Need Me (Mess with Me 3)

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After a shower and a pep talk, I’ve changed into a clean set of scrubs for my first day working in the Emergency Room. I take a deep breath and regard myself with critical eyes in the bathroom mirror.

Change is here and I’m ready for it.

For years I’ve heard from nurse friends that the pace of emergency is different. Not that it wasn’t busy in the NICU but this is on a totally different level.

In just the first hour of my shift we had two gunshot wounds, a heart attack and a suspected domestic assault. Things slowed a little giving me hope and then started all over again when there was a wave of injuries from a bar brawl. One of the guys had a piece of glass stuck in his face so close to his eye that it was a miracle he could see.

Why did I think this would be less heartbreaking?

“You’ve had a rough first day, kid. And I was hoping to convince you to leave that agency and go full-time here.” Jackie, the nurse supervisor, pauses to enter something in the computer.

“This is definitely something.”

“I know you’re about to leave but can you take this one first? Suspected wrist fracture and possible concussion. They gave him something for pain in the ambulance.” She hands me the next chart. “Guy got hit by a car.”

“Sure thing.” When I see the name on the chart I chuckle. The patient’s name is listed as Mickey Mouse.

Jackie smiles, too. “You noticed. We have a comedian. Or a criminal. But I hope it’s the first.”

I’m so busy looking over the patient’s chart that I don’t notice anything odd at first. Then I look up and gasp.

“You!”

Vin grins deliriously. “I knew it. I am in heaven. Or maybe hell if my little devil is here.”

I glance behind me to make sure Jackie isn’t close by. The last thing I need on my first day in a new department is to be the subject of gossip.

“What are you doing here? Did you follow me or something?”

He holds up his arm and I gasp at the sight of the bloody, ripped fabric wrapped around his forearm.

“Oh my god. You’re actually hurt.” Instantly I feel like the worst kind of bitch.

“I seem to be bleeding,” he mumbles, before squinting down at his arm like he’s not sure why it looks that way.

“Okay, let’s get you checked in so the doctor can take a look at this arm.”

He startles a little when I come closer with the blood pressure cuff. “It was me vs. taxicab. The cab won this time.”

“I see that. Any reason you were walking in traffic?”

He snorts. “I was trying to hail a ride and didn’t see this guy pulling up so fast. That’ll teach me to look where I’m going and stop daydreaming about blondes with smart mouths.”

I’m not touching that comment so I focus on taking his vitals.

“But it brought me here so that means I was right.”

“About what?”

He points at me with his good hand. “This. Us. I was just th

inking about you and now you’re here. It must be fate.”

Although he’s really cute when he’s delirious, what he says just proves I was right not to keep his number.

He’s a keeper. The kind of guy who says he can do casual but always ends up getting serious. Before you know it he’s buying a ring and bringing you home to mama.