Sweet Nothing (5 page)

Corner Hole bar was located almost exactly halfway between my building and St. Ann’s. Because of the location it was the bar of choice for hospital staff, making that horrible little dive perfect for fraternizing.

Being a weeknight, the place was practically empty, but a few familiar faces popped into view, one of which made me smile. Avery looked shocked when her gaze settled on mine, but she quickly worked her way through the crowd toward me.

“Thank God you’re here,” she said as my chest puffed out from the surprise greeting.

“It’s good to see you too.”

“I need you.” Her thin, long fingers circled around my wrist as she pulled me toward the bar. I zeroed in on the door to the backroom. It would be the perfect place for us to fool around.

“Whoa, Avery. I’m into you too, but I didn’t think you were that kind of girl,” I joked.

She didn’t find it funny, instead glancing back over her shoulder to glower at me. “No, pervert. There is this guy over here who won’t leave me alone. I figured you could help a girl out?” She cocked her eyebrow and waited for my response.

“Lead the way. I’ll teach the asshole a lesson.”

Avery pulled me toward the bar. Her friend was waving at her with a forced smile plastered on her face, and standing next to her was a very sloppy-drunk Quinn.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled, stopping in front of him. Two very pissed off women were waiting for me to do something.

“I believe you know Quinn, the asshole.” Avery swooped her hand out in his direction dramatically, fighting against a smirk.

Clearing my throat, I struggled to appear serious. “What’s going on, man?”

“Fucking twins,” he said too loudly as he pointed to the women. I stifled a laugh as I noted the distinct differences between Avery and her friend. Quinn had to be wasted to think they were in any way related. The friend had dark hair that hung just past her shoulders and huge tits. Her curves were a contrast to her sharp features, and to Avery’s blonde hair and athletic build.

I patted his shoulder. “I don’t think they’re twins, buddy.”

“No, no, no. Listen,” he slurred as he put his arm around the brunette’s shoulder and pointed his finger in her face. “This one is Bed. How great is
that
?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

She smacked him hard across the chest. “My name is
Deb
, you asshole.”

Quinn nearly fell over before rubbing his chest as if he’d been violently attacked.

“You think that’s bad? This is the nice one. That one—” he extended his arm toward Avery “—is into slavery.”

“Avery,” I corrected. “Her name is
Avery,
and we know her from work, remember?” I couldn’t contain my laugh at his serious expression.

“She doesn’t like me. Can you believe that?”

“I can.” I grabbed Quinn’s arm and looped it over my shoulders, pulling him from Deb’s side. “Come on, buddy. I think it’s time we go home.”

“But I want to hang out with the twins.”

“I think they’ve had about enough of you.” I winked at Avery, and she smiled, appreciative.

“But I owe you a beer,” Quinn whined.

“Yeah, you do. But I think we should go back to my place. You can sleep on the floor where Dax pissed this afternoon.” I helped Quinn through the front door of the bar and let him lean against the brick veneer exterior as he drank in the fresh air.

“It’s so hot out here.” He tugged at the collar of his blue polo shirt, stretching the fabric. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“You have it coming.” I turned around at the sound of the door creaking behind me.

“Make sure you keep him hydrated and maybe feed him a banana or something,” Avery said.

“Yeah, ahh … thanks for being so cool about him.” I shoved my hands deep into my jean pockets. “He’s not normally like this.” I glanced over my shoulder at Quinn, who was doubled over and dry heaving loudly, his shirt lying on the ground at his side.

“I sure hope not. His mother would be very disappointed.”

“He told you about his mother?”

“He all but bribed us with her homemade pie to sleep with him.” She covered her mouth as she struggled to contain her laugh. “It was an interesting strategy.”

“I’ll let him know you were impressed with his pickup lines tomorrow. Better yet, I’ll let his mom know.” I winked and she focused on the space between us.

Conversation stalled as I tried to think of something to say to her over the sound of Quinn emptying his stomach. I wanted to ask her out, desperate to stick around and spend more time with her, but there wasn’t a line in the world that would work in this situation.

“I should get him home.” Rubbing my hand over the back of my neck, I decided then that I was going to make tomorrow a living hell for Quinn.

“Thanks again.” Avery pulled open the bar door and slipped inside to join her friend.

“Come on.” I helped Quinn stand upright, tossing his shirt over my shoulder and guiding him down the darkened street to my apartment.

It was going to be a long night.

“So let me get this straight,” Deb said, standing by her locker in just a scrub top and striped, neon-colored socks. “He pulls you out of a burning car—”

“It wasn’t burning,” I deadpanned.

“—and calls his ambulance buddies to bring you to safety, probably cradling your head in his beautiful, buff arm while sniffing your granny panties.”

I shook my head, revolted. “At what point in this story did my panties come off?”

She stared at me with a blank expression. “This is Paramedic McPanties we’re talking about, right? He probably took them off to fashion a tourniquet like a sexy MacGyver.”

I exhaled. “McPanties is an awful, horrible nickname.”

“You laughed the first time I said it. Now you’re defensive. This is bad.” She dropped her shit-soaked sneaker into a plastic bag and tied the top, tossing it into her locker with a
thud
.

“You’re going to just throw that away, right?” I asked, rubbing the beginning of a headache from my left temple.

“Throw my shoes away?” she asked, appalled at my suggestion.

She spun around, stepping into the tiny bathroom across from the lockers, and scrubbed her hands until they looked raw. After ripping a paper towel from the dispenser, Deb turned off the faucet and then took a few towels to dry her hands before throwing away the wet paper. She reached back to tie her dark hair into a tiny ponytail at the nape of her neck. “You must have hit your head harder than I thought.”

I smiled, watching Deb step into a fresh pair of scrubs and then slide into her Crocs. “At least keep it in the bag until you know if your patient tests positive for—”

“Bleach kills everything,” she said. “Anyway, if I get C. diff, I might lose that last fifty pounds I’ve been trying to get off since the eighties.”

“You were born in the eighties.”

“My mother had gestational diabetes. I was husky.” She closed her locker, snapping the combination lock and twisting the dial.

“Better twist it again,” I said. “Don’t want anyone taking your shit shoe.”

“I don’t want those skinny bitches from radiology stealing my pudding.”

Andrea from X-ray glanced over her shoulder at us.

“That’s right,” Deb said with wide eyes. She pointed at her. “I see you staring at my chocolate vanilla Super Snack Pack.”

Andrea pushed through the door, suddenly in a hurry.

“Jesus, Deb. You’re going to get written up again.”

“My shit shoe could end up under your pillow tonight. I have a key to your apartment. Hey,” she said, pointing at my head. “You’ve been doing that a lot today. What’s up with that?”

I dropped my fingers from my temple. “Just getting a headache. It’s nothing. I’ll take something when I get home. C’mon, we’re clocked out. I already feel bad that you came in on your night off. Let’s get the hell out of here before a code comes in.”

She followed me out of the women’s locker room and into the hall. I waved to the night shift, pausing when Dr. Rosenberg gestured for me to wait.

“A … he’s going to ask you to marry him,” Deb whispered as he approached.

“Shut up,” I said through my teeth.

“B … he’s going to say that he likes your tits in that scrub top all romantic-like and shit.”

“I will punch you in the vagina,” I hissed just as the doctor came closer.

“On your way out, ladies?” Dr. Rosenberg asked.

“C …” Deb began.

“See?” Dr. Rosenberg repeated, blinking his fantastically long eyelashes. His eyebrows pulled in, forming twin lines between them.

“C. diff,” I blurted out. “She was wondering if that last patient has tested positive for C. diff.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t need the results to know it’s negative. It has that unique smell and—”

“Weird pillow talk,” Deb muttered.

“Pardon?” Dr. Rosenberg asked.

I said the first thing I could think of. “She said we’re going to walk. To her car. She’s giving me a ride home. Did you need something before we leave, Doctor?”

“Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a vehicle. I hope you have insurance.”

Deb opened her mouth again, but I elbowed her hard in the ribs.

She yelped and rubbed her side, frowning at me.

Dr. Rosenberg watched our exchange with curiosity, but he continued, “My commute took twice as long because of the construction on I-95 North. If you’re going that way, you might want to find an alternate route.”

Deb chuckled. “You live in Alapocas, right, Doc?”

He smiled warmly. “I do, Hamata.” He looked down, embarrassed. “I didn’t realize that was common knowledge.”

“Yeah … we’re RNs,” she said. “We drive up I-76 West to our shithole apartments, but the traffic is clear, so there’s that.”

“Well,” Dr. Rosenberg said, amused. “Enjoy your night, then. Good night, Avery.”

I nodded. “Good night, Doctor.” I turned on my heels, stiffening when Deb hooked her arm around mine. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you …” I chanted all the way down the hall.

“He is going to be thinking about you while bathing in his champagne-filled bathtub tonight, so you can’t be too mad at me,” she said, chuckling.

“No, he’s not. He’s going to be thinking husband things because he’s married, and you’re an asshole for plotting things like that.”

“I’m not plotting. I’m pulling the strings of your life like a puppeteer because it amuses me.”

“Your honesty is my favorite thing about you, but it also makes me want to squeeze your throat between my hands until your eyes bulge. Just a little. Not a lot.”

She tightened her grip on my arm. “Aw. I love our little talks.”

A blue blur rushed around the corner, nearly knocking me to the floor. Hot liquid instantly soaked my scrubs and splashed up my neck and down my arms. I held my hands out to my side, in shock.

“Oh, Christ,” Josh said, holding his nearly empty Styrofoam cup of coffee. “I’ll go find some cold water. Did it burn you?”

“Yes, the boiling-hot coffee is burning my flesh, Captain Obvious,” I said, feeling the dark liquid drip from my jaw.