One Moment Please (Wait With Me #3)(23)

She winces when I rest my hand on her foot.

I add, “I’ll order you some ibuprofen for the swelling and a light narcotic for the pain. It’ll help if you end up needing stitches in your finger.”

She nods feebly, and I have a strange desire to comfort her, which is not something I do with my patients. In fact, I have a bit of a reputation around here for being ice cold to my patients and the staff, something that took the nurses a while to get used to. But you don’t live the life I’ve lived and treat the patients I’ve treated without learning how to build a fucking fortress of protection.

“As soon as your blood work comes back, I’ll get your pain meds ordered.” I move to examine her finger and look at her face to add, “Yeah, this’ll definitely need stitches.”

She can barely make eye contact with me, so I decide to press her.

“So how have you been?”

She huffs out a laugh. “I’ve been better.”

“Other than tonight’s unfortunate incident?” I rewrap her finger and a pang of annoyance hits me. “You were out on a date?”

She shrugs.

“And your date left you like this?”

She levels me with a glare. “It wasn’t a good date.”

“I’d say,” I grumble with a huff.

“Lose the judgmental tone, okay?” She pulls her hand free from mine and clutches it to her chest again. “I’ve had a rough enough night, and I don’t need you piling on more.”

“Pardon me.” I push back from her bedside. “I guess I don’t know what kind of tone to take with a woman who fucked me and left like a thief in the night.”

Her jaw drops. “It was morning when I left…okay?”

I shake my head. “The sun hadn’t even risen.”

“I didn’t think you’d care!”

“I don’t.” That’s a lie. Clearly, I do care. Otherwise, I wouldn’t still be thinking about her three months later. But I shouldn’t be.

“You’re acting like someone who cares,” she replies almost sheepishly. “I want my clothes back, by the way. I love that top.”

I bark out an unamused laugh. “That’s rich.”

“What did you even do with them? You’re not some kind of creep, are you?”

I blink back at her, stunned, pissed, and surprisingly, a little fucking hurt. “If a creep washes and dries your clothes—then sure, Lynsey, I’m a creep.”

She scowls. “When would you have had time to wash my clothes?”

I lean in and hit her with a glower. “I put your clothes in the washer when I went out for my four a.m. run. Then I put them in the dryer before I hopped in the shower to get ready for work—all facts you could have known, if you wouldn’t have been a coward.”

She pauses, watching me nervously for a moment as though she doesn’t believe the words I’m saying. The moment is thwarted when the nurse opens the slider into the room. “Her blood work is back, Dr. Richardson.”

She passes the paper to me and rushes out of the room.

I do a quick read through. “Everything looks normal. I’ll get your pain…”

My voice trails off as my eyes zero in on a blood test that’s a standard test we do on many of our patients who come into the ER. The results are…surprising. No. They’re damn right maddening.

My entire body tenses as my blood pressure spikes. The visceral reaction I’m having to these results are more surprising than the results themselves.

It takes all of my strength to shove my overly-emotional response to a different vortex of my brain. A place that I became very familiar with in my previous medical position.

My jaw is tight as I grind out, “I’m sorry, but I’ve just discovered you’re pregnant—a fact that would have been useful for you to tell me when we were discussing pain medication.”

“You are such a dick,” she huffs as if I’ve just made some seriously horrible joke.

I glance up from the chart and frown at her, trying to get a read on her reaction because it is messed up.

“It’s not wise to lie to your doctor, Lynsey,” I say through clenched teeth.

“What the hell are you talking about?” she hisses, her eyes narrowing on me.

My nose wrinkles. “Are you actually trying to act like you’re unaware of this?”

Her face contorts with disgust. “What the hell is your problem? Look, I’m sorry I ditched you without saying goodbye or whatever, but this is a sick payback, even for you. Is your ego really that precious?”

“I’m not trying to pay you back right now,” I growl, stepping closer, my jaw dropping when her face shifts from pissy to absolutely terrified.

Does she really not know?

She shifts uncomfortably in the bed, her nervous eyes darting all over the room. “Look, I get the whole Dr. Dick thing is your schtick, and it probably does help you get laid because…well, it worked for me. But seriously, can you at least try to be professional right now?”

“I’m serious, Lynsey. You’re pregnant.” I note the test value, my heart rate increasing when I add, “You’re pretty far along based on your quantitative HCG number.”

“What the fuck is a quantitative HCG number?” she bellows, sitting up to look at me with horror on her face. “Tell me plainly, Josh…am I pregnant?”