“If you need anything, hit the button.”
“I need to get the fuck out of here,” I reply irritably. “Can you help me with that?”
“Only if I have discharge papers.”
“Can we forge some?”
“Maybe we can just pass you off as Dev and sneak you out.”
Now, this chick is talking.
“Sounds like a plan. What do we need?” I perk up.
Kayla crosses her arms haughtily. “Me, nothing. You, a medical degree and two working legs.”
“Ugh.” I bang my head on the pillow. Fucking cock tease.
“Face it, moto. You’re stuck with me for a while.”
I swipe my eyes up to hers. I like this girl. She’s got spunk.
“I guess there could be worse people to be stuck with. At least you’re easy on the eyes.”
“I do what I can, where I can.” She breathes out sardonically.
“I have a few things you can do,” I blatantly insinuate.
She straightens her stance. “I think I’ve done plenty already, don’t you?” She gets testy, most definitely insinuating she saved my sorry ass.
“I’m an indulgent kind of guy. Enough is never enough.”
“I believe it.” Kayla glances around the room. It looks like a florist threw up in here. Big bright flower arrangements pour over every flat surface. A few from my managers and sponsors, but a majority are from adoring fans. Female fans.
What can I say; I’m a popular guy, on and off the track. I’ve been blessed with exceptional hand-eye coordination, and I’m intelligent enough to use it in a multitude of ways.
This guy is an egotistical gearhead with motor oil for brains. As if I would do anything besides take his vitals. I’m not saying I need it, but at the very least, some gratitude for saving his stinkin’ life would be, if nothing more, polite.
In the twenty-four plus hours I’ve known him, I’m positive if he wasn’t chained to that hospital bed, he’d be walking around like a fucking peacock. Ear-piercing mating call and all.
The audacity of some people. World fame can really bring out the best, I see. I inwardly scowl. As much as I’d like to tell Reese Dane where he can stick that cocky attitude, I’ll maintain my professional façade. If for no other reason than to avoid a blemish on my record, or worse, being fired altogether.
“I’ll leave you alone with your suggestive thoughts.” I update the whiteboard just as Dr. Lipschitz enters the room. Perfect. He’s just as big an asshole as his patient is; they should hit it off beautifully.
Before I can escape, Dr. Lipschitz motions for me to stay.
Fuck. I know why; he’s going to examine Reese’s thigh wound and make sure everything is copacetic.
Too bad he can’t sew his mouth shut while he’s at it.
The doctor and I flank Reese’s bed as he pulls his gown up to look at the stitches. As much as I would love to look anyplace else other than Reese Dane’s inner thigh, I find myself grossly intrigued with his muscular physique and complex tattoo.
“Miss Kincade, would you mind doing more than just ogling the patient?” Dr. Lipschitz sneers.
“I’m sorry, Doctor, is there something specific you would like me to do?? My mind-reading abilities are off today.”
Reese smirks as Dr. Lipschitz glares at me. He’s the last doctor in this hospital whose bad side you want to be on, but Reese already has my irritability meter redlining.
“I would like you to do your job and assist me, instead of acting like a lecherous adolescent,” he snaps, and I almost lose it. But before I can snap back, Reese interjects.
“You better check yourself, doc. That’s no way to talk to a female.” His eyes are sinisterly dark. We both look at him. Me, shocked; Dr. Lipschitz, pissed off.
“Mr. Dane, I would advise you to butt out of things that are beyond your comprehension. I work here on a daily basis, you don’t. Incompetence runs amuck.” Dr. Lipschitz achieves insulting Reese and me in one statement.
“Let me advise you, Dr . . .” Reese glances at his lab coat, “Dipshit. If you ever come into this room again and disrespect me or my nurse like you just did, I’m going to give you a hands-on lesson in bedside manner.” Reese actually tries to get out of bed and grab Dr. Lipschitz.
“Mr. Dane.” I attempt to push him down, but he’s built like a brick shit house, and my effort does next to nothing to stop him.
“Now, get the fuck out of here before I have your patronizing ass fired!” Reese snarls viciously. Dr. Lipschitz stumbles back, legitimately spooked.
I stand between the patient and doctor, both riled up for their own reasons. I feel Reese’s rapid heartbeat under my fingertips.
“Please calm down,” I whisper, earnestly. “It won’t be good for anyone if this escalates.”
Surprisingly, the rabid pit bull my patient just became backs down.
“Listen to the doltish nurse.” Dr. Dipshit pulls at the lapel of his lab coat, irked.
We both regard him puzzled.
“It means brainless,” he huffs. “Buy a dictionary.” With that, he turns and vacates the room.
I sag. “I save your life, and you try to get me fired?”
“Get you fired? That guy is a douchebag. You should say thank you for defending you.”
“I don’t need you to defend me. I ignore him. We all do. He’s an asshole. But he’s excellent at what he does, and if you haven’t noticed, we aren’t in the middle of a metropolis. Good doctors are hard to come by.”
“So you just let him belittle you?” Reese argues, disgusted.
“It seems people in a position of power get that right.” I pin him with an accusing look.
“I never belittled you,” he objects, insulted.
“No, you’re just an ungrateful asshole. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go intercept a grievance. If you need anything, buzz.”
I storm out of the room.
Fuck.
I barely make it to my manager’s office before Dev grabs hold of me.
“What’s the problem, speed racer?” He detects my unrest.
“Your brother is the problem,” I fume.
“Reese? How much trouble can he be? He’s strapped to a bed.”
“How much? An entire confrontation with Dr. Lipschitz just erupted in his room.”
“About what?” His grip on my upper arm gets tighter.
“David was being his usual self.” It’s pretty much all I have to say, and Dev understands.
“And Reese didn’t like it?” he questions.
“Nope. Not one bit. I think if he could stand up, Dr. Lipschitz would need a doctor.”
“Probably an entire surgical team.” He sighs, dragging me a little closer. My pulse starts to rise. We’re too close, standing too intimately in a work environment, but I can’t bring myself to pull away. “Okay, I’ll talk him. Both of them. We’ll smooth it over.”
“It needs to happen fast. I don’t want a letter of reprimand in my file,” I emphasize the urgency.
“No one wants that. I’ll take care of it. Promise.” His voice is a seductive solace.
I exhale heavily. “Thank you.”
Dev smiles, an adorable dimple popping out in his cheek. “Welcome.” He swipes a loose strand of hair away from my face. “Are you busy this weekend?”
The conversation just took a drastic turn.
“Maybe. Why?”
“Because I thought we could hang out. Get some dinner, go for a ride?”
I step back. “Dev, I don’t think . . .”
“C’mon, Kayla, when are you going to give me a chance? You don’t want to get on the bike? Fine. I have a car.”
I look up at him conflicted. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea. We’re coworkers.”
“So what?”
“So, it’s against policy to fraternize.”
“Are you serious? Half the staff is either married or fooling around,” he argues.
“Yes, and you would know that considering you’ve done the most fooling around,” I stress vehemently.
“Is that what you’re afraid of? Being temporary?”
“I’m not afraid of being temporary. I’m afraid of being a flash of lightning. You don’t even seem capable of temporary.”
Dev crowds me. “I guess you’ll never know what I’m capable of if you don’t give me a chance.” His tone is as suggestive as his brother’s. His eyes burning with preeminence as they bore into mine.
I peer back at him, but I feel my resolve wavering. What would it be like to have him look at me like that behind closed doors? My pulse races from just the secret question alone.
“Can we please just deal with one sticky situation before we take on another one?”
Dev’s expression perks up. “Are you telling me you’re not opposed to getting sticky?”
“I’m telling you I’m opposed to getting fired and being someone’s cheap date.” I sidestep, answering honestly, because no, quite frankly, I’m not afraid to get sticky.
“Noted. We’ll continue this conversation later.” He pulls out his phone and reads a message. “I’m needed.” He winks and then walks off.
I fall against the wall, sapped. Did I just agree to get sticky with Devlin Dane?
I whistle down the hallway, devising the perfect plan to lure Kayla onto my bike and then into my bed. With most women, it’s easy—-I just blow and their panties go poof. Not with Kayla, though. She’s the north wind to my autumn breeze. It’s what drew me to her automatically. Her tenacity. It’s easy to adopt a kitten; it’s a whole other thing to tame a wild cat. And I have no doubt that in the bedroom Kayla is as wild as they come.