Just One of the Guys(81)

“One-sixty-three over ninety,” I say.

“And his temperature?”

“Um…I didn’t take that,” I answer.

“Why?”

“Because you didn’t tell me to?” I suggest.

She sighs. “Oh, this is such a waste of time.” She bustles to the cabinet, whips out one of those little paper strips that pass as thermometers and sticks it under Jeff’s tongue. I notice that he doesn’t flirt with her. Instead, he makes a pained face and looks at me for sympathy. Then Gabby takes his blood pressure. “One-sixty-two over ninety-one,” she announces. Rather brusquely, she whips off the ice pack and looks at Jeff’s arm. It’s swollen and clearly deformed, an odd lump sticking up between his wrist and elbow. My mouth goes instantly dry, my legs are tapioca, my vision starts that graying thing it does so well.

If I faint now, I’m done. I’ll fail my class. I swallow, take a small step back and hit something solid. Trevor.

“Hang in there, Chas.” His voice is so low that I can barely hear it, but there’s warmth there, and reassurance. He knows. He thinks I can make it. I take a deep breath and stand a little straighter.

“Fuck me, woman!” Jeff yelps. I blink. Gabrielle is feeling his arm, not tenderly, then slaps the ice pack back on.

“Broken!” she crows. “I’ll schedule an X-ray.” With that, she leaves a considerably grayer Jeff lying on the bed.

“You okay, Jeff?” I ask, feeling less than well myself.

“Yeah,” he says. “Show me a little cle**age and I’ll be as good as new.”

I pat his leg instead.

“Higher, please,” he says with a wink.

“Jake, finish the report, okay?” Trevor asks.

“Sure,” Jake answers agreeably. “See you, Chastity.”

An orderly comes in and goes to the head of Jeff’s gurney. “How’d you like to take a ride, my friend?” he asks.

“Thanks for everything, sweetheart,” Jeff calls as he’s wheeled away.

“It was nothing,” I answer truthfully. But it feels good, anyway.

“So you’re taking the EMT class?” Trevor asks, adjusting something on his belt.

I look at him straight in the face for the first time today. His hair is rumpled, as ever, and eyes are smiling a little.

“Yes,” I answer quietly. “I’m trying to get the blood phobia under control.”

“How’s it going?”

I shrug. “Not too great. You can see that I almost passed out there.”

“A lot of people would have done the same, Chas.”

“Yes, my child, but not an O’Neill,” I say, heavy on the grandiosity.

“Not everyone is good at this kind of thing. Doesn’t mean you’re not…gifted…in other ways.” He smiles.

“Thanks. I think. Listen, Trev, I’d appreciate it if you and Jake didn’t say anything to the boys or my dad.”

“Sure,” he says. “Well, you know Jake’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, buddy.” I pause, then glance out to the nurse’s station. Gabrielle is busily writing something on a chart. “Trevor, are you and Hayden back together?”

Trev’s gaze drops to the floor. With every second that he doesn’t answer, my heart sinks lower. “We’re…we’re spending time together.”

“Cheesy answer,” I comment lightly.

He shrugs. “I don’t know, Chas. Sometimes…” He shakes his head. “I gotta run. Good luck here. You want me to put in a good word with Gabby?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll sink or swim on my own.”

To my surprise, he leans in and kisses my cheek. “You’ll swim. See you around.”

And then he’s gone. A nurse or tech of some kind leans out to check out his ass.

The rest of my day is uneventful. I take sixteen more blood pressures, eleven temperatures, apply ice to a swollen finger and watch as Gabrielle must cut off a wedding ring. I wheel four people in for X-rays and chat with a few not-too-sick people. When my shift is done, I find Gabrielle.

“I guess I’m done, Gabby,” I say.

“Fine! So? What’s keeping you?”

“Would you mind signing my form?”

“Fine, fine, fine. Like I don’t have a million other things to do.” She signs and hands it back to me.

“Does this mean I pass?” I ask.

“Yes! You passed. Okay? You didn’t screw up that badly, so congratulations. Now do you mind? I have work to do.”

“Thank you,” I say, my heart lifting. I passed!

I stop in the lobby and use an in-house phone to call the surgical floor, wanting to share my news with someone. “I’m sorry, Dr. Darling is in surgery,” says the person who answers.

“No problem,” I say.

“Are you a patient or a family member?” she asks.

“Nope,” I answer. “I’m his girlfriend.”

“Really?” she says. “I wasn’t aware that he had one. Well, good luck to you, hon.” And she hangs up.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“WHERE’S LUCIA?” ANGELA ASKS. “I didn’t think cyborgs missed work.”