I unfortunately knew that feeling all too well.

I remained frozen, unable to move if I wanted to. The breath I held finally released. I was emotionally and physically attached to this moment. I wanted to hold him. I needed to tell him that he singlehandedly saved his patient’s life.

Hours later, Chase finally stepped away from the table and ripped his bloody gown and mask from his body. Blood was splattered across his neck. He tipped his chin down to examine his chest. In one fluid motion his scrub top came to stop at his feet. Holy Crap.

Our eyes locked through the window, and within a moment, he was through the swinging door, slowly devouring me with his extremely emotional gaze. He paused a moment to wash the splattered blood from his face and neck before reaching for me. His gentle touch was surprising as our fingers entwined, edging me forward. I followed his pull, causing my mind and heart to equally race. We exited the scrub sink room with some urgency and made our way down the hall.

“Where are we going?” I was breathless.

He was silent, stopping at the first on-call room. Releasing my hand, he opened the door and flipped on the light. Why were we in this room?

He turned around to face me. The teasing tiny peeks of sun kissed chiseled chest and abs were now completely exposed and burned into my brain. Unintentionally
or not,
my eyes continued their downward track. His scrub pants sat low on his hips, revealing the most erotic V-cut I had ever laid eyes on. My breath caught.

He reached to a high shelf to grab a towel. A beautiful tattoo ran along the edge of his ribs. It seemed to be some sort of Chinese characters. My eyes slowly rebounded. He wiped the sheen of perspiration off his face, neck and chest, dropping the towel to the floor. Then, in one fluid, perfectly timed motion, he stepped toward me. Our faces were only inches apart, allowing his soft breath to mix with mine. He cupped my cheeks, pushed me against the wall, and claimed my mouth. I stiffened in response, even though I had dreamt of this moment. I guess I was a little shocked that I’d read his very subtle signs. He wanted me. My heart pounded against my chest, and I let myself relax against his warmth. I parted my lips letting him in, urging him on. My mind spun with a desire I never knew I had. His tongue tangled with mine, delicately exploring my mouth. I matched him movement for movement, drinking in an intoxicating mixture of sweat, mint and clean crisp aftershave. He clutched the nape of my neck and brought me closer, deepening the kiss into a hungry need. I moaned quietly in spite of myself. He groaned in response and pressed harder against me. Never in my life had I ever been kissed like this. Kissed with this much passion. It was amazing. My hands entwined in his hair, coaxing him on. My legs weakened as he ran his strong hands along the curves of my body. My skin was more sensitive than I ever remembered. The thick protective shell I’d built over so many years to protect myself from a moment like this started to crumble into a million pieces.

“Fuck.” He pulled away.

Oh god, please don’t stop.
I gripped my stomach and squeezed, hoping to relieve the deep ache in my core.

He yanked his cell from his back pocket. “Shit, I have to take this.” He stepped back further. He was as breathless as I was.

I stood in silence and listened to the one-sided conversation unfold. My lips trembled.

“What ... of course I know ... I would never fucking forget. I can’t come today ... I don’t give a shit if she needs me...” He pressed end on the call and looked at me. The tension in his eyes alone was palpable. “I have to go.” He turned and left the room.

Tears pricked the back of my eyes.

“T
his green and yellow bullshit sucks,” Sierra snapped.

“I told you that three months ago. It’s your own fault. You’re the one who didn’t want to find out the sex at your ultrasound. Remember, all that meaning of life nonsense, and there-are-no-true-surprises ridiculousness?”

“Fine, you’re right! I’m calling my OB for another ultrasound stat. What a waste of time!”

We just spent two hours trying to register her. I should have been annoyed, but I couldn’t care less. My head wasn’t in it. I was hungry, and my legs ached from my fourteen-mile run this morning.

“Whatever you want,” was all I could muster. My head was so not into this.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been quiet all morning. Spill it.”

“Nothing, I’m starving and it’s insanely hot.” She wasn’t buying it. “Don’t look at me like that, you’re annoying. Let’s just go.”

“Fine, my place. Dodd’s out pretending to be domesticated. You can help me decide which wall the crib should go on in the nursery.” She hailed a cab. “Then you can start talking.”

We both slid across the seat. I rolled down my window. “Walnut and Rittenhouse Square, please.”

The five-minute drive was quiet as I tried to tease apart what was going on in my head. How could I explain the shit-show of emotions wreaking havoc on my life to Sierra if I couldn’t get a handle on it myself? A sleepless night and a two-hour run made it worse.

“You’re acting weird.”

“Am not.”

“Oh, okay. When’s the last time you sat in a cab with me and stared out the window? You’re usually talking my ear off about some sort of nonsense.”

“I told you. I’m just hungry. And could it be any freaking hotter out?” I leaned my head against the back of the seat and closed my eyes.

“Right. So your freakish behavior has nothing to do with Dr. Sushi Seduction?” She was
so
not letting it go.

“You’re approaching really annoying.”

The cab slowed in front of Sierra’s brownstone, and she paid the driver. I didn’t even attempt to open my purse. I was not in the mood to watch her throw a hissy fit about money. I slid across the seat and hopped out behind her.

A blast of welcomed air conditioning hit me in the face when we walked through the door.

“I’ll get us some snacks. Go sit before you pass out on the floor. My annoying self might leave you there.”

I kicked off my shoes and plopped down on the cozy oversized couch, curling up into a ball. Sierra’s heels on the hardwood floor got closer. My eyes were closed, but she was definitely hovering.

“He kissed me,” I blurted.

“What! When! Lil, open your eyes.” She handed me a glass of lemon water and jumped up on the couch, heels and all.

“There’s nothing else to say, it happened and now it’s over.”

“Bullshit.”

“He walked away. Acted like it was all some misunderstanding, like he didn’t mean it.”

“What do you mean, he walked away?”

“Exactly that,” I clipped. “He had this really tough surgery yesterday. The patient almost died. It was a total mess. He was a mess. He was angry and yelling, covered in blood. The next thing I know, he’s half naked, and he’s kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before. It was intense. And amazing. Our connection, our chemistry, it was insane. He must have felt it, I
know
he felt it.” Tears threatened to fall. I kept my emotions trapped in a bottle and wasn’t sure why this man was having this effect on me. “And then his phone rang and something changed. He went right back to being a total ass. Then he left. He
just
left.”

“That’s it? He hasn’t tried to call you or text you?”

“Nope. Nothing. I told you, didn’t mean anything.”

Silence
.
I mentioned Sierra NEVER did silent. At least she knew why I hadn’t slept and clocked a crazy number of hours. Maybe she would stop being so annoying.

“I
don’t
do this. I don’t get all bent out of shape over someone I met three days ago. It’s insane. It’s taken three effing years to feel something, and I pick
this
man. His intensity is no joke. He’s Dr. Compassionate one minute and psycho surgeon the next.
This
is who turns me on.
Really
? I’m screwed up. Can I push pause?”

It was the first time I’d spoken those words out loud, but I sure as hell thought them way too many times to count. I sat up and wiped my burning eyes. I refused to shed another tear.

“Push pause?” Sierra questioned.

“Exactly, I need to check out for a few days or maybe a year.”

“Lil, you’ve been checked out for the past three years, you need to freaking check
in
. You’re not gonna remember the pauses, and you’re definitely not going to remember a good night’s sleep. But at least there’s a reason you feel like you need a pause and a reason you were awake. Bad or good, who gives a shit? That’s the stuff you don’t forget. I have no idea what’s up with Dr. Bloodbath. He might be a total dick and not worth another second of your time, but I’m just glad you’re feeling
something
again.” Sierra took a sip of her water and gave me a small smile. “You’ll figure it out, Asspuck, just like you do everything else. You’re the strongest person I know. I love ya.” She hugged me. “Goddamn, it must be this baby, I’m a hormonal fucking sap, huh?” At least she said it, not me. Sierra
rarely
did mushy. “Let’s go out this Friday. Drinking and stupid talk always makes us feel better. And since I’m living life dry at the moment, you drink and I’ll be stupid. Sound good?”

Sounded perfect. And she had a point, I had literally walked around for three years blocking out any and all penetrable emotions. Maybe I was feeling
something
, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to acknowledge it.

“Can I call in sick all week?” I scrunched my nose up and squinted.

“Yeah, right. Like you would
ever
. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. I don’t think you should give up on him yet. He kissed you, didn’t he? You felt something, right? I’d bet my ass he felt something too, so give it some time. Worst case scenario, he’s a big dick and you suffer through three more weeks on his service.” She shrugged. “Best case scenario, he
has
a big dick and you spend the next three weeks letting it pry your vagina back open.” She grinned.

That sounded more like my Sierra.

“Sounds worth the risk to me” she finished with.

C
hase and I exchanged very few words over the course of the next week. None, to be exact. There were two awake cases, and he didn’t request me to sit in for either. In fact, I overheard him tell Guy, “Keep her away from my OR, I don’t need a repeat of last Friday,” implying the bloodbath debacle was somehow my fault. Only I knew what he was really referring to, and I got the message loud and clear. On rounds he was short and curt and avoided eye contact with me. There wasn’t even a glimmer of the man I had dinner with or the man who sweetly tucked my drunken ass to bed. Just Dr. Intensity. I was angry. So pissed with myself that I let my guard down so easily after so many years of building my ironclad barrier. Screw him for disarming me too damn easily.

“Are you going out tonight, doll?” Guy put his hand in the elevator door to keep it from closing. I got it. When they weren’t living up to their stigma,
surgeons and stairs,
they hopped on the elevator. I tried to stifle my laugh.

“Yeah, girls’ night at Rosa’s, what about you? You should meet up with us. You didn’t forget about your promise, did you?” I bumped his shoulder. He owed me a drink.

“Of course I didn’t forget. Colton and I have a drug rep dinner tonight about some new instruments he wants to try out in the OR, or some shit like that. But I’ll totally try to get out and catch up with you ladies.”

“Sounds like a fun boys’ night out,” I said, my voice laced with obvious sarcasm.

The elevator slowed and opened on the second floor. Chase stepped in. Shit. So much for the stigma. His eyes locked on mine for the first time since we kissed last Friday. He looked pissed. My stomach did a flip and I broke first, redirecting my focus to the cracked floor tile.

Guy nodded and acknowledged him. “Hey Chase.”

Chase did not turn and face forward, following proper elevator etiquette. No, he backed himself into the side wall, arms folded across his taut chest. The sleeves of his crisp blue dress shirt were rolled high enough to show the coursing veins bulging under his tan forearms. I didn’t look up because I knew his eyes were still on me. The tension was thick and palpable, yet Guy was oblivious. I wished
I
had taken the stairs.

“So I’ll definitely try and crash your girls’ night. How late do you think you’ll be there?”

“There’s a bunch of us going, so probably pretty late, especially once the margaritas start flowing.” I peeled my gaze off the floor and up to Guy and those damn dimples.

“Not missing this. I’ll be there, wait for me.” Guy patted Chase’s arm to get his attention, “How long’s this dinner tonight?”

“Obviously not long enough.”

Silence. It was the world’s
longest
elevator ride,
EVER
. Who knew going one floor could be your worst nightmare?

As much as I tried to forget all things Chase, I couldn’t help but wonder what had him so angry. The few times I’d seen him this week, his demeanor was the same—detached and cold. Angry. The only thing familiar about him was his intensity. I hadn’t seen a flicker of Dr. Compassionate either, and I began to question if I had imagined it. Was I so distracted by my attraction for him that I saw what I wanted to see?

I
walked into Rosa’s and headed straight for our usual table. I didn’t even stop at home to change. No time after
that
elevator ride. I said hello to a couple of the girls and poured myself a giant margarita. I slipped comfortably into the high back stool and pulled out my cell phone to text Sierra. One missed text. She was probably running late.

We need to talk. -CC

My stomach churned and I cursed myself for adding my number to the call schedule after the whole pager debacle. Was he really texting me right now?

I’m back at work Monday.

If u need something-call the on-call case mngr.

Now he wanted to talk? What was wrong with the fifty plus hours we just spent in the same building? Not convenient enough? Bullshit.

Know u felt it. -CC

Seriously? Of course
I
felt it. Was this his way of saying
he
didn’t?
I
also felt the sting of his cold shoulder all week. Irritation, compounded with arousal from thinking about our kiss, accelerated my heart rate. My eyes scanned over the last text like a scene stuck on repeat.
Know u felt it.
Five simple words and I was completely undone. The last thing I needed was an awkward “sorry if my steamy-as-fuck kiss gave you the wrong impression” conversation. Thanks, but no thanks. Why did he have to be so damn intense and hot as hell?

Nothing to talk about.

Have you been drinking? -CC

Obviously. Must be drunk. Why else would any sane female deny a request from this man? Looks like I also underestimated his arrogance.

Last time I checked

I met the legal age.

Pete will take you home.

Go with him. - CC

Thanks but no thanks.

He thought I needed a car service to get home. He thought I was pining over him, getting drunk. I’d had enough. I might not be able to turn off my body’s magnetic attraction for this man, but there was no way I was entertaining one more second of his pompous presumption. I powered off my phone and slammed it into my bag, just as Sierra walked up with a huge grin on her face.

“What’s wrong with you? You look like a cat just pissed on your Manolo Blahniks.”
More like a lion…

“Hi to you too, Asspuck. What’s with the Kool-Aid smile?” In fact, her smile was over the top infectious, and I couldn’t help but smile right back.

“It’s a girl!”

“Oh Sierra, congratulations! I’m so happy for you.” I sprang from my chair and threw my arms around my best friend’s neck. “Yeah pink, Sier, this is soooo exciting!” Happy news put my stupid Chase bullshit on the back burner.

“Dodd was a little pissed I wanted to find out, but hell, now that I know I’m not regretting my decision for one second.” She gave her little bump a rub.

“Oh, good! Because this aunt is going to spoil her princess to pieces.” I raised my margarita in the air. Sierra followed suit and picked up the seltzer-filled wine glass I had waiting for her.

“To girls!” With matching perma-grins, we both took a sip.

“So it’s pretty obvious I interrupted pissed-off Lili. What’s going on? Insurance company deny your request for one of your gorked patients to get therapeutic mani-pedis at rehab?”

“There’s something seriously wrong with you.”

“I’m just kidding, you know I think it’s awesome what you do and how you fight for your patients.”

“Let’s not talk about me. I want to talk about your shower. My baby girl Pinterest page is overflowing ... I’ve been pinning since the day you peed on the stick.”

“Pinterest-freak, what if it was a boy?”

“It’s not my fault you’re Internet-challenged. Don’t worry. I have a boy one too ... we’ll save it for next time. Here, let me show you the app on my phone.” I grinned and reached for my phone. My irritation resurfaced when I remembered why I buried it at the bottom of my bag.

“What, where’s your phone?” She reacted to my not-so-subtle eye roll.

“Rotting in the bottom of my bag.” I fumbled around, eventually locating it and hoping not to find any more texts when I powered it up.

“What’s going on?”

“He texted me.” I shook my head and hesitated, uncrossing then crossing my legs. Just talking about him had me squirming in my seat. Damn my body.

“And ... what did he say?”

“Oh, he thinks we need to talk. Make sure I didn’t get the wrong idea, even though he had all week, but avoided me like the plague instead.” Sierra’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, and let’s not forget the best part. He was worried I might be getting plastered and offered to make sure I got home safely.”

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