Whatever I’m feeling…it will fade too. I’ll wake up in the morning with a clear head and these lingering feelings for Dean will be gone, and I’ll realize last night was just about the sex and nothing more.
Guys like Dean are good for one thing and one thing only: breaking hearts. I won’t let myself make that mistake.“How was the date?” Hilary pulls her sweatshirt over her head. “With Dr. Jones’s friend, I mean.”
My back is turned as I shove my clothes into the locker, buying myself some time. Do I tell her the whole truth? Or just say that Dean was great but a total playboy and I won’t be seeing him again? I did go out with Dean, just not the way she thinks I did.
“It was okay,” I reply, pulling my tank top down and shivering. We’re going right into the OR and have to change into our surgical scrubs. “Dean wasn’t as bad as you made him seem.”
“Yes, Dean, that’s his name.” She smacks her forehead and laughs. “I’m so forgetful. But just okay?”
“I had a great time, actually, and the sex was amazing.”
She wiggles her eyebrows. “Ohhhh, get it girl.”
I laugh. “It was a one-time thing, though. He’s, uh, not looking to date anyone.”
“Huh. I wonder why Dr. Jones would set him up with someone.”
“I get the feeling it was his wife’s idea. Dean is her brother.”
“Oh, wow. That’s a tangled mess I’m glad I avoided.”
I shut my locker and walk over to grab clean scrubs. “It’s interesting, that’s for sure. It might be a little weird looking Dr. Jones in the eye,” I say, not needing to go into detail. “I mean, he knows I hooked up with his friend.”
Hilary shrugs. “We got two gall bladder removals back to back. We’ll be too busy for you to feel weird.”
“I always feel weird.”
Hilary laughs. “But that’s part of your appeal, you know that, right?”
“I do.” I pull a scrub top over my head and finish getting dressed. We walk into the hall right outside the OR, waiting for our morning meeting. It’s Thursday, and nearly a full day has come and gone since I’ve seen Dean.
I wish I could say the same about thinking of him.
It’s stupid, and I keep reminding myself that. I wasn’t drunk but was rather tipsy from the time he took me home to the time I woke up. That can make any situation seem better than it really is. “Beer Goggles” is a thing for a reason.
“Good morning,” Dr. Jones says, breezing down the hall. Act normal. I smile and bring my hand up to give a small wave but end up hitting myself in the face with my own fingers.
Dr. Jones catches my eye and smiles back, and I want to slink back into a corner. It would one thing if he knew Dean and I went home together, but knowing that I lied about who I was…
It’s not embarrassing, I tell myself. I’m a grown-ass woman and can do what I want, including pretending to be Blaire from Canada and sleeping with some hot guy from the bar.
We quickly go over what we have on the schedule for the day, and things are back to normal. We’re busy already today, and then get two emergencies come in, with the patients being rushed back into the OR. It’s hard to explain to others what being in the OR is like at times.
With a good surgeon—like Dr. Jones—usually the mood is light. We know what we’re doing and have years and years of experience between everyone on the team. One of the anesthesiologists we frequently work with is hilarious, and we’re often laughing and listening to music.
But the last emergency surgery is tense, with the victim being brought in after a car accident. Another surgeon is on her way in to assist, but we all know right away the chance of our patient making it is slim to none.
Hours later, the whole team is exhausted, and our patient is in recovery. Dr. Jones tells all of the nurses and surg techs to go take a break while he assesses the patient, trying to decide if she’s stable enough to be transferred to a trauma center in Chicago.
It’s a bit quiet in the break room, as we all sit around the table thinking about how easily life can be taken. The woman—a mother I’m guessing—was wearing an Eastwood High School spirit jersey. The basketball team is playing tonight. We pieced together that she must have been on her way to her son’s game.
“I am going to need a drink after this shift.” Hilary pulls her blonde hair out of a bun and rubs her scalp. “Anyone want to go to Getaway with me?”
“I’m in,” Thomas, one of the surg techs says. “I was going to watch my cousin play in the game, but I don’t want to see the kid who might lose his mother tonight, well, if he’s even there.”