My Bad (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 4)
Page 3
“I’m sorry, but I don’t date patients or military,” I told him, replying to his obviously silent question. “I’m sorry.”
“Not a patient yet, darlin’,” he said.
I did notice how he hadn’t denied being military, though.
“Navy?”
He made a face.
“Air Force?”
The face became even worse.
“Marines?”
He gagged.
“Coast Guard?”
He snorted loudly.
“Army.”
I saved the best for last.
His eyes lit up with amusement.
“Army,” I said again. “I should’ve known. You’re all the same.”
They weren’t all the same. I was teasing him.
But still.
He was fun to tease.
“Why don’t you date military?” he wondered.
“I’m back!” Shannon cried. “Now, you go pee too before you…oh. Shit. Sorry.”
My eyes never left the man in front of me.
“Can I help you?” Shannon asked with a frown.
Shannon was a sweet girl, and she was afraid of men. Especially big men like the one currently standing in the doorway, his shoulders practically touching each side.
“No,” the man said. “I’m waiting for her.”
“Oh, is this the boyfriend you were talking about?” Shannon asked teasingly.
I winced.
My sister, Phoebe, who was a nursing student here, and I had been talking about faking boyfriends so our mother would get off our backs. Shannon had walked in during the middle of the conversation and had misunderstood. I hadn’t corrected her seeing as my mother was the nursing director of the ER, and there was no way in hell I would put Shannon in a position where she would have to lie to my mother and her boss.
“How does your mother like him?” Shannon blinked as she continued. “It’s funny that she was trying to set you up with that marketing director last week and you had someone like him all along. That could’ve been an awkward conversation.” She paused. “Oh! Are you bringing him to the silent auction tomorrow night? You should. I’m bringing my best friend. We could all go out to eat afterward for dinner! You know how the food is at those kinds of things.”
Did she ever quit talking?
“You should take your break while we’re slo—” I held up my hand.
“You don’t ever mention that word in my ER,” I told her honestly. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
With that, I turned to the man who was watching it all with amusement written all over his face and gestured for him to get out of my way with a tilt of my chin.
“I have to pee. Move,” I ordered harshly.
He moved instantly.
But he didn’t go away.
When I got out of the bathroom and headed back into the main ER, he was sitting outside the locked entrance doors with his arms crossed over his chest.
The minute he saw me, his lips quirked up. “You never said yes to that date.”
I snorted and walked up next to him, inputting my code and waiting for the doors to open.
“No, I sure didn’t, did I?” I asked.
“You just inputted that code in front of me, and now I know it,” he helpfully pointed out.
I rolled my eyes. “What did you want me to do?”
“Wait until I left,” he said. “I shouldn’t know the code to get in. I’m a stranger. You barely know me. What if I was some killer, and now I know how to get in?”
I didn’t know why I’d done it in front of him, honestly. But something about him struck me as trustworthy.
“It’s being changed after shift today, anyway,” I lied.
It hadn’t been changed in so many years that I doubted anybody even thought about it anymore. Honestly, so many people needed to know the code—nurses, doctors, paramedics, and technicians. Hell, even the maintenance crew, housekeeping, and the food service needed to know it.
Changing it would be a pain in the ass.
Luckily, I sensed no ill will from the man. Not to mention I doubted he’d do a damn thing that would ever bring anyone harm—much like my own father.
My father had taught me a lot over my lifetime, and a lot of those things he’d taught me were life skills that one wouldn’t think they’d need.
Like people reading. Who would think that they’d need to know how to read someone?
Well, I figured out why when I was fourteen and saw a young girl around my age try to get me into a car with her because her foot was hurt.
I hadn’t gone, and a couple days later, that girl had been arrested for taking part in a gang initiation and killing another girl to accomplish her goal.
“Good.” He blew out a relieved breath. “Good. That’s good.”
The fact that he was worried about my well-being made me feel funny. I didn’t like that he cared.
“What’s your name?” I asked him.
I didn’t care, of course. But I couldn’t keep calling him ‘the man’ in my head. It was weird.
“Hoax,” he answered quickly. “Hoax Hudson Hicks.”
Then he held his hand out to me as if I was asking because I cared.