commercial break, but standby for the post fight activities.”
CARLY
“What do you got for me?”
I’m coming on my shift at the hospital and I’m late as usual. I couldn’t find a sitter and left my son James with Brock, my boyfriend that we are currently living with. My stomach is creeping up toward my throat. At six a.m. it’s too early for me to freak out. Tabby — the nurse I’m relieving — looks down at my trembling hand.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just had to leave James with Brock and I’m a nervous wreck about it. I never do this.” I pause and collect myself. “Mom was supposed to watch him and she’s not picking up her phone. I knew better than to trust her. She promised me though. And James wanted Grandma to hang out with him. I was up all night looking at bills. Trying to figure everything out and I can barely hold my eyes open.”
I couldn’t call in to the hospital. They’re strict about their attendance policy and I just started working here a few months ago. I look around and let out a sigh as some techs push an elderly man down the hallway. The place is shiny and busy. Lights reflect off the tiled floors and everything is bright white. My heartbeat is pulsing into my temples.
“I’m sorry. I just worked a double. There’s no way they’ll let me cover for you. I feel horrible. I'd go check on James but I have to go to my parents' house for a bit this afternoon and they live way out in the country.” Tabby’s hand is on top of mine and her sweet nature gives me a slight bit of reprieve.
The worst sort of news stories keep replaying in my mind over and over. The horror stories I always hear about the boyfriend being left alone with a child and then bad things happen. These thoughts won’t leave my head. They just sit there and fester, until my brain churns out the worst case scenario on a loop.
“It’s fine.” I let out a huge sigh. “I'm sure they're fine. I'm just overreacting. I can do this. I just need to get busy. So what do you got?”
Her eyebrows waggle at me and I stare with my head cocked slightly to the side.
“Devyn O’Dare is in room 1008. You’ll be taking care of him.”
Weird. She says his name like I should know him. “Who?”
“C’mon, don’t play dumb.”
I feel like I should say something, but I have no clue what.
“The Ultra MMA fighter?” Tabby’s hands go to her hips and she keeps staring at me like I’m an alien.
“No clue. Sorry.”
“You really do live under a rock or something. He’s only the best fighter in the world.” She nudges me with her elbow. “He’s hot too.”
I reach in my pocket to text Brock to see if he knows who this guy is. “Oh no. No, no, this is a nightmare.”
“What is it?”
“I forgot my cell. This can’t be happening.”
“It’ll be fine. Just give them a call from the hospital phone after your rounds. The charts are all updated. You should be good to go. I’ve gotta run, but let me know if you need anything.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“No prob. I mean it.”
I stare at her petite frame as she walks away. Her hair is blonde and straightened to her shoulders and she can’t be taller than five-four. I’m not big by any means, and I feel like a giant around her.
Okay, you can do this. Just like she said. Finish up rounds and then call to check in. Everything will be fine.
I look over Mr. O’Dare’s chart before I walk into his room. Typical. Car accident, blood alcohol more than twice the legal limit, bumps and bruises but nothing serious. He was disoriented so we are holding him for observation. I inhale deeply and walk in the room.
Tabby wasn’t lying. He is definitely nice to look at, minus the bumps and bruises. His hair is dark and cut short, muscles bulging everywhere, and tattoos. My God, his tattoos are beautiful. His arms look like they’re constantly flexed, large biceps threatening to rip his hospital gown.
He’s staring straight at the wall like he’s trying to
CARLY
“What do you got for me?”
I’m coming on my shift at the hospital and I’m late as usual. I couldn’t find a sitter and left my son James with Brock, my boyfriend that we are currently living with. My stomach is creeping up toward my throat. At six a.m. it’s too early for me to freak out. Tabby — the nurse I’m relieving — looks down at my trembling hand.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just had to leave James with Brock and I’m a nervous wreck about it. I never do this.” I pause and collect myself. “Mom was supposed to watch him and she’s not picking up her phone. I knew better than to trust her. She promised me though. And James wanted Grandma to hang out with him. I was up all night looking at bills. Trying to figure everything out and I can barely hold my eyes open.”
I couldn’t call in to the hospital. They’re strict about their attendance policy and I just started working here a few months ago. I look around and let out a sigh as some techs push an elderly man down the hallway. The place is shiny and busy. Lights reflect off the tiled floors and everything is bright white. My heartbeat is pulsing into my temples.
“I’m sorry. I just worked a double. There’s no way they’ll let me cover for you. I feel horrible. I'd go check on James but I have to go to my parents' house for a bit this afternoon and they live way out in the country.” Tabby’s hand is on top of mine and her sweet nature gives me a slight bit of reprieve.
The worst sort of news stories keep replaying in my mind over and over. The horror stories I always hear about the boyfriend being left alone with a child and then bad things happen. These thoughts won’t leave my head. They just sit there and fester, until my brain churns out the worst case scenario on a loop.
“It’s fine.” I let out a huge sigh. “I'm sure they're fine. I'm just overreacting. I can do this. I just need to get busy. So what do you got?”
Her eyebrows waggle at me and I stare with my head cocked slightly to the side.
“Devyn O’Dare is in room 1008. You’ll be taking care of him.”
Weird. She says his name like I should know him. “Who?”
“C’mon, don’t play dumb.”
I feel like I should say something, but I have no clue what.
“The Ultra MMA fighter?” Tabby’s hands go to her hips and she keeps staring at me like I’m an alien.
“No clue. Sorry.”
“You really do live under a rock or something. He’s only the best fighter in the world.” She nudges me with her elbow. “He’s hot too.”
I reach in my pocket to text Brock to see if he knows who this guy is. “Oh no. No, no, this is a nightmare.”
“What is it?”
“I forgot my cell. This can’t be happening.”
“It’ll be fine. Just give them a call from the hospital phone after your rounds. The charts are all updated. You should be good to go. I’ve gotta run, but let me know if you need anything.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“No prob. I mean it.”
I stare at her petite frame as she walks away. Her hair is blonde and straightened to her shoulders and she can’t be taller than five-four. I’m not big by any means, and I feel like a giant around her.
Okay, you can do this. Just like she said. Finish up rounds and then call to check in. Everything will be fine.
I look over Mr. O’Dare’s chart before I walk into his room. Typical. Car accident, blood alcohol more than twice the legal limit, bumps and bruises but nothing serious. He was disoriented so we are holding him for observation. I inhale deeply and walk in the room.
Tabby wasn’t lying. He is definitely nice to look at, minus the bumps and bruises. His hair is dark and cut short, muscles bulging everywhere, and tattoos. My God, his tattoos are beautiful. His arms look like they’re constantly flexed, large biceps threatening to rip his hospital gown.
He’s staring straight at the wall like he’s trying to
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