“Great.”
“You and Green had a hell of a run-in there at first base. How do you feel?”
“I feel fine.”
“You guys always say that.”
They did. No one wanted to miss any games.
“I’m going to send you over to the ER for them to do a thorough exam.”
Tucker sat upright. “I don’t need to go to the ER.”
But Phil had already written on the chart. “I’ll give them a heads-up and let them know you’re on your way over. I’ll put a bandage on your leg. The docs there can stitch you up. I’m a little worried about your knee.”
Tucker frowned. “My knee? My knee is fine.”
“Again. All you guys say that. And I saw the way you landed, then limped.”
“Of course, I limped. My leg got stomped on. Come on, Phil, the game’s still on.”
Phil tore the form off his clipboard and handed it to him. “Off to the ER, Tucker. Your ride will be waiting for you outside.”
He took the sheet from Phil and climbed back into his pants, grumbling under his breath.
He should still be out on the mound, not headed to the ER.
He was fine. Fucking fine.
And that game had been his to finish.
ONE WOULD THINK ON A WEDNESDAY NIGHT THAT THE ER would be slow.
But not tonight. So far Aubry had covered an eight-year-old’s asthma attack, a suspected myocardial infarction, an automobile accident with a non-trauma injury and a drunk who’d started his happy hour very early in the day, then had spent the past three hours vomiting. Nonstop.
Typically a lot of these cases were saved for weekends.
Maybe it was a full moon or something. Either way, she’d been busy.
She liked busy. Her shift went fast when she stayed moving. The only problem was she ended up working late updating her charts.
“Dr. Ross? There’s a new patient in room seven,” the intake clerk told her as she stood at the counter trying to stay ahead of said charts.
Aubry reviewed the labs on the cardiac patient, ordered new drugs, then signed off and had a short conversation with the shift nurse about the patient’s care before turning to the intake clerk. “What’s the deal with the new patient?”
“Baseball player from the Rivers. He was injured during the game.”
She nodded. “Heading there right now.”
She grabbed the patient’s chart and flipped through it on her way down the hall. When she scanned the name, she stalled for a second, then shook her head and resumed her walk to the examination room.
Unbelievable.
She opened the door to find Tucker Cassidy, still in uniform, sitting on the exam room table.
He was frowning, looking down at the floor. When he looked up, he smiled.
“Oh. Hey, Doc. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
She laid the chart down on the table and grabbed exam gloves. “I don’t suppose the injury is to your groin.”
He laughed. “Not this time. I took a cleat to the calf at first base.”
“I hate to be repetitious each time we see each other, but you’re going to need to drop your pants.”
He slid off the table and unbuttoned his pants. “This is getting to be a regular thing with us, Doc. I’m thinking you just want to get to the goods.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m afraid I won’t be touching your penis or your testicles tonight.”
“Too bad.” He laid his torn, bloody pants on the table, then climbed on the table and lay on his stomach.
She removed the bandage the team doctor had applied. “Nice.”
“Thanks. I try not to half-ass anything I do.”
“Apparently. This will need several stitches.”
“That’s what Phil said. I don’t know why he couldn’t just stitch me up in the locker room.”
“According to the notes he e-mailed over, he wanted to make sure your leg is sound and there are no other injuries, especially to your knee. Or to your head, since it appears you collided with the other player. Once I stitch this up, I’ll do a more thorough examination.”
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Which probably means you’ll want me naked.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his sense of humor. “You’d like to think that, but I don’t believe your full nudity will be necessary.”
“Come on, Doc. I’m already pissed about not finishing the game. At least make the ER experience a fun one.”
“I don’t think this is the place you come to for a fun time, Tucker.” She got out the suturing kit and scooted the stool across toward the table. “You’ll need to lie still now while I clean and numb the area.”
At least he was a good patient. He didn’t complain and didn’t move, allowing her to clean and suture the wound quickly. It took twelve stitches, but he was muscular and in good shape, so the injury shouldn’t cause him much discomfort.
After she finished, she examined the rest of his leg. There were no other scrapes or scratches, and other than slight swelling around the wound area, she saw no further injuries to the back of his leg.
“You can roll over now.”
He did, and she examined his knee, which was the area Phil was most concerned about.
“How does your knee feel?” she asked.
“It’s fine. Same thing I told Phil.”
She examined his knee. He had full range of motion without pain. She saw no redness or swelling.
“You and Green had a hell of a run-in there at first base. How do you feel?”
“I feel fine.”
“You guys always say that.”
They did. No one wanted to miss any games.
“I’m going to send you over to the ER for them to do a thorough exam.”
Tucker sat upright. “I don’t need to go to the ER.”
But Phil had already written on the chart. “I’ll give them a heads-up and let them know you’re on your way over. I’ll put a bandage on your leg. The docs there can stitch you up. I’m a little worried about your knee.”
Tucker frowned. “My knee? My knee is fine.”
“Again. All you guys say that. And I saw the way you landed, then limped.”
“Of course, I limped. My leg got stomped on. Come on, Phil, the game’s still on.”
Phil tore the form off his clipboard and handed it to him. “Off to the ER, Tucker. Your ride will be waiting for you outside.”
He took the sheet from Phil and climbed back into his pants, grumbling under his breath.
He should still be out on the mound, not headed to the ER.
He was fine. Fucking fine.
And that game had been his to finish.
ONE WOULD THINK ON A WEDNESDAY NIGHT THAT THE ER would be slow.
But not tonight. So far Aubry had covered an eight-year-old’s asthma attack, a suspected myocardial infarction, an automobile accident with a non-trauma injury and a drunk who’d started his happy hour very early in the day, then had spent the past three hours vomiting. Nonstop.
Typically a lot of these cases were saved for weekends.
Maybe it was a full moon or something. Either way, she’d been busy.
She liked busy. Her shift went fast when she stayed moving. The only problem was she ended up working late updating her charts.
“Dr. Ross? There’s a new patient in room seven,” the intake clerk told her as she stood at the counter trying to stay ahead of said charts.
Aubry reviewed the labs on the cardiac patient, ordered new drugs, then signed off and had a short conversation with the shift nurse about the patient’s care before turning to the intake clerk. “What’s the deal with the new patient?”
“Baseball player from the Rivers. He was injured during the game.”
She nodded. “Heading there right now.”
She grabbed the patient’s chart and flipped through it on her way down the hall. When she scanned the name, she stalled for a second, then shook her head and resumed her walk to the examination room.
Unbelievable.
She opened the door to find Tucker Cassidy, still in uniform, sitting on the exam room table.
He was frowning, looking down at the floor. When he looked up, he smiled.
“Oh. Hey, Doc. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
She laid the chart down on the table and grabbed exam gloves. “I don’t suppose the injury is to your groin.”
He laughed. “Not this time. I took a cleat to the calf at first base.”
“I hate to be repetitious each time we see each other, but you’re going to need to drop your pants.”
He slid off the table and unbuttoned his pants. “This is getting to be a regular thing with us, Doc. I’m thinking you just want to get to the goods.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m afraid I won’t be touching your penis or your testicles tonight.”
“Too bad.” He laid his torn, bloody pants on the table, then climbed on the table and lay on his stomach.
She removed the bandage the team doctor had applied. “Nice.”
“Thanks. I try not to half-ass anything I do.”
“Apparently. This will need several stitches.”
“That’s what Phil said. I don’t know why he couldn’t just stitch me up in the locker room.”
“According to the notes he e-mailed over, he wanted to make sure your leg is sound and there are no other injuries, especially to your knee. Or to your head, since it appears you collided with the other player. Once I stitch this up, I’ll do a more thorough examination.”
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Which probably means you’ll want me naked.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his sense of humor. “You’d like to think that, but I don’t believe your full nudity will be necessary.”
“Come on, Doc. I’m already pissed about not finishing the game. At least make the ER experience a fun one.”
“I don’t think this is the place you come to for a fun time, Tucker.” She got out the suturing kit and scooted the stool across toward the table. “You’ll need to lie still now while I clean and numb the area.”
At least he was a good patient. He didn’t complain and didn’t move, allowing her to clean and suture the wound quickly. It took twelve stitches, but he was muscular and in good shape, so the injury shouldn’t cause him much discomfort.
After she finished, she examined the rest of his leg. There were no other scrapes or scratches, and other than slight swelling around the wound area, she saw no further injuries to the back of his leg.
“You can roll over now.”
He did, and she examined his knee, which was the area Phil was most concerned about.
“How does your knee feel?” she asked.
“It’s fine. Same thing I told Phil.”
She examined his knee. He had full range of motion without pain. She saw no redness or swelling.
