by Ashlee Price
Her back arches and her entire body shudders as she tightens around me. I manage a few more thrusts and pour myself into her just as her shuddering dies down.
After that, I stay still for a moment to catch my breath and wait for the haze to pass. Then I pull out. I put my pants back on, then grab the box of tissues from the glove compartment.
"Get cleaned up and dressed," I say as I put the box on her chest.
Before she can answer or give me any kind of look, I grab my shirt and jacket and get out of the car. I close the door to give her some privacy and wait.
After a few minutes, the door opens and she emerges, fully clothed. Her hair is a mess. Her mouth forms a scowl.
I give that mouth one last kiss, a quick one as I close the car door and lock it.
"See you back inside," I say before walking off as if nothing happened. I don't even glance back. I just place my car keys in my pocket and walk back to the bar.
Cold and mechanical, just as Adam said.
And fucking satisfied.
Chapter One
Marian
The smell of blood - death - and bleach - sterility. The sound of wheels turning as someone is rolled into surgery, of shoes skidding frantically to get where they need to be, of a keyboard clicking, of a phone ringing, of someone yelling, wailing, holding their breath. I sense them all when I close my eyes. And if I close my eyes even tighter, I can almost hear hearts beating, some growing weaker by the minute, others fighting...
"Dr. Red!" The voice of Dr. Hansen jolts me out of my reverie.
I open my eyes to find the petite, wide-hipped gynecologist standing in front of me, staring at me - no, glaring at me - from behind her red-framed eyeglasses and now, from above them.
I clear my throat. "Yes, Dr. Hansen?"
"Do you want me to tell Dr. Townsend you've been napping in the corridor?"
My back straightens. My eyes open wide, alert. "No, Dr. Hansen."
I definitely don't want the Chief Resident to know that, especially not when I already pissed him off last week when I failed to report that my intern had gone AWOL. Not that he ever liked me to begin with, not since I caught him making out with a nurse on the stairwell two weeks into my internship.
"Then go get the lab results for Mrs. Archer stat," Dr. Hansen barks. "And don't let me catch you napping again, Red."
"Yes, ma'am," I answer as she waddles off.
I let out a sigh as I lean against the wall and look up at the ceiling.
"What happened to you?" Kelly asks as she passes by.
I glance at my fellow resident. "Did I tell you that Dr. Hansen still calls me 'Dr. Red'? I've told her a gazillion times that my name is Marian Carver. Dr. Carver."
"And I've told her a gazillion times that my name is Kelly Burbank, but she still calls me 'Braids'. Even though I'm no longer wearing braids." She points to her blonde ponytail. "At least she calls you 'Doctor'."
"Only when she's really pissed," I say.
"Like how your mother used to say your whole name when she was pissed?"
I give another sigh. "I barely knew my mother, remember?"
"Right. Sorry."
"Anyway, I better go," I tell her as I pull myself off the wall. "I need to get lab results for Dr. Duckberg."
I start walking off.
"Hey," Kelly calls after me. "Are you alright?"
Sweet, sweet Kelly. Sometimes I think she's too sweet to be a doctor. Other times, I think she's exactly what this hospital needs. And what I need.
I stop and glance over my shoulder. "I'm fine, Kel. I've just been having a bad morning is all."
"Okay."
I keep walking. "I'm fine, Kel. I'm not one of your patients, so I don't need you to worry about me."
"If you say so."
I glance back. "By the way, have you, by any chance, seen my interns? I mean the three interns I have left."
Kelly shakes her head. "Nope."
I roll my eyes. God, I sure hope they're not having a threesome in the supply closet.
"By the way..." she adds.
I turn. "Yeah?"
"There's a hunk in room 2412." Kelly flashes me a mischievous grin. "Taking a peek at him might just make your day a bit better."
I roll my eyes again as I turn away. I don't have time to check out a member of the male species, hunk or otherwise. I don't have time for anyone other than patients and doctors. Liam pointed that out perfectly when we broke up last week.
Still, I think as I turn a corner, room 2412 is on the way to the lab.
Besides, I'll just be taking a peek.
~
Fine. I'm taking a thorough, three-minute peek.
How can I help it when the man on the bed is an anatomical wonder? His features are perfectly symmetrical, which is something I've rarely seen, whether in patients or in cadavers. Smooth, sun-bronzed skin is draped over impeccable bone structure - high cheekbones, a forehead I feel like I can flatten my palm on, a prominent, narrow nose that's slightly bulbous at the tip, a square chin that rivals Superman's. Not even the trimmed hair that coats the lower half of his face can take away from that.
Oh, what I'd give to study that face up close.
Suddenly, his eyes open and the breath I didn't even know I was holding leaves me in a soft gasp. He turns his head and his dark eyes meet mine. They narrow at first beneath creased, thick eyebrows. Thick, but not bushy. Then they light up as his thin lips form a smile beneath his mustache, bringing out the lines at the sides of his mouth.
I stand a little straighter and swallow.
"Aren't you going to come in and give me a kiss?" he asks in a husky voice that makes my heart stop.
I run my fingers nervously through my hair. "W-why would I do that, Mr...." I quickly glance at the name by the door. "Montgomery?"
"Dustin," he corrects me. "Because you look like you want to."
In spite of the fact that it isn't true, I blush. "I was just..."
"Just kidding," Dustin says. "Seriously, though, shouldn't you come in? You're a doctor, aren't you?"
"I am?"
"The white coat." He points at what I'm wearing. "The stethoscope around your slender neck. And that smart look in your eyes."
"You mean the lack of sleep in my eyes."
He chuckles. "Well, come in. You've been waiting for me to wake up so you can check my vitals, haven't you? Or have you just been standing there watching me sleep?"
Again, my cheeks feel warm.
He crooks a finger. "Come on, I won't bite. Not unless you want me to."
I ignore the prickling sensation in my cheeks, draw a deep breath and step forward.
"Mr. Montgomery, please stop flirting," I tell him as I pull my stethoscope off my neck.
"Maybe not even then," he goes on as if he hasn't heard me. "I can't really do anything while I'm confined to this bed and hooked to all this stuff. I'm helpless."
"Somehow, I find that hard to believe."
I pull his blanket down and slip the bell of my stethoscope beneath the partition of his gown. It rests on a firm pectoral.
"You can take off my shirt if you want," Dustin says.
"This is fine." I place the eartips of my instrument in my ears. "Now, if you could be quiet for a few seconds, I really need to listen to your heart."
"Sure. In fact, you can listen to my heart all day."
I focus on the sound of his heartbeat. Steady. Good.
I take off my stethoscope.
"Well, what did it say?" Dustin asks.
"It says you're good to go for your surgery. An appendectomy, right?"
He laughs.
My eyebrows rise. "I'm sorry, Mr. Montgomery. Is there anything funny?"
"The fact that I've been healthy as a horse all my life, that I've been skydiving and bungee jumping and kite surfing and yet I've never had a broken bone, nothing more than a scratch here, a bruise there."
I look at the strip of paler skin on his arm just below where he has this t
attoo of a horseshoe wrapped in some thorny vine. "This seems like more than a scratch or a bruise."
He lifts his arm to look at it, too. "It's nothing. Just a cut I got when I was climbing this rock. Got five stitches."
I nod.
"Anyway, I've never had any serious injuries, then one day, while I'm simply lying in bed, watching a movie, my appendix acts up and here I am."
"Well, the human body is a mystery," I tell him.
"I know that." He lifts his hand to touch my cheek. "And I know that yours is..." his gaze travels over me, "one I'd like to investigate and unravel."
I take his hand off me and step back.
"Mr. Montgomery - !"
"You're very pretty. Do you know that, Dr....?"
"Carver," I supply. "And I'm not. That's just the morphine talking."
"You're not?" He looks puzzled. "What? Hasn't your boyfriend said otherwise? If not, you should dump him."
Come to think of it, in all our three years together, Liam never did pay me such a compliment. He'd say my clothes were nice, clothes he helped me pick, or he'd say the pimple on my cheek was almost gone, but that's it. I guess I was right to dump him.
"I have," I answer. "But I still don't believe you."
"Because your nose is a little small? Or you have that tiny gap between your front teeth? I think they're both cute."
Instinctively, I purse my lips. "Because you're high on morphine."
"A doctor with low self-esteem? Isn't that dangerous? Shouldn't you have complete faith in yourself?"
"I have complete faith in my skills as a doctor," I affirm.
"And what about your other skills? Like your skills in bed? Shouldn't doctors have that - bedroom skills?"
"You mean bedside manner."
"Same thing."
"No." I shake my head. "And you, Mr. Montgomery, should be resting, so I'll be leaving."
"Don't leave." He grabs my arm and looks into my eyes. "Don't leave just because I scare you."
I grin. "Mr. Montgomery, you don't scare me. You're a patient."
He grins wider. "A very handsome patient."
"Who's high on morphine and starting to get annoying," I add.
His grip on me tightens. "Marry me."
My eyes grow wide. "What?"
"Marry me, Dr. Carver," he repeats.
My mouth gapes. I pull my arm away. "Mr. Montgomery, may I remind you again that - "
"Why? You think I don't want to marry you? You're pretty. You're smart. But you don't like to brag about any of that, which means you're a good person."
I roll my eyes. Unfortunately, the sweetest praises in the world mean squat coming from someone on drugs who's going to forget all this later.
"You're also not very confident, and I'd like to know why. I'd like to make you less shy. I can teach you things you never learned in med school. Plus I feel like we get along. And did I say you're pretty?"
I sigh. "Bye, Mr. Montgomery."
I turn and walk away.
"If you don't marry me, I'll die," Dustin says.
I stop in my tracks and frown. Unbelievable.
I turn around. "Mr. Montgomery, you're having an appendectomy through laparoscopy. It's a simple procedure which will be over before you know it. I assure you, you won't die."
"I'll hold my breath," he threatens.
What is he? Two years old?
"Mr. Montgomery..."
He purses his lips and holds his breath. I put my hands on my hips.
"Mr. Montgomery, this is stupid and you know it. And it won't work. It won't."
His cheeks turn darker. Shit.
I rush to his bedside and cup his face. "Mr. Montgomery!"
His eyes meet mine but he doesn't open his mouth.
I glance at the ceiling. "This is so unfair."
Still, his face remains tense. His cheeks grow even redder.
"Fine!" I give in just for the sake of saving his life, which is what I've sworn to do. "I'll marry you."
To my relief, he opens his mouth and gasps for air. I release his face and wipe the sweat from my forehead.
"You'll marry me?" Dustin asks.
I sigh. "That's what I said."
To hell with it. He won't remember this later anyway.
"You'll marry me?" he asks again.
"I said I would, didn't I?"
"Did someone say something about getting married?" a man asks from behind me.
I turn my head to find a balding man in a suit. I give him a puzzled look.
"I'm sorry. You are...?"
"I'm Martin McGee. I'm authorized to issue marriage licenses to couples who want to get married here at the hospital and also to officiate ceremonies."
My eyebrows rise. There's someone like that at this hospital? I've never heard of it.
"Very funny, Mr. McGee." I glance at Dustin. "What? Is this part of your prank, too?"
"Yes, we're getting married," Dustin tells the man. "Marry us. Please. I don't want to die alone."
My shoulders sink. "You're not going to die."
"Do you have an ID?" Mr. McGee asks him.
He glances at the bedside table.
I put a hand on my hip. "Really, this is very funny."
Mr. McGee gets Dustin's wallet from the drawer of the bedside table and pulls out his driver's license before turning to me. "And you?"
"She's wearing it," Dustin says.
I raise my hands. "Okay. This isn't funny anymore."
Just then, someone else comes into the room. A nurse.
"Dr. Carver, Dr. Hansen is asking if you have those lab results."
My fingers snap. Right. Shit.
"I'm getting them."
"But sweetheart..." Dustin protests.
I ignore him, but before I can get out of the room, my interns arrive.
I raise my chin. "Where have you been?"
"In the restroom," Dana answers just as Jeff says "cafeteria" and Mandy says "in the pit".
I cross my arms over my chest. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you've been causing me? And yes, I know interns are supposed to cause trouble, but hasn't it occurred to you that I've had enough? Or that you're supposed to be learning how to be fine doctors and you can't do that in the restroom or the cafeteria?"
They start mumbling excuses and apologies all at the same time. My head starts to hurt and I rub my temples.
Interns.
"Dana..."
But they just go on prattling like toddlers.
"Dr. Carver," Mr. McGee interjects.
"What?" I ask impatiently.
I'd forgotten he was still here.
"I know you're busy..."
I give a sarcastic grin. "Oh, does it look like it?"
"But if you could just answer one question. Do you, Marian Carver...?"
I don't hear the rest because the squabbling of my interns gets louder. My patience snaps.
"Shut up, all of you!" I shout at them.
Finally, they stop.
"Dana, get the lab results for Mrs. Archer."
She runs off, leaving me with two interns. Just as I'm about to recover some peace of mind, a commotion stirs in the room across from us. I see the Code Team coming down the hall.
"Shit."
"Marian?" Dustin calls my name.
God, he's just so annoying.
"I said yes, didn't I?" I shout at him over my shoulder before scrambling to the other room to save a life.
I love being a doctor. Really, I do. But days like this, when the patients, the other doctors and my interns are all being difficult, I wish I wasn't one.
~
"Tough day, huh?" Kelly asks me as we step through the sliding doors of the hospital.
As always, I take a moment to breathe the fresh air, the air of the world outside the hospital that I often forget exists. It smells of freedom, but I'm not completely free. Even out here in this world, the emotions I've felt through the day still linger.
"Yeah." I nod. "Then
again, every day is a tough day, isn't it?"
"Some are tougher than the rest," she says as we continue walking to the parking lot. "So, did you get to see the patient in Room 2412?"
I roll my eyes. "I don't want to talk about him."
"So you did. Well, that's one bright spot in your day."
"That was one of the darkest spots," I correct her.
Her eyebrows crease. "Why?"
"I don't want to talk about him," I repeat.
And I don't want to think about him. Not his perfectly symmetrical face or his sweet words dripping with morphine.
"I heard his appy went well," Kelly says.
I nod. "That's good."
She nudges my shoulder. "Still don't want to talk about him?"
"There's nothing to talk about," I say.
"Then why do you look so happy that his appy went well?"
I look at her. "Because we're supposed to be happy anytime a surgery goes well?"
"Right." Kelly falls silent for a moment. "You know, Mandy told me - "
"I don't want to talk about my interns, either." I shake my head. "They already cause me so much trouble when I'm inside the hospital. Can they please not be allowed to cause me trouble out here?"
Kelly puts up her hands. "Fine."
"Thanks."
"Well, do you want to talk about getting a drink?" she asks me.
"I'll pass," I answer. "I can't wait to get to bed."
Kelly nods. "Straight to bed it is."
We part ways at the parking lot and I get inside my amber Avalon. How I manage to keep myself awake and focused enough to drive home to my apartment, I don't know. I'm just glad I do. As soon as I get to my apartment, I slip into some fresh clothes and throw myself face down onto the bed. I bury my face in my soft pillow, which still smells of my shampoo, and close my eyes. My thoughts immediately drift to the patient in Room 2412.
Dustin Montgomery.
He was crazy. And hot in a way that still sets my cheeks on fire and makes my skin tingle just to think of him and all those things he said. But crazy. It's a good thing he probably doesn't remember me anymore now that his surgery is over.
It's a good thing, Marian.
I tell myself that over and over as I wait for sleep to wash over me. Still, I can't help but wonder how it would feel like to be married to someone like him, and that's the last clear thought I have before everything gets muddled and fades away.
