get out of their way. God, they were a hazard.
Remy’s face heated. Except his time, he’d been the hazard. The rollerblader groaned. The sound of hurt. Remy’s medical training kicked in, and he scrambled to his knees and bent over the man.
“Hey. You okay?”
“My…ankle.” Lips pulled back in a grimace, revealing enough teeth to suggest agony. The man’s helmet angled over both eyes as he tugged at the buckle. “Stupid thing.”
“Here.” Remy got the chinstrap unfastened. “Does your neck hurt?”
“No.” The skater took a deep breath and rolled to his back. “Sheezus.”
Remy pushed the headgear up far enough to reveal the skater’s eyes, but they remained shut. The brain bucket gave good protection, but a concussion wasn’t out of the question. “Can you open your eyes?”
Golden lashes lifted to reveal eyes the blue of a first-place ribbon. The guy reached up and yanked the helmet off, and for a moment Remy couldn’t move. The injured man had blond curls, plastered down into hat hair. A straight nose and full lips. Gorgeous. Wow. Just…wow.
“Argh,” moaned Gorgeous.
Nice doctor you are, ogling the injured patient . Shoving the improper thoughts away, Remy got back to work with his assessment. “Anything else hurt?”
“Knee,” the man muttered, lids closing over the world’s most gorgeous eyes. “Frickin’ ankle inside the skate.”
Fracture? With the skates, Remy couldn’t see a thing. Removing them would help, but the boot would keep a fracture splinted until they could get X-rays. The guy could move all four extremities. Other than a scrape on the left shin, everything seemed to be in working order. Remy pushed on the man’s hipbones, checking for pelvic fracture.
The man grabbed Remy’s wrists. “You should buy me dinner first, don’t you think?”
Remy winced. Nice move, dummy. This isn’t the ER . The sun had apparently addled his wits. “Sorry. What’s your name?”
“Jamie.” He bent his knee and another grimace twisted his features. “Hurts.”
“I’m Remy Marshall.” He gripped Jamie’s long-fingered hand. “Well, Jamie, I think an ER visit is in your future.”
A woman crouched beside Remy. “Does he need an ambulance?”
“No ambulance.” Jamie’s tone was a mix of pain and irritation.
Remy glanced at the woman. “It could be a fracture. My car’s in the west lot. If we can get him there, I’ll take him.”
Jamie pushed him away. “I don’t know you.”
Remy sighed, pulled his hospital ID card out of his wallet, and held it over Jamie’s face, giving him a few seconds to check it out. “I’m a doctor.”
THIS COULDN’T BE happening.
It just didn’t get more humiliating than this. In the park, on a cloudless day, being carried to a stranger’s car—no, to Dr. Marshall’s car—by the doctor and a female Good Samaritan. And he still had on the damn rollerblades because the MD suspected a fracture. Jamie had to admit, the intense throbbing in his left ankle tended to make him agree. At least going by private car was cheaper than an ambulance. Another group of kids, all giving him unabashed stares. Jamie closed his eyes. Nightmare.
“Almost there, Jamie.” Dr. Marshall spoke next to Jamie’s ear. At least he was cute. Jamie opened his eyes.
Oh no. Cupid, thy name is cruelty . Wending toward them, body moving sinuously in time with the music on his MP3 player, was the object of Jamie’s worship from afar: Cute Rollerblade Guy, fiery ponytail gleaming in the sun.
Please don’t stop . Please don’t stop. Skate right on by—
Cutie halted next to Dr. Marshall. “Hey. Need some help?”
Jamie’s rescue team paused, and he tried to sit up straighter. Hanging between two people, parked on the seat formed by their forearms—dignity really wasn’t possible. He smiled through clenched teeth.
“We got it,” said the woman. Her tone dared the guy to challenge her capability to haul injured men through the park.
“Big
Remy’s face heated. Except his time, he’d been the hazard. The rollerblader groaned. The sound of hurt. Remy’s medical training kicked in, and he scrambled to his knees and bent over the man.
“Hey. You okay?”
“My…ankle.” Lips pulled back in a grimace, revealing enough teeth to suggest agony. The man’s helmet angled over both eyes as he tugged at the buckle. “Stupid thing.”
“Here.” Remy got the chinstrap unfastened. “Does your neck hurt?”
“No.” The skater took a deep breath and rolled to his back. “Sheezus.”
Remy pushed the headgear up far enough to reveal the skater’s eyes, but they remained shut. The brain bucket gave good protection, but a concussion wasn’t out of the question. “Can you open your eyes?”
Golden lashes lifted to reveal eyes the blue of a first-place ribbon. The guy reached up and yanked the helmet off, and for a moment Remy couldn’t move. The injured man had blond curls, plastered down into hat hair. A straight nose and full lips. Gorgeous. Wow. Just…wow.
“Argh,” moaned Gorgeous.
Nice doctor you are, ogling the injured patient . Shoving the improper thoughts away, Remy got back to work with his assessment. “Anything else hurt?”
“Knee,” the man muttered, lids closing over the world’s most gorgeous eyes. “Frickin’ ankle inside the skate.”
Fracture? With the skates, Remy couldn’t see a thing. Removing them would help, but the boot would keep a fracture splinted until they could get X-rays. The guy could move all four extremities. Other than a scrape on the left shin, everything seemed to be in working order. Remy pushed on the man’s hipbones, checking for pelvic fracture.
The man grabbed Remy’s wrists. “You should buy me dinner first, don’t you think?”
Remy winced. Nice move, dummy. This isn’t the ER . The sun had apparently addled his wits. “Sorry. What’s your name?”
“Jamie.” He bent his knee and another grimace twisted his features. “Hurts.”
“I’m Remy Marshall.” He gripped Jamie’s long-fingered hand. “Well, Jamie, I think an ER visit is in your future.”
A woman crouched beside Remy. “Does he need an ambulance?”
“No ambulance.” Jamie’s tone was a mix of pain and irritation.
Remy glanced at the woman. “It could be a fracture. My car’s in the west lot. If we can get him there, I’ll take him.”
Jamie pushed him away. “I don’t know you.”
Remy sighed, pulled his hospital ID card out of his wallet, and held it over Jamie’s face, giving him a few seconds to check it out. “I’m a doctor.”
THIS COULDN’T BE happening.
It just didn’t get more humiliating than this. In the park, on a cloudless day, being carried to a stranger’s car—no, to Dr. Marshall’s car—by the doctor and a female Good Samaritan. And he still had on the damn rollerblades because the MD suspected a fracture. Jamie had to admit, the intense throbbing in his left ankle tended to make him agree. At least going by private car was cheaper than an ambulance. Another group of kids, all giving him unabashed stares. Jamie closed his eyes. Nightmare.
“Almost there, Jamie.” Dr. Marshall spoke next to Jamie’s ear. At least he was cute. Jamie opened his eyes.
Oh no. Cupid, thy name is cruelty . Wending toward them, body moving sinuously in time with the music on his MP3 player, was the object of Jamie’s worship from afar: Cute Rollerblade Guy, fiery ponytail gleaming in the sun.
Please don’t stop . Please don’t stop. Skate right on by—
Cutie halted next to Dr. Marshall. “Hey. Need some help?”
Jamie’s rescue team paused, and he tried to sit up straighter. Hanging between two people, parked on the seat formed by their forearms—dignity really wasn’t possible. He smiled through clenched teeth.
“We got it,” said the woman. Her tone dared the guy to challenge her capability to haul injured men through the park.
“Big
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