Hayden rummaged through the medical bag for gauze. As she unraveled the stretchy material, she glanced up at her patient perched on the bar counter. “And that’s when you lost the fight with the glass?”
Muffled voices of patrons drifted around her, along with the aromas of barbeque and beer. Although the last drink would have been filled more than thirty minutes ago a corner table was polishing off spicy chicken wings and a guy at the counter slapped his friend on the back with enough force to spill his tumbler.
“Fortunately, no. The glass was still one piece at that point.” Jake flexed his fingers. A bit of pink spread under the white material she bound around his thumb. “Wasn’t until I started to consider splicing genes from a Burmese python when I tripped.”
Cinching the free end at the wrist, she released his hand to fold a napkin over the slivers of glass and signaled the bartender to dispose of it carefully. So now he’s getting his inspiration from Jurassic Park. Wonders never cease.
“Probably should have tossed the cup out of the way, but no. I let it crash to the ground right under me before I caught myself. That’s when I sliced my hand.”
“Better than your face.” She slid off the stool to give him room to maneuver off the counter. There was only one person who could get her out of bed at three in the morning when she had a full day at the emergency room ahead of her. “Wouldn’t want a scar on that adorable cleft chin when you’re presented with the key to the neurosurgical department.”
“I s‘pose.”
Peering at him now, his broad shoulders hunched low and dark curls drooping into his pine-green eyes, she wanted to do more than stitch up his hand. The citrusy scent of orange juice wafted over her, probably from the stain on his shirt. Never mind she had bought him a carton to keep at home during his bouts of inspiration. She reached out to touch his cheek.
His somber gaze locked on hers. Her chest tightened. She’d do anything to erase that frown of frustration. Smooth away any doubt that a cure wouldn’t be realized. She traced the groove under his bottom lip with her fingertip.
A twinkle lit up his eyes. “Hayden…”
“No.” She jerked her hand away but not before pinching his chin. Hard. “I’m not taking you to the lab. You need sleep.”
Planting both hands on the edge of the counter, her boyfriend lowered a prosthetic leg to the floor followed by the second one. “The polymer should be fully synthesized by now.”
“Hello, you’re going on a total of zero hours right now.”
He set his jaw.
The spinal disease would have bound Jake to a wheelchair if he hadn’t thrust himself into research. Not even losing his legs during an agonizing experiment gone wrong slowed his race toward a cure. So, why had she expected shattered glass to be a deterrence? If anything, the cut on his hand had probably been more motivation.
Her sigh grated against the walls of her chest. “First, breakfast—”
“Already filled up.” Jake lifted his bandaged hand to the bartender. “Thanks for the OJ, man. Catch ya later.”
Without a backward glance, he seized her medical bag and hobbled toward the door only to struggle to get a grip on the handle. Hayden rolled her eyes. And colleagues wondered why she opted for emergency medicine during residency.
*** *** ***
Dear Reader,
Thanks for reading Hayden and Jake’s sweet romance! This story was a submission to a short-story writing contest, Writing Battle. The genre was “Medical Drama,” the location was “pub,” and the main character had to be a “visionary” 😊 I hope you enjoyed this little tale!
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