Clarity

by Gabbie S. Duran

  My mouth is slightly open as I gawk at her.

  She dismissed me.

  Me.

  I’m usually the one dismissing the girls when I’m done with them. How in the hell did it happen to me? Still standing in her office, I take a moment to consider her offer. The time is not what I would have chosen for myself, but since she has clearly walked away without giving me a chance to respond, I’m left with no choice.

  This girl better be worth it if I have to get up so damn early in the morning.

  I hightail it as fast as I can then step into the ladies’ room, hoping he isn’t following me. I would have thought he’d be happy when I left him behind in the exam room, but I was clearly mistaken. How the hell did he get back here, anyway? There are signs forbidding patients to do so. You’d have to be incompetent to not see them. Where the hell was the security guard?

  Reaching the ladies’ room, I lock it behind me and lean against the door, trying to calm myself. It works, eventually, after a few minutes. Taking deep breaths, my aggravation dwindles and I’m able to bring my erratic heartbeat under control.

  Taking one final breath before I unlock the door, I brace myself in case someone is on the other side; thankfully, there isn’t. With the coast clear, I make my way back to my office, hopeful he isn’t still waiting for me. I’m relieved when I find it empty.

  Sitting back down behind my desk, Katie walks in, taking her spot behind her own with a look of excitement on her face. “Taylor, you’ll never believe who was here.” I already know whom she’s referring to, forcing me to internally roll my eyes. “Nick Hunter!” she excitingly exclaims. “Oh. My. God,” she sighs, fanning herself. “He was so hot, too. What do you suppose he was doing back here?”

  “He’s one of my patients. He must have followed me back here,” I answer while organizing the mess I’ve made. I’d thrown his file across my desk, scattering all the others I had resting upon it.

  Wide-eyed and stunned, Katie looks back at me. “What? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were seeing Nick Hunter today,” she barks at me, obviously disappointed I didn’t inform her. I’d forgotten how much of a fan she was of the White Sox. She was born and raised on them. She could probably have given me every detail about Nick Hunter without me having to ask.

  “It’s not a big deal, Katie. You know we see professional athletes all the time. I don’t understand what makes him so special,” I say, wondering what the whole fascination with athletes is all about.

  Her eyes grow wider, as if I’ve just grown a second head. “Are you kidding me? He’s like the most eligible bachelor in the sports world! And you get to touch him . . . freely . . . without having to ask,” she says, waving her hand around to emphasize her point before her eyes go all dreamy. With that look, I can only imagine the way she would touch him, especially in the most private of places.

  “You know what, he didn’t really like me so why don’t you take him? I could transfer everything over to you,” I say, hoping she’ll take the bait so I don’t have to deal with his ignorant ass if he returns. Her eyes light up with excitement, but just as quickly she shakes her head.

  “I know what you’re trying to do, and it isn’t going to work. No, if I take him on as a patient, I won’t have a chance at dating him, and I’m not ruining that chance. You’ll just have to give me details on exactly what he likes, so start taking notes,” she orders.

  Dammit.

  She had to remember how we’re forbidden to have relationships with our patients.

  “He’s probably being difficult and now you don’t want to deal with him,” she proclaims.

  “I can handle him,” I grumble, trying to convince myself more than her.

  “Good. Just don’t manhandle him. That’s my job,” she says with a wink.

  Rolling my eyes then turning them back to my computer, my thoughts unwillingly return to Nick. He may be good looking, but lucky for Katie she doesn’t have to worry about me being any sort of competition. I’m not seeking a relationship, especially with a jock. I’ve learned my lesson. Today was proof that they’re all the same. They’re only after what benefits them.

  I’m pretty sure when it comes to Nick Hunter, I’m going to have to build up the ice in my veins to get him to obey, because he’s already showing signs he wants a battle, and I was ready to give him one.

  TUESDAY NORMALLY COMES and goes, but when I awake on Wednesday morning and open my eyes, I’m already dreading the day to come. There’s no doubt in my mind today will be a struggle. At least it may be if Nick shows up. I have to remind myself that after Monday’s fiasco I’ve decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. For the first time in my life I’ve done my research on a patient, and from what information I gathered on Nick Hunter, he’s dedicated to the game. He has been since the first time he stepped up to the plate, so I wouldn’t expect anything less from him when it comes to his therapy if he wants to return to the field.

  Katie hasn’t ceased hounding me, constantly suggesting questions for me to ask Nick. After a couple of hours I couldn’t take anymore and irritably snapped at her. It wasn’t intentional. I was at my limit with her ogling Nick. She was upset with me for the remainder of the day, but by the time we got home, she had gotten over it. I’d repeated exactly what he’d said during his initial appointment, yet it only fueled her quest. She saw him as an easy score. One she wouldn’t have to work hard to get. Rolling my eyes at her response, I just walked away, completely giving up.

  Looking over at the clock and noticing the time, I force myself to finally get up and ready before I have my own personal drill sergeant yelling at me. Dragging my sleepy body over to the shower, I hope the cold water will finish waking me up. I get in and find it helps do the trick, to an extent. I still need my caffeine. Today feels like another Monday, but only because I don’t feel like going to work. Maybe if I called in sick it’ll force Katie to take over Nick’s therapy session and she can grill him herself. Sighing to myself, I know I can’t. I wouldn’t do that to my other patients.

  An hour later, we arrive at work and Katie goes straight to our office while I make a beeline for my much-needed coffee. On the way back, I stop at the vending machine to pick up some chocolate, already knowing it’s going to be one of those days. When I have a bad day, chocolate always seems to perk me up. God knows it’s better than drinking.

  Reaching my desk, I hide my stash in my drawer and start downing my coffee before I head over to my first patient of the day. It’s a girl in high school who I’ve been seeing for the last month after she sustained an injury to her arm playing volleyball. Before her injury, she was really good and was already being scouted by colleges. She wants to be fully recovered before summer camp comes up, so she was determined to get better. She came to every appointment and gave me 100% without any questions asked. It made me wish a certain person felt the same determination towards their recovery.

  The appointment goes well, as usual, and with today’s progress, I inform her she’d probably only need a couple more sessions and would be set for clearance. With her leaving excited, it brings a smile to my face until I look over at the clock and notice the time. Her progress made me so excited that I had lost track of time, pushing her session a bit late into the next time slot. It was 9:18 A.M. by the time she walked out of the door. Clearly, someone was late. Giving Nick the benefit of the doubt, I wait fifteen more minutes before I finally grow tired of waiting and return to my office.

  At this point, I’m pissed, but not surprised he blew me off. What was I expecting from someone like him? I knew from the beginning he wouldn’t care. However, I’d ignored my inner reluctance and given him the benefit of the doubt. Reaching my desk, and knowing I now have the next half hour to myself, I start preparing the paperwork I need to mail out to help distract myself. I’m licking the envelope closed when I hear a deep voice from my doorway.

  “I could give you something else to lick when you’re done with that,” Nick says, making me
jump in my seat and knock my knee on my desk, giving me a major Charlie horse.

  Grimacing, I rub at my kneecap to help relieve the stinging tingle in my leg then snap my head up to face Nick. He has a huge smirk on his face as he stares at me with his head tilted, looking pretty smug with himself. I want so badly to slap that look off his face.

  He stands there with his hands in the pockets of a pair of black basketball shorts and White Sox t-shirt. “You’re not supposed to be back here,” I bark at him, still holding the grudge over my injury against him. He thinks he can just parade himself around the building? Where the hell is security when you need them?

  Shrugging his shoulder at me, he casually answers, “You weren’t in the room where we’re supposed to meet.”

  “If you would’ve shown up on time like you were supposed to, you would have found me there. Since you’re—” I look over at my clock on the wall for the time and notice it’s now 9:52 A.M., “—fifty-two minutes late, Mr. Hunter, I took it as notice that you didn’t care about your career. With that being the case, I’ll inform your manager,” I throw at him.

  His face grows irritated instantly and his jaw tightens up. I can practically see him grinding his teeth under the skin of his cheek. I’ve finally gotten to him and I don’t know whether to be ecstatic about it or worried with the look he’s giving me.

  “I’ll repeat, you’re not supposed to be back here. So if you would please leave, I’d really appreciate it,” I say as I reach for the phone, ready to page security, but for some reason I can’t force myself to do it and my hand hovers motionless over the receiver.

  “What’s so wrong with me being back here?”

  “You’re a patient, and patients are not allowed back here for security reasons.”

  I’m pissed. With any other patient, I would have already called security on them for violating the rules, but with Nick I find myself breaking them. Nick is about to respond when Katie walks into our office. The moment she spots Nick at the door, she grows excited, immediately starting a conversation with him, batting her lashes as she vies for his attention. Great, she’s only encouraging his behavior. Within a couple of minutes I get a page over the intercom announcing my next appointment. Standing then exiting the office, I leave Katie to ogle over Nick, rolling my eyes on the way out. I guess I should feel relieved about not having to deal with him, but I don’t. For some reason I’m irritated he’s back there, probably already getting Katie’s number and setting up his next easy score, as Katie has put it.

  I look around searching for security and I don’t see them anywhere. I’m going to have to have a stern talk with him for not doing his job and allowing the patients to just roam around freely. What the hell are we paying him for?

  Regardless, at least Nick Hunter is no longer my priority. My next two patients are. I’ll just deal with Nick when the time comes, which will most likely be never again since he’s proven he doesn’t care about his career after all.

  The next two hours go smoothly, ending my morning and allowing me to escape for lunch. Today I need out; I need to get some fresh air, especially so the fresh air can get a specific someone out of my head who has managed to weasel his way in. Explaining to Katie that I didn’t feel well enough to go out for lunch with her and Sarah, she leaves without me and I’m relieved I won’t have to hear whether or not she was able to get a date with Nick. Grabbing a sandwich from the local deli, I make my way to the building’s outdoor picnic area. It’s usually empty of people and I like it that way. What I need right now is some peace and quiet . . . My alone time.

  Looking at the clock it’s almost 12:30 and I know she should already be taking lunch. It’s odd that I still don’t know this girl’s name. In my mind I’ve been referring to her as my little firecracker, although she’s far from being mine. Up until now it hasn’t once occurred to me to ask somebody for her name. I could’ve asked her friend, but the girl never gave me a chance. From the moment she spotted me, she was all over me like a cat in heat, desperate to get laid. It was clear as day on her face. Normally, I would be all over girls like her. They’re easy targets, no questions asked, but my mind was somewhere else. For some reason Little Ms. Firecracker seems far from easy and I find myself curious as to why. For the last two days she’s been on my mind. Her spitfire attitude has had me constantly thinking of her. Not even the girl I slept with last night could help clear my mind of her. It was driving me fucking insane.

  My only problem was this girl was going to be a challenge. I knew it the moment I walked into that room and our eyes met. Hers didn’t light up as I’d expected them to do. At first my purpose was to escape her by convincing her to sign off on my paperwork, but the harder she put up a fight the more curious I was to know more about her. Does she have a boyfriend to put up with her saucy attitude? If she did, how the fuck does he tame the beast in her? It’s something I’m determined to find out.

  Growing frustrated when I don’t find her, I continue roaming the halls searching, knowing she hadn’t left with her co-workers for lunch. I’m about to give up on ever finding her when I spot her eating alone in an outdoor break area. Making my way outdoors to join her, I take a seat next to her and her body immediately tenses when she senses me at her side.

  “What do you want, Nick?”

  The sound of her saying my actual name is amusing since she’s been so reluctant to use it when I’ve asked. “So out here it’s Nick, but in there it’s the stuck up Mr. Hunter?” I sarcastically throw at her, trying my best not to laugh at her stunned gaze.

  “In there, I’m your physical therapist. Since you’ve interrupted my lunch break, I can call you whatever I want,” she clips out, looking as if she’d prefer to curse me instead. I can no longer contain my laughter as I throw my head back and let it out. It obviously doesn’t amuse her since she’s now glaring at me.

  Clearing my throat, I try a different tactic. “I just wanted to apologize about this morning. I was late because . . .” I pause to think of an excuse. “I’m not really a morning person, and well, 9 A.M. is really pushing it with me,” I say, hoping she believes it.

  It’s half the truth. I did get up on time, but after waking up with the same girl from the other night, and then trying to get her out of my apartment, I was late. Damn girl wouldn’t get the point and fucking leave. Two nights with her and she was already thinking we were in a committed relationship.

  It’s clear from her arched brow that she isn’t buying my excuse. “I’m not a morning person either, but it’s called responsibility, and if you choose not to have any then don’t bother wasting my time,” she states, already trying to stand. I reach out for her arm and she just as quickly yanks it back, causing her to lose her balance. Rapidly standing to catch her, my arm wraps around her waist, pulling her up against my chest.

  Her blinking eyes look up at me with shock, not knowing what to do. Taking advantage of having her in my arms, I breathe her in, and the first thing I notice is there isn’t an overwhelming scent of perfume radiating off her as there normally would be from a girl. The void of scent is alluring. Her cheeks are slightly blushed, making me smile. My reaction causes her to start frantically looking around, as if searching for someone.

  Glancing around, I find we’re still alone. “Looking for someone?”

  She pushes herself away from my chest and unwillingly I relinquish my hold of her, missing the feeling of her in my arms.

  “No, but I have to get back to work,” she mumbles while gathering up the remains of her lunch. “Look, Mr. Hunter,” she adds, back to her professional self, “since you don’t plan on taking your therapy serious with me, I’ll put in a request to have another therapist work with you. Maybe you’ll have better luck getting that clearance from someone else. Have a great day,” she says sharply, already making her way to the doors leading into the building.

  Swiftly catching up to her before she can enter the building, I block her retreat. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m really sorr
y. I’ll be on time next week, I promise,” I practically plead.

  She sighs, but her eyes never leave mine. Her almost sympathetic look gives me hope. “Fine, but one minute late and the deal is off,” she answers, sidestepping me and yanking open the door.

  This time I let her leave, but my eyes follow her down the hallway. Right before she turns the corner, she takes one last quick glance over her shoulder. The thought that she couldn’t resist looking back at me keeps me smiling. She finally disappears and it’s at that moment I realize I still haven’t learned her name. It doesn’t matter now. I always have next week. Until then, Little Ms. Firecracker fits her perfectly fine.

  I COULDN’T BRING myself to step in front of a bus to avoid having to go to Sarah’s bachelorette party, so here I am, forcing myself to get ready to attend it.

  Katie, being the shopaholic that she is, dragged me along with her a couple of days ago when she went shopping for a new dress for tonight. She was so excited about it she looked like a child in a candy store, as always. I, on the other hand, hate shopping. I would rather have my teeth pulled without anesthesia than wander through store after store for clothes.

  I’m a simple kind of girl. A pair of jeans, a simple tee, and Chucks is what I’m happiest in—one of the reasons why I love my job. I don’t have to spend money on work attire; it’s already provided. Simple scrubs are all I have to wear to work every day, meaning I never have to go shopping for business clothing to impress anyone.

  The only reason why I’m wearing a dress tonight is because I’m being forced to; otherwise, I would have shown up in jeans and a hoodie. Most clubs are dark anyway, what difference does it make what I’m wearing?