Just a Little Flirt

by Renita Pizzitola

  My gaze jerked to where he’d been sitting, and I found him making his way past the kids. A T-shirt fit snug across his chest, hugged his biceps then dropped to brush along the top of his jeans. He ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it a bit, as one side of his mouth twitched into a grin. He glanced down then back at me.

  Oh God. He was coming our way.

  Cade rotated one of the tiny chairs then lowered himself. He straddled it and rested his arm across the back. “Didn’t expect to see you here. But I’m glad I did. I couldn’t stop thinking about you yesterday.”

  He thought about me yesterday? As in, all day?

  Lindsey’s eyes widened as she peeked at me through her hair shield.

  “You came back. Guess I didn’t totally wreck your day.” He smiled. As if that face could ruin anything. “You didn’t look like you wanted to kill me or anything when you walked in, so I’m hoping we’re all good?”

  Okay, so technically he was thinking about how he possibly screwed up my life, not so much me, but, whatever, I’d take it.

  “It’s all good. I was on time and considering the dress code here is apparently anything five times your normal size”—I gestured to my scrubs—“no one seemed to notice or care I had on your shirt.”

  Lindsey sucked in a tiny breath, clearly confused and maybe even intrigued by this discussion.

  He chuckled. “Great. Let’s start over then. I’m Cade.” He extended his hand, which swallowed mine as they clasped in a handshake. “And you are?” He tilted his head slightly, his eyes practically twinkling like everything about him sparkled to perfection.

  I’d never considered a guy out of my league—let’s face it, ultimately I always had what they wanted—but this one did all sorts of things to my confidence. Maybe it was this friend approach. I mean, was it even possible to just be friends with a guy who I was currently picturing naked?

  “Fallon.” I pulled my hand free and leaned back. Distance was good.

  “Fallon,” he repeated, his tongue caressing the second syllable.

  And wow. I’d never loved my name until his mouth molded it to perfection.

  He glanced at the girl hiding behind her hair next to me. “And you are?” He extended his hand.

  She brushed her hair back and said, “Lindsey.”

  I stared at his lips, waiting to see if her name also matched his mouth, though hoping it wouldn’t.

  “Well, nice to meet you both.” He glanced at me again. “I need to get back to Scout, but I’ll see you around.”

  He stood and tucked the chair back under the table. With one last glance over his shoulder he said, “Take good care of that shirt. It’s my favorite.” He grinned.

  I smirked. “You had fair warning. I told you you’d never see it again. It’s pretty much mine now.”

  He turned around and took a few steps backward. “That’s why it’s my favorite.”

  What did that mean? And why the hell was I even trying to read into everything this guy said? Dammit.

  “After all, it saved the day,” he said.

  I forced a smile as if I wasn’t totally bummed that my ownership of the shirt wasn’t why he’d favored it. “It did, which is why I can’t part with it.”

  “It’s yours.” He turned and walked back to the kids. Scout greeted him with an enthusiastic tail wag.

  “What was that about?” Lindsey asked, resurfacing from under her hair shield.

  Lowering my voice, I gave her a modified version of the story.

  Her eyes drifted back to Cade. “That’s so sweet.” Which seemed to be the consensus. A guy giving you his shirt was some kind of huge act of chivalry or something.

  “He felt pretty guilty, I guess.”

  The Child Life specialist stood and announced Scout’s departure. Disappointment wafted over the crowd, and some kids returned to their parents, who sat on the sidelines, while others wandered toward the playroom looking for a new activity to occupy their time. One little boy clung to Scout.

  Cade squatted down to the boy’s level and spoke with him. The little boy squeezed Scout tighter and shook his head. Cade smiled and said something else; the boy looked at Cade then reluctantly slipped his arms off the dog’s neck. Cade ruffled the kid’s hair and whatever he said eventually earned him a smile. He called to Scout and made his way back toward where we sat, accompanied by Michelle.

  His gaze shifted to me and I looked away, focusing on some kids nearby. Michelle and Cade stopped to discuss something and Scout settled on his haunches to wait patiently.

  Lindsey reached out and Scout sniffed her hand then leaned his head into her palm. She ran her fingers over his ears and he licked her in response. He then turned his dark brown eyes on me and I caved. I reached out to pat his head. When I pulled my hand back, he nudged my wrist with his wet nose. Damn dog. I scratched his ear and got my complimentary dog lick. Good thing he was cute. I fought back my grin as he prodded me for more petting. After being surrounded by kids, it’d seem more likely he’d want a little solitude, but this dog really enjoyed affection.

  I glanced over at Cade who listened to Michelle, but his gaze had drifted back to me.

  Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be petting his dog? I didn’t have any experience with therapy animals. Was there a protocol?

  I settled back in my chair and Scout stared at me, but I averted my gaze. He shifted and rested his chin on my thigh. His big eyes peered up at me. What the hell? It was like a weird doggy guilt trip. Guilt was one of the many emotions I didn’t do, but my hand seemed to move on its own, and there I was running my palm over his soft, furry head.

  “C’mon, Scout, leave the ladies alone.” Cade smiled down at the dog, who responded instantly. He wagged his tail and stood alongside Cade, waiting for direction. “He’s always on duty,” Cade joked.

  If therapy dogs were used to being handled a lot, maybe they craved human touch.

  “The kids really seem to love him,” I said.

  “Yeah, he loves them too.” Cade snapped a leash onto a loop at the top of the red vest-like harness Scout wore. “Well, time to get this guy home. We’ll see you tomorrow?” Cade raised an eyebrow.

  Was that a question? Or was it a casual goodbye? “Great. See you tomorrow.”

  He smiled. “C’mon, Scout.” He opened the door and Scout trotted out alongside him.

  “I think he likes you,” Lindsey whispered.

  “He’s trained to like people.”

  With a small laugh, she said, “I meant the guy.”

  “Oh, he doesn’t know me.” The answer just fell from my lips, but it was the truth. He had no idea who or what I really was. “I think he just feels guilty over our run-in. But it doesn’t really matter. I’m here to work. Dating would be frowned upon, I’m sure.”

  “He’s a volunteer, not a coworker.”

  Was she actually suggesting it was okay to date him? Whose interest would that be in? Mine or hers? I eyed her then dropped my gaze. “I’m not interested in him like that.”

  “Oh, yeah. I just meant, I didn’t think the same rules applied.” She tucked her head back down and scribbled in her notebook.

  We switched locations back to the playroom since most of the kids who’d remained had wandered in there. Settled into a new corner table, I focused on Michelle as she interacted with a child who was reluctant to leave her mom’s side. She seemed older than her size suggested. A rush of emotions surged through me.

  Forget Cade and dating, and all that ridiculous drama that came with guys, these kids were sick. My stomach dropped and I glanced around, trying to gauge the severity of the kids’ illnesses based on how they looked, but it was impossible. Siblings of inpatients played in this room too, but even when I specifically studied the kids wearing hospital bands, I realized they didn’t all look sick. Some appeared to be in great health, while others had circles under their eyes or pallid complexions. But any illness could take its toll. A simple stomach bug could make someone look worse for the wear
, so it was impossible to know what these little guys dealt with during their stay at the hospital.

  What if I wasn’t cut out for this? What if the emotional part was more than I could handle?

  A little girl bounded past, humming a familiar pop song. She smiled at me, reached for a book, her little white hospital band sliding up her thin arm, then skipped back to her mom. Clearly, she wasn’t letting her illness interfere with her happiness. But maybe it was because, despite her medical problems, she was foremost…a kid. These weren’t walking diagnoses. They were children and I couldn’t look at them as anything but that.

  After a while, Amy returned and talked with us a bit. She pointed out things to be aware of, and answered questions we had about the room and our roles as interns. When our two-hour shift was over, I left buzzing with excitement. The sense of rightness was strong, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up about where this internship would lead, regardless of how much I knew I’d love working there.

  Lindsey and I clocked out and walked down the hall together toward the elevator. We were just passing a wing of patient rooms when a guy in a white coat breezed past. He mumbled what sounded like orders to change the bedding in some room. I stared at him then glanced at Lindsey. She shrugged.

  A woman in blue scrubs, who stood outside a nearby room, looked up from her computer. “Don’t mind him. He’s one of the new residents. They throw on that white coat and suddenly think they can order everyone in scrubs around. If he’d paid attention, he’d have realized neither one of you are wearing the right color. We color-code for a reason,” she huffed and shook her head. “They aren’t all bad, but between you and me, a few of them are on a bit of a power trip.” She rolled her eyes.

  Just then a guy walked by in black scrubs.

  “Hey, Evan,” she said. “Can you check on the patient in room four-eleven? She might need new sheets.”

  He nodded and headed down the hall.

  “If it happens again, just let them know you’re interns.” She offered a quick smile then returned her attention to her computer.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled and we continued down the hall to the elevator.

  When the door slid open, we stepped inside.

  “I can’t imagine having some resident on a power trip ordering me around all day.” I pushed the button for the ground floor.

  “I know. He didn’t even take the time to actually acknowledge us.” Lindsey leaned against the back wall.

  “Hold the door.”

  I pushed the door-open button just as a hand slapped the rubber stoppers.

  A white coat flashed as a guy slipped inside, and I was pretty sure it was the same one who’d asked us to change the sheets. “Two, please.” He didn’t look up from his phone as he spoke and though he’d said please there was nothing remotely pleasant about his tone.

  I stabbed the two button and glared.

  He finally dropped his phone into his front pocket and stared at the doors. The elevator bounced upon its arrival at the second floor. He lurched out the moment they opened.

  “Thatcher, there you are,” a male voice greeted him. The doors glided shut, cutting off the rest of the conversation.

  “He even has an asshole name,” I grumbled.

  Lindsey just stared at me.

  Aw shit. What if that was, like, her dad’s name? I considered backtracking, but how? I seriously needed to learn to bite my tongue while at work. Talking like this was bound to get me in trouble or really offend someone.

  Then she laughed. “You’re absolutely right. His name is as pompous as he is.”

  Relieved, I smiled. “I mean, really, Thatcher? It’s like you’re just asking your kid to grow up to be a huge asshole, right?”

  The elevator landed on the ground floor and we stepped out.

  With a laugh, she nodded. “Where are you parked?”

  “This way.” I pointed to the North Wing.

  “Okay, well, I’m the opposite direction, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good. See you.”

  We parted ways and I reached for my phone to turn the ringer back on. My screen showed several missed messages. The first from a friend asking if I wanted to go out. Every ounce of me wanted to say yes, but I was scheduled earlier tomorrow and there was no way I could show up tired, or worse yet, hungover. The old Fallon would have said screw it and gone out anyway, but this was the new me.

  I reluctantly declined and scrolled through another missed message. This one from Brinley letting me know there was pizza for dinner. My stomach rumbled just thinking about food. Now that we were out of the dorms, I had to remember to actually plan ahead for meals, not exactly my strong suit. Thank God I had a responsible roommate. At one point in time that had actually seemed like a personality flaw, but the more time I spent with her, the more I appreciated her. And our mutual love of pizza.

  Chapter 4

  I swung open the front door and greeted Brinley’s best friend, Mason, along with the two large pizzas he balanced on his arm. “Yum, food.” I plucked the boxes out of his hand and carried them to the kitchen. “I’m starving.”

  “Where’s Brinley?” he asked.

  “In her room…with Ryder.” I glanced back.

  Brinley swore up and down she and Mason were finally on the same page relationship wise, but I saw the way he still watched her.

  Mason reached into the fridge for a soda; his gaze flicked down the hall.

  “Brinley,” I called out. “Pizza’s here.”

  He flipped open the box, pulled out a slice and tossed it onto the plate I’d handed him.

  Brinley and Ryder strolled down the hall. She tightened her ponytail and adjusted her shirt. His hair was completely mussed.

  Mason stared at them then abruptly looked away.

  “Thanks for bringing pizza.” Brinley smiled.

  Ryder pulled out some cash and handed it to Mason who brushed it off. Ryder looked to Brinley for direction. She shrugged, as if to say, you tried.

  It was this weird dance they did. Ryder and Mason trying to be friends, Brinley stuck right in the middle.

  “How’s the internship?” Mason asked.

  This was part of the dance. When things got awkward between the three of them, Mason turned his attention to me to serve as a distraction. But considering we barely got along, I wasn’t sure this ever helped relieve the awkwardness.

  “Awesome.” I took a bite of pizza and turned to Brinley. “I also discovered Mr. Fuck Me Shirt has a real name.”

  She paused with her hand on the fridge. “Wait, what? You saw him? Why was this not the first thing you told me?”

  I grinned. “You were a bit distracted when I got home.”

  Pink crept into her cheeks. “So what’s his name?”

  “Cade.” I sank into a chair at the table as she pulled out two sodas. “And get this. He’s a therapy dog handler.”

  “Wow. How hot is that?” She handed a soda to Ryder who didn’t seem fazed by Brinley talking about other guys. It probably had to do with the fact that he was like a walking sex god.

  I nodded. “Super hot. But, he also volunteers in the Child Life room.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” she asked. “You can get to know him.”

  “Sure I can get to know him, but that’s it. This internship is important. I’m being good.”

  Mason choked on his soda.

  With my arms crossed, I glared at him. “I can be good.”

  “I give it two weeks. Max.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “Well, it hadn’t been, but you know what, this could get interesting. Yeah. It’s a challenge.”

  Brinley shook her head. “Quit giving her a hard time.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I said. “I love a good challenge.” I locked eyes with Mason. “So two weeks, no guys from work.”

  “At work. Away from work. Your social life and work life must stay completely
separated.”

  “Easy. That’s hardly a challenge. Two weeks, a month, it doesn’t matter. I’m not mixing those two lives. Ever.”

  “Okay, then make it the full six weeks of the internship.”

  “Done.” I extended my hand.

  “Wait, what’s the wager?” he asked.

  “A night of drinks. Completely paid for by the loser.”

  He placed his hand in mine. “Done.”

  “Better save up.” I tilted my head and gave him a smug look. “I’ve been known to drink grown men under the table.”

  Mason flipped his dark blond hair back and grinned. “Not worried since you’ve also been known to take grown men on the table.”

  I smiled. “That I have.” Most girls would be insulted, but anyone who knew me, knew I took pride in my sexcapades. “Though, believe it or not,” I added, “at one point in time, Fallon was a very good girl.” I blinked innocently, then smirked. “I’ve got this.”

  “But what if this guy asks you out?” Brinley asked. “He’s a hot volunteer. You really want to pass that up?”

  “My answer would be no, wager or not.” Not that I’d admit it to anyone in this room, but Cade seemed like the kind of guy who would be completely turned off by the kind of girl I was anyway.

  “Oh.” Brinley looked disappointed.

  I shrugged in a halfhearted apology. “I’m not hooking up with anyone there. I really want to land this part-time position. I can’t have that shit interfering.”

  “But what if it’s not just a hookup? What about dating?” she asked.

  I set my plate in the sink. “No thanks.”

  “But…” Brinley glanced at Ryder. As much as she didn’t like it, he’d understand where I was coming from. Before Brinley he’d been all about one-nighters and avoiding commitment too.

  Ryder shifted from where he’d leaned against the counter. “It’s probably not a bad idea to keep her personal life and work life separate.”

  Neutral ground. How diplomatic.

  Brinley sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

  Ryder grabbed another piece of pizza from the box. “But if she met someone she really liked, this wager wouldn’t hold her back. When it came down to it, she’d choose him.”