Too Much Information (Awkward Love 3)

“I’ll have a spare key ready for you tomorrow,” I say stiffly. “I’ll show you the spare room. Towels are in here.” I open up the cupboard just inside the bathroom door, snatching down my lacy underwear, which is hanging from the shower rail. I wish I’d tidied up. He smothers a laugh. “Help yourself to whatever you find in the kitchen. If you don’t mind, I might go to bed.”

“Sure.” He smiles at me, and I force one back, then turn on my heel and stalk down the hallway. “Laura?” I turn around. “Thanks for this. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”Chapter Five

LukeI won’t chop you up and wear you like a second skin?

What the fuck was I thinking? No wonder she’s avoiding me.

At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going on because she’s gone when I get up and never there when I’m home. It’s Wednesday night, my fourth night here, and given our hectic schedules, it would be easy to believe that we’re both just very busy, but considering our history, I think it’s more than that. In all the long hours we’ve both been working, I’ve seen her twice at the hospital. The first time, she didn’t even acknowledge me. The second time, she managed a tiny smile, so I guess that’s progress. Still, I can’t force her to like me after what happened, but I’m hoping it’ll become less of an issue the more she gets to know me. If she gets to know me because, the way this is going, she’s going to keep avoiding me until I leave.

It’s a shame because I think I could really like her. She’s smart, witty, sexy, and the fact that she’s not obsessed with her looks is a major turn-on for me. I want to put her at ease, but aside from not knowing how to do that, I’m so overwhelmed with work that I don’t have time to worry about anything else. Hell, I don’t even have time to breathe at the moment.

I’ve been looking forward to this fellowship for a long time, and I’m frustrated that it’s taking me longer to settle into it than I thought it would. The hours are long, and I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing. I never realized how good I had it where I was, until now. I’m sure that once I get used to the workload, things will be better, but it’s not just that I’m struggling with.

I’ve been on the kid’s cardiac rotation all week, and it’s really getting me down having to work with patients who have barely had time to live between their doctors’ visits and lengthy hospital stays. I can’t stand watching them suffer through something that might end up killing them anyway. Sickness is never easy, but at least you can almost justify it in someone who’s eighty or ninety because they’ve lived a full life. They’ve done things and seen things that some of these kids haven’t. They don’t deserve this. I guess that’s what makes it so satisfying when you do manage to help them. Knowing you’ve done something to improve their quality of life is what makes it all worthwhile.

Today has been a particularly rough day because I’ve been working alongside Professor Lincoln Lewin, one of the best children’s cardiac specialists in the country and one of the reasons I wanted Mercy. Working with sick kids is hard enough, but when you throw in working with one of your professional idols—who also happens to be as intimidating as hell—it’s a whole new set of pressures.

“Are you keeping up with me?” Lewin asks as we head toward our next patient—our last for today. “Because I’ve saved the best till last.”

“I’m ready.” I nod, as we stop outside a room.

“Ben Saunders,” Lewin begins. “Eight years old. He’s been in and out of the hospital for most of his life, thanks to numerous medical issues. They were being controlled by a regime of medications until last month when his heart started failing. He’s on the waiting list for a transplant, but with his rare blood type, finding a match is proving difficult.”

I nod and follow him into the room, already feeling sorry for this poor kid.

“Linc,” the boy says, his face lighting up.

“Ben, my man. How’s my best patient doing?” Lewin asks, ruffling his hair.

Ben nods and holds up an Xbox controller, a triumphant smile on his freckled face. He brushes his dark hair back into place and smiles a toothy grin, but behind that happy attitude is a very tired and sick little boy.

“Top score again. You wanna try and beat me again or are you too chicken?” he taunts.

I glance at Lewin, a small smile on my lips. Again? I can’t picture Lincoln Lewin doing anything remotely fun. Lewin catches my look and winks.