The Two-Night One-Night Stand (8 page)

PROBLEM NUMBER ONE. The real Nick looks a lot like his sister.

And I’m struggling with it. Men aren’t supposed to be this pretty. The blond hair and blue eyes that make Jayne a knockout just make Nick look rather feminine to me. If I kissed this guy I would feel full-on lesbian, like I was kissing Jayne.

Problem number two. He’s a complete douche bag.

We’ve been sitting in this bar for over an hour. The glass of wine that I ordered myself while, once again, waiting entirely too long for him to show is empty, and he’s made no offer to refill it. And the way this guy rambles on and on about himself, I need another drink…
pronto
.

“So, hopefully soon my YouTube channel will pick up and I can get some advertising and quit my fucking job. Ya know what I’m saying? Work fucking sucks, right?”

“Actually, I love my job. I recently started a new position with LazerShark,” I say. He’s completely disinterested. I can tell by the look on his face, he’s just thinking ahead to the next nonsensical thing in his brain. How on earth did Jayne think I would be a good match for this dipshit?

“Do you have an account?” He disregards everything I just said. “Because you should follow me and subscribe to my channel. I think you would love the shit I post.” The waitress comes over to check on us. “I’ll take another beer,” Nick says to the waitress, dismissing her and returning to his conversation with me. “Do you know what a hashtag is?”

“Stop!” I yell out to the waitress walking away. “I’d like more wine as well.” I’d actually like the whole fucking bottle, so I can drink it all and then smash it over this dick’s head. She nods before heading over to the bar.

“A hashtag is like this—”

“I know what a hashtag is. I work on the social media team for a huge corporation.”

He perks up, giving me his full attention for the first time. “What corporation?”

“LazerShark. I just said it two minutes ago.”
You big fucking, self-obsessed prick
. I’m starting to wonder if Jayne really likes me. It seems highly unlikely, if this is who she thinks I’m meant to be with. I don’t care if it’s her brother, she has to know what a douche he is.

“Hey, then maybe you can hashtag me or include my links into some of your posts,” Nick says.
Is this guy for real? There’s not a chance in hell of that happening. Get me the hell out of here
.

The waitress returns with our drinks and small bowl of complimentary mixed nuts. “Should I start running a tab or do you want to pay now?”

“Now.” I reach for my wallet. I won’t even pretend there’s a chance this guy is paying for my glass of wine. I hand over more than enough to cover the bill for both of us. “No change,” I tell her. Anything to get me out of here quicker.

“Thanks. I’ll get ya next time.” Nick tosses a handful of the nuts into his mouth.

There will never be a next time. I smile at him and take a sip of my wine. “I have an early morning workout, so after this I’m gonna go home.” Time to chug this and bolt.

Nick coughs. “Already? Well, let me just give you my username and links.” He struggles to clear his throat. “So you can help get the word out for me.” He continues to cough, a dry hacking cough without bothering to cover his mouth. It’s rude and annoying, just like everything else on this date.

“Fine. Give me your info.” I dig in my purse for my phone. There is no way I’m ever going to associate my name or the good name of LazerShark with this tool, but if agreeing and taking his info gets me out of here any quicker, then I shall just pretend.

Nick reaches up, clutching both hands around his throat. He opens his mouth but no words come out. What the hell is he doing now? I watch in horror as his lips double in size right before my eyes.

“Are… are you okay?”

He struggles and finally manages to say, “My tongue… think… nuts.”

“The nuts? Are you allergic?” He nods frantically and I dial 911 from the cell in my shaky hand. “Oh my God! I’m calling 911 right now.”

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I’m with a guy and I think he’s having an allergic reaction to nuts. Please send an ambulance. We’re at Ryan’s Tavern, I’m not sure what number but it’s on Main Street. Please hurry!”

“Help is on the way.”

“Hurry.”

“Ma’am, please stay on the line. Is he breathing?”

“He’s talking, so yes, he is.”

“Do you know if he carries an EpiPen with him?”

“Um, I don’t know. Let me ask.” I keep the phone up to my ear. Nick’s attack has attracted an audience, and two men are helping him to lie down on the floor. “Nick, do you have an EpiPen with you?” He shakes his head. “No, he doesn’t,” I tell the operator. “Shit. What do we do? Is he gonna be okay?”

“Stay calm. The ambulance will be there soon.”

“Please hurry!” I shout into the phone again, as if that will actually work in getting help to arrive any faster.

“I’b gobba die,” Nick garbles out, drool running down the side of his mouth.

“Noooooo, you’re not.” I do my best to sound convincing through a plastic smile. Fucking-A. This guy cannot die on this date. It’s bad enough I have to tell Jayne I don’t like her brother, but to tell her he died? Nope, that can’t happen. “You’re gonna be just fine,” I say. And he better be.

“Nuss,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ nuss.”

“Nuts? Are you allergic to peanuts?” I ask. Why the hell would he eat those damn nuts if he was allergic?

“No.” He shakes his head. “No peenuss…I… haz… hazernuss.”

“What? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“I think he’s trying to say, ‘I have no penis, I have no nuts.’” One of the many onlookers, who is obviously drunk, volunteers.

“Seriously?” I toss a look of disgust over my shoulder.

“I think he’s saying hazelnuts,” the waitress offers. “It’s a roasted nut mix that we serve here and I think there are hazelnuts in the mix.”

Wonderful.

Nick starts moaning, I crouch down next to him on the ground. Red blotches appear all over his pale skin. I’m clueless as to what to do next. I wave my hand back and forth to fan him. What am I doing? He’s having an allergic reaction, not farting. I am the worst when it comes to a crisis. Blah, blah, I hope he’s okay and all, but I would do anything to get the hell out of here and away from this.

Even though it feels like an eternity, it only takes a few minutes for the sirens to be heard blaring from the street.

“Move out of the way people.” An EMT clears the way and she and another woman kneel down next to Nick. I turn my head away as a needle is jabbed into his thigh. “This may take a few minutes, but don’t worry, you’re going to be okay.”

Phew. Thank God. I exhale. My body relaxes.

“Let’s get him on the stretcher.”

“The stretcher?” I ask. My muscles tighten once again and I begin wringing my hands. “But… but, you said he’s okay.”

“He should be fine in no time, ma’am, but he still needs to be cleared by the doctor. We’re taking him to St. Peter’s Hospital. You can ride along with us.”

“Ride along?” My gulp is audible. “No, that’s okay, he doesn’t need me to come along.” Quick. I need to do something. I need to get out of here ASAP. I lean down and smile at Nick, whose normal color is already starting to return. “It was fun. I’ll call you,” I say slowly through an extremely forced smile.

He grabs my arm. “No… prease come.”

Shit, no, no, no.
This can’t be happening.
If this is a nightmare, I need to wake the fuck up. Now!

The two EMTs wait for my response, lifting the stretcher and locking it into place.

I respond with, “Oh, um… but, I… he… we… no, um.” So, basically, I manage to look like I’m both heartless and brain-dead at the same time.

“Prrrease, Horry,” Nicks begs in a weak, childlike voice through his fat swollen lips.

“Um, okay,” I finally say, the air slowly deflating from my lungs. Because what other fucking choice do I really have? None. This horrible date has taken an even more horrible turn and I am a horrible person for wishing I could just run away and not look back.

I curse my life as I reluctantly follow the rolling stretcher out to the waiting ambulance.

I hate Jayne. I hate fix ups. I hate motherfucking hazelnuts.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, trying to center myself and focus on something positive. It takes a lot to find something, but then I think, at least this night can’t get any worse.

“WE GOT A crier.” Dr. Porter laughs and hands over the chart for a Nicholas Dormer. “He’s been cleared but still needs someone to hold his hand and assure him that the hazelnut he ate is no longer a threat and not going to kill him.” I peer down at the patient info. Male, twenty-three, allergic reaction to nuts, RX for an epinephrine injection, follow up with allergist. “He’s in your hands now. Get him out of here, we need the bed.”

“Terrific,” I mutter under my breath, and brace myself for what’s behind the curtain. I pull it back and in the bed lies a grown man. The swelling from his attack has gone down everywhere except around his eyes, but I’m guessing that’s from the tears. “Hello, Mr. Dormer, my name is Matthew Daniels. I have your orders here, and it says that you are free to go. Dr. Porter just wants you to follow up with an allergist as soon as possible. Any questions?”

“You have got to be freaking kidding me.” A female voice causes me to turn my head.

Holy shit. It’s her.

“Should I be admitted? How can you be sure I’m okay? Don’t you think I should be watched for at least the next twenty-four hours?” I hear the questions coming from the patient but ignore them. My eyes stay locked on Holly. What is she doing here? God, she’s even prettier than I remembered. I’m not even sure how that’s possible. “Doctor? Hellooo? Are you listening to me?” The impatient patient forces me to redirect my attention back on to him.

“I’m not a doctor, I’m a physician assistant.”

“What?” he exclaims, springing up on the bed. “No. Hell no! Get the doctor back in here. I need a doctor.”

“The doctor cleared you. He says you are fine and you can go home.” How does Holly know this guy? Is this a relative? A friend? A date? The guy in front of me looks vaguely familiar. But how? His name is Nicholas… Nicholas?
Nick
. I swallow down the lump rising in my throat. This is the guy from the bar. The real date. She’s with the real date. Jesus Christ. The chart slips from my hand and I scramble to catch it before it lands on the floor.

“I really think I should be admitted. Is there another doctor here? I want a second opinion.”

“Nick, we’ve been here for almost six hours. The doctor says you’re fine. I really think it’s okay for you to go home now.” Holly rubs her temple, her eyes squeezing shut as she exhales an agitated sigh.

Hmmm
. What’s this I’m detecting?

The curtain opens and a petite blonde steps in. “Nick, are you okay?” she asks the man-child, who is now curled up in the fetal position.

“No, I almost died,” he says weakly.

“I’m Nick’s sister, Jayne,” she introduces herself, stretching out her hand to me. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s fine. The doctor cleared him and he is all set to go.”

“Okay, well, now that Jayne is
finally
here, I’m gonna take off.” Holly inches her way over, ready to run off.

“Thank you so much for staying,” Jayne says, taking a seat on the edge of Nick’s bed. “Sorry it took me so long to get here.”

“No, problem.” Holly’s got the privacy curtain balled up in her hand and one foot out the door. I’m not sure if it’s me, or Nick, or a combination of us both that has her desperate to flee.

“Wait.” Jayne stops her. “How are you getting home? Don’t you need a ride?”

“It’s all taken care of.” Holly taps the phone in her hand. I know this must mean she’s using her Uber app. “Jayne, talk soon. Nick, feel better,” she says, ignoring me completely, and before either of them can reply she makes a break for it, quickly vanishing through the curtain.

“Excuse me for a moment.” I step out as well. This is crazy. But I can’t let her go without talking to her. Taking off down the corridor, I catch up to her in the main lobby by the exit. “Holly, wait,” I call, and she stops, slowly turning to face me. I search for more words; none come.
Holly, wait
is all I really had.

“Matthew, I’m sorry but I really don’t think I can take much more of…
anything
tonight.” Her hands flail, slicing the air around her. She remembers my name. Score. “I just finished what can officially go in the record book as the worst date on earth.” Double score. “And making awkward small talk with my one-night stand in the lobby of the hospital just isn’t gonna happen.” Okay, no points for that one.

Her dark hair is scooped up in a ponytail and her head is dipped to the side, waiting for me to reply. It’s hard to concentrate with those gorgeous brown eyes blinking at me through long lashes.

I need to say something. Anything. But what? My brain and peen start duking it out. My brain wants to apologize. Peen wants to ask her out. My brains wants to ask for her number. Peen wants me to reach out, grab her, and squeeze her boobs.