by J. Saman
To being us.
Chapter 22
Kate
I wake up the next morning sans clothing, with an alcohol-muddled brain and a mouth that feels like I swallowed sand. This is what two martinis and two shots gets me.
Ugh.
Rolling over onto my side, my hand slides to the spot next to me where Ryan usually sleeps, only to find it empty. Slowly I sit up, testing the waters to see just how roughed up I am. My head feels heavy, but not awful, and my stomach seems intact. In fact, I’m needing to get my hands on something greasy, stat.
“Ryan?” I call out, pulling the sheets up to my chest.
No answer.
Crawling out of bed, I throw on a pair yoga pants and his t-shirt since it’s on the floor and I like wearing his clothes. I think he likes it too. Walking through the doors into the living room, I find him sitting at the dining table, typing a mile a minute on his laptop while his cell phone is wedged between his shoulder and ear.
“No Luke. I can’t do that,” he’s listening and I feel weird about standing here when he doesn’t know I can hear him. “Because I can’t,” his tone is firm, but not mean. “I’m not going to be in Seattle until the middle of next week, and after tomorrow I’m going to be in the middle of nowhere so I have no idea what cell service I’ll have.” I start to walk toward him, but he is too engrossed in what he’s doing to notice. “You can handle it, Luke. I’ve known you to be very capable when it comes to wielding a computer’s wiles.” His eyes flash up to me and he smiles appreciatively, taking in what I’m wearing. “I gotta run. My distraction just got out of bed and I’d like to put her back in it.”
I blush like a bastard, because I have no idea who this Luke is.
He laughs at something the guy says and then hangs up the phone.
“Morning, gorgeous.” He places his phone down, clicks another button or two on the keyboard and then closes his laptop. “I like you in my shirt, but those pants have to go.”
“But if they do then I’ll be naked underneath.” I hold my hand up to my open mouth, widening my eyes in mock horror.
“True,” he nods solemnly. “But I’m afraid I’m still going to need you to remove them.”
Maintaining eye contact with him, I shimmy out of the offending pants, letting them rest on the floor next to me as I step out of them. “Now what, Master?”
His eyes heat instantly.
He likes it when I call him that, which I find just the tiniest bit amusing.
“I think you should come here and sit on my lap, straddling me.” He scoots his chair back, patting his thighs like I’m a puppy who needs to heel. I do as I’m instructed like a good little girl, and his hands slide up my naked thighs until they reach my ass where he adjusts my position to how he wants me. “Perfect,” he breathes in my ear. “Now your shirt, love. I want to look at this beautiful body before I have my way with it.”
Damn. The dirty talk gets me every time.
I remove his shirt from my body, and then lean back in his arms so that my back is against the solid wood of the table. His eyes roam over me greedily, every freaking inch, and instead of feeling exposed or self-conscious, my blood heats like no other.
“What about you?” I ask, tilting my head. “You’re wearing all of your clothes.” He is. He’s wearing running shorts and a worn gray tee.
“We’ll get to me soon, but for now, I’d like to focus on you.”
He lifts me off his lap in an effortless motion and sets my bare bottom down on the edge of the cool table. Now I feel exposed, especially when he spreads my legs wide open before dipping his head in between them.
Holy mother of Moses.
My back arches as my hands fly down to his thick hair. He doesn’t stop until I’ve cried out his name a full two times. After we’re both completely sated, we shower and get ready to go out.
“Can we go eat now?” I moan, running a brush through my hair. “I’m so hungry, I’m wasting away over here.”
He chuckles at me. “Yes, I can see that clearly. If we don’t feed you soon, I’m afraid your health may suffer.”
“Don’t be a dick, Mr. Grant,” I smack his arm. “You gave me lots of alcohol last night. With that comes the need for lots of greasy food.”
“All right, all right. Let’s go feed the hungry beast.” He throws his arm around me as we walk out of our suite. “Do you want to eat in the hotel or go and find a place near the park?”
“Um,” I look up at him blinking. “So I checked and Off the Grid is open on the far side of the park today.”
“And what is Off the Grid?” he asks, scrunching his eyebrows.
“Food trucks,” my eyes widen with excitement and he laughs at me.
“You want to eat from a food tuck?”
“You bet your sweet sculpted ass I do,” I tease, pinching his butt and making him laugh.
“Whatever my girl wants, my girl gets,” he says in jest, kissing the top of my head.
But his words make my stomach flip and I can’t tell if it’s in a good way or a bad way. I like his words. I like him calling me his girl. But at the same time, I can’t stand it. Eric called me that when we were in high school, and now I’m feeling the sting of guilt.
Ryan knows where I stand.
I’m not ready.
I didn’t hold back at all last night when I told him that, but still.
I choose not to say anything to him about it. I don’t want to hurt him with the reminder, and at this point, it’s like beating a dead horse—I’ve always hated that idiom. His arm is slung over my shoulder and my fingers are laced through the hand draped against my chest as we take in the beautiful city around us.
I could live here. I like San Francisco. A lot. But I’m not going to say anything about that to Ryan either.
After we scarf down some amazing Korean barbeque a la food truck, we set off into the park. I’m dying to see the waterfalls and botanical gardens. Ryan is interested in the Japanese tea gardens. I think tea is a vile substance, but what the hell? The architecture will be killer.
“So you’re really up for camping in the freaking redwood forest for the next two nights?” he asks as we get closer to Strawberry Hill. Have I mentioned that I’m in love with this park?
“I know it sounds crazy, but how else will we be able to explore it?”
His head nuzzles into my hair. “I’m okay with it, sweetheart, but it’s going to be balls cold, especially at night, and there won’t be showers or probably even a lot of bathrooms.”
I laugh, nudging his ribs. “You afraid of me being smelly, or that I can’t handle roughing it?” I’m actually a little—or maybe a lot—nervous about this camping thing. I’ve never done it before, and I’m not known for being all that outdoorsy.
“Smelly I can handle, I may even like, but it’s not as if we can swim in the streams or anything.”
“All right. I get it. How about we do one night of camping, and another night in a hotel?”
“I just want you to be happy, love. I don’t know how happy you’ll be freezing your ass off with no shower or toilet paper.”
“Point taken. What if we got a sleeping bag and camped out in my car again? That was fun in a weird, hysterical crying, sort of way,” I look up at him with a bashful smile.
Talk about a night of ups and downs.
“Maybe. Let me look into some stuff and we’ll go from there. Agreed?”
I nod emphatically. “Agreed.”
“Help!” someone cries out as we get closer to the falls. “Oh my god. Help us!”
I look at Ryan and before I can think too much into it, I’m running at a full-out sprint towards the sound of the voice. More cries for help guide my way, and as I reach the wooden bridge that overlooks the falls, a man is hunched against the railing, holding his chest.
Fuck. It’s a MI.
“Hi,” I touch the shoulder of a tall, thin woman with spindly graying hair
, and wildly terrified brown eyes. Her head snaps around towards me and the second she sees me, relief flashes through her. “My name is Kate and I’m an acute care nurse. What’s going on?”
I walk over to the large-bellied, middle-aged balding man, who is sweating profusely despite the cool temperatures. He’s panting, grabbing his chest and as I get closer, I see his coloring isn’t right.
Shit. This is bad.
“I don’t know,” the woman says frantically. “We were just standing here, and then Gerald started grabbing his chest saying that it hurt. A lot of pressure, he kept saying.”
“Gerald, I’m Kate,” I touch his shoulder, trying to pry him away from the railing so I can move him over to the bench that’s not too far off. “Can you walk at all?”
“I don’t know. It hurts. A lot of pressure.” He’s rubbing his sternum and can barely hold his weight up.
I look to the woman. “Did you call 911?” I’m trying to stay calm, but this is dire. If I don’t get help for this guy, he’s going to go down. Soon.
“I don’t have my phone with me,” she starts sobbing.
Ryan finally catches up to me, looking around anxiously. “What’s going on, Katie?”
“Ryan,” I’m so fucking glad he’s here right now. “Call 911. Tell them that we’ve got a probable MI. A male complaining of chest pain, shortness of breath and diaphoresis.” He’s looking at me like I just spoke in Chinese. “Just call 911, Ryan. We need them here, stat,” I bark at him. He gets where I’m going and pulls out his phone. “How long have you been having pain, Gerald?”
“I don’t know,” he manages, but it’s getting harder for him to talk, and his breathing is even more labored. “Five minutes maybe? I wasn’t feeling all that good this morning.” I sling his arm around me and walk us towards the bench, using herculean strength to get him there since he weighs a ton and isn’t able to help much. Setting him down, I lean him back so I can evaluate him better and give his body a rest.
“Are you on any medications?”
The woman whom I assume is his wife is next to me now, hovering over him.
“Yes. He’s on Atenolol, baby aspirin and Lipitor.”
Awesome. “Do you happen to have any of those medications on you?” I ask, putting my fingers to his wrist to try and get a pulse rate. I’d fucking kill for my stethoscope right now.
“I have his aspirin,” the lady says and I can’t help the mild relief that flashes through me.
“Perfect.” His pulse is thready. Not good. We’re in trouble here. Big time. “Take out four of them and give them to Gerald to chew.”
“He already took his dose this morning and he’s only supposed to take one,” she tells me like I’m trying to kill her husband instead of helping him.
“I understand that…” I trail off since I don’t know her name.
“Sharon.”
“Sharon,” I echo, “but I’m trying to save your husband’s life right now. Aspirin is first line treatment when you’re concerned about a heart attack, which is exactly what I believe Gerald is having.” Both of them look up at me, but there’s no sense in candy-coating it. “Give him the four pills now, please,” I look over at her with a grin that says I’m in charge, but is also calm and reassuring. I’ve mastered it during my tenure in the ED and ICU. “I know what I’m doing. This is my job.”
She nods, fishing through her bag to find the bottle.
“Ambulance is eight minutes out,” Ryan announces, joining us by the bench. That’s not stellar, but not much I can do about it. “The operator is on the phone and she’d like to speak to you.”
He shoves the phone in my hand and steps back, not knowing what else to do.
“Hi. This is Kate,” I say as I bring the phone up to my ear.
“I’m Sophia, the 911 operator. This call is being recorded on an open line. Can you tell me more about the situation? I have dispatch listening in as well.” This chick is all business. I freaking love 911 operators. It may be the hardest job in the world, but they do it damn well and I have nothing but the upmost respect for them.
“Yes. I’ve got a man in his mid-fifties, I’m guessing,” I get a thumbs up for that, “complaining of chest pain times seven minutes. He’s diaphoretic and short of breath. Describes a lot of chest pressure. His wife informs me he’s taking Atenolol, Lipitor and baby aspirin. She had the aspirin on her, and I’ve instructed him to take an additional four of those. He’s bradycardic with a pulse of forty-six and it’s thready.”
“Okay, Kate. I’ve noted the patient’s condition and dispatch has been notified as well. Can you tell us anything else about the situation that would be helpful for the responding team?”
“No,” I turn away from them and take a few steps and speak quietly. “But they need to hurry up because this guy is going to go down soon. I can just feel it.”
“I hear you,” Sophia says in a deeply soothing cadence. “They’re four minutes out. Just do what you can. I realize that since you are a nurse you’re at least familiar with basic lifesaving?”
“I’m an ED and ICU nurse. I’m ACLS certified. I’m on it, but let’s hope we don’t get there.” I turn back around and walk towards Gerald, who’s looking like he’s seen better days. “I’m going to hand you back to Ryan so I can attend to Gerald. Thank you, Sophia. You’re aces.”
I hand the phone back and sit next to Gerald, trying to check his pulse again. “I feel like I’m going to be sick,” he rasps out, still clutching his chest tightly.
“I know, Gerald.” I squeeze his other hand. “I’ve got you. Just keep taking slow deep breaths. Help will be here soon.” And just as the words leave my mouth, I hear sirens getting closer.
Thank Christ.
Ryan looks like a fish out of water and is constantly running his hands through his hair with the phone pressed to his ear as he paces an apprehensive circle. Sharon is trying desperately to hold herself together, but is losing this battle quickly as tears are starting to stream over onto her cheeks.
“Sharon, I hear the paramedics coming,” I look her dead in the eyes. “You need to hang on and stay strong.”
She nods, understanding the gravity of my words. We’re all scared, no doubt about that, but pacing and falling apart will only make this situation worse.
Suddenly in a whirlwind, paramedics, police and maybe even the fire department descend upon us.
They’re shooting questions a million miles a minute and everyone, including poor Gerald, look to me for the answers. I relay everything I know about the situation and the paramedics get Gerald hooked up to oxygen and set up an IV of fluids while checking his vital signs—which are not stellar.
They strap him to the gurney in no time, and before I can even process what’s happening, they’re running off with him. Sharon follows, calling a thank you over her shoulder. Once everyone is gone and the scene is calm again, I drop onto the bench in an exhausted heap and then burst out laughing.
“What?” Ryan looks at me, startled by my reaction.
I shake my head. “Whew,” I run a hand across my forehead wiping away fake sweat. “That shit was intense. I really thought poor Gerald was going to crash any second and that I was going to have to perform CPR on him in front of his wife.”
I’m still laughing, which is just a weird reaction for me to have.
Must to be the adrenaline after effects or something.
I’ve done this hundreds of times. I’ve been in dozens of codes, held hands while people died in front of me, but that was always in a work setting. Always surrounded by other healthcare professionals and in the hospital.
I had nothing with me to help him other than myself and that’s a terrifying thing.
“Damn, that was a crazy rush.”
Ryan laughs now too, coming to sit down next to me. “You were incredible. I was scared shitless. I didn’t know what the fuck to do.”
“You were perfect,” I take his hand.
“You called for help and didn’t panic on me.”
“Do you think he’ll make it?”
I shrug. “I honestly don’t know. The fact that he was still conscious when they got to him is a good sign, but if I had to guess, I’d say he was having a rather large MI.”
We’re silent for a few moments before Ryan asks, “What do you want to do now?”
I look up at him and smile. “It’s a beautiful day, Mr. Grant. We should go and enjoy it while we can. Life is too goddamn short and unpredictable not to.”
Chapter 23
Ryan
“Holy boogers, it’s cold,” Katie says, huddling into herself as we hike down one of the bigger trails in the redwood forest. We left San Francisco at seven this morning, and the drive up here took almost six hours.
We did stop at a camping outlet store near here, which was a good thing because Katie’s right, it’s cold. Northern California is having an unseasonable cold snap.
Lucky us.
It’s in the low forties and there is no sun in the thick forest to warm us.
“Katie, baby, as much as I applaud your rugged spirit and all that crap, there is no freaking way I’m camping tonight. Not in the car or on the ground.”
“Totally freaking agree,” she nods emphatically. “But you have to admit that despite the cold, it’s so pretty here. I love hiking. I think I’d like to live in a place where I can go for hikes.”
Looking down, I nudge her with my elbow. “You realize Washington State has plenty of places to hike?”
“I see where you’re going with this, Mr. Grant,” she arches an eyebrow at me.
“Actually I was thinking.”
“Oh?”
“Since the weather is less than wonderful here, what if we head up to Portland tomorrow and get to Seattle a day early?”
Katie stops dead in her tracks, looking up at me. “Why?” She’s trying to keep her expression neutral, but I can see the hurt in her eyes. She thinks I’m trying to end this.
