He was fine. This was stupid.
"Your doc is hot," Barrett said. "Are you dating her?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because . . . I don't know. It's complicated."
Grant stood, stretched, then leaned his back against the wall. "How is it complicated? Did you ask her out?"
"Sort of."
His lips ticked up. "So, she turned you down?"
"I'm disappointed in your lack of game, Bro," Barrett said. "Maybe I should give it a try."
This was making his headache worse. "Give it your best shot. I'm going to take a nap."
"I don't think so. Doc said no naps for you," Grant said. He grabbed the TV remote. "Let's find the sports channel on this TV and see if we can find some shitty baseball game while we wait for them to grab you for your tests."
He should have stayed home today. Then he could be sitting on his sofa watching TV--without his brothers, and without a goddamn headache.
But on the up side, at least he was seeing Aubry today, though not the way he'd wanted to.
AFTER RETRIEVING THE PRELIMINARY RESULTS FROM Tucker's X-rays and CT scan, she reviewed them and made her way back to his exam room. It was quiet in the ER tonight and nothing epic was going on. For that she was grateful.
She opened the door to find all of them watching a baseball game on TV.
They all stared at her. She saw genuine concern in the eyes of Tucker's brothers. It warmed her.
"You have a concussion, Tucker. Your X-rays and CT scan are clear, though."
"Good to know. Can I have some aspirin, now?"
She nodded. "Of course. I'll make sure they give you some before you leave. They'll also print out some post-release instructions for you. I'd really like to not see you back here again, Tucker."
He gave her a look. "I didn't do this on purpose. This was totally Grant's fault."
"Hey. How was it my fault? You're the one who didn't pay attention and fell over the big-ass rocks that, by the way, anyone with two eyes could see. You should have been able to spot that pile even without your glasses on."
She looked at Barrett, who nodded and said, "This is true. Big-ass rocks."
She shook her head. "Either way, this is three times now that I've had to treat you."
Grant frowned. "Three times? You were here another time besides the stitches?"
Tucker scratched the side of his nose. "No. Just that one time."
Aubry realized as soon as she'd said it, then saw the pleading look in Tucker's eyes and knew he really didn't want his brothers to know about that event that occurred in the wine cellar of her father's house. She couldn't blame him for that.
"My mistake. Twice. I'll get your discharge on file and the nurse will provide you with instructions."
"Hey . . . Aubry . . ."
She stopped. "Yes?"
He gave a look to his brothers.
"Uh, I'd really like some coffee," Grant said.
"Not me. I'm good right here."
Shaking his head, Grant grabbed Barrett by his shirt. "Coffee, Barrett. Now."
"I miss all the juicy stuff."
"Thanks for everything, Doc," Grant said as they left the room.
"You're welcome."
They closed the door, leaving Aubry alone with Tucker.
"Is there something you want to discuss?"
"Yeah. First, thanks for not mentioning the first time we met."
She laid the chart on the table next to his bed. "I can understand you not wanting your brothers to know about that. Besides, I promised you I wouldn't ever tell anyone about that. I'm sorry for the slip."
"Not a problem. It's just that . . . you don't have any brothers or sisters, do you?"
"No. But I still understand. It wasn't your finest moment. If they knew, they'd never let you live it down."
"Understatement."
She paused, waiting, wishing she could make him feel better. She knew his head was fuzzy and likely hurting--bad. "Is there anything else? You really should get some rest."
He looked up at her. "Yeah. There is something else. Can I get your phone number? I'd like to not come here again as a way to see you."
She laughed. "I think we went through this before. There are so many reasons why the two of us shouldn't see each other--either professionally or personally. One, because you have to stop getting hurt. Two, because I lead a very busy life."
"So do I. Which doesn't mean you never have any downtime. You should get out and have some fun. You are allowed to do that, aren't you?"
"On occasion. But not often."
"So on the 'occasion' that we both have, I'd like to take you out. At least to thank you for being so concerned about the well-being of my testicles."
"I don't think I've ever been asked out quite that way before."
He grinned. "I'm nothing if not unique, Doc. So is that a yes?" He pulled out his phone.
She sighed. "I have a terrible feeling if I say no that you're going to end up in my ER again."
"I'll take a pity yes for now. And then I'll convince you I'm worth it."
She gave him her number and he entered it in his phone. Then he gave her his number. "So you don't think I'm some random spammer when I call you."
"Okay. Now that we've done that, I need to explain your aftercare, which I want you to take seriously."
She told him everything he needed to know about his concussion. "We'll get you a printout before you leave."
"I'm due to pitch in three days, Doc."
"You need to take that up with your team physician. I'd like him to examine you and he can assess your readiness to pitch. You might have to sit out a game."
He heaved a big sigh. "That's not what I want to hear."
"I'm sorry, but the last thing you need is to get dizzy and drop to the ground while you're on the mound. Your health is the most important thing."
He looked down at the paper she gave him. She knew he was disappointed, so she reached down and grasped his wrist.
"Plus, it looks bad on TV."
He laughed and looked up at her. "Yeah. I get it. I'll talk to Phil and make sure he knows what went down."
"Make sure that you do, because I'll be talking to him as well."
"Damn. Okay."
She started to pull away, but he grasped her hand.
"Aubry."
"Yes?"
"Thanks. I'm glad you were here tonight. It was good to see you again."
A flood of warmth enveloped her. There was something about this man that called to her, that made her feel things she had no right to feel about anyone. Not right now, not when her work was so critical. Distractions could be bad.
And a baseball player, of all things . . .
"I'm glad I was here to help you."
"I'm not talking about the medical stuff, though you do make me feel better. You make me feel . . . a lot of things."
She shuddered in a breath when he tugged on her hand, drawing her closer.
This was all kinds of wrong, but as she leaned over him, she couldn't resist the pull of attraction. And when he cupped the back of her neck, she wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on hers.
Until the door opened. She pulled back so fast she nearly lost her balance.
"So what did we miss?" Barrett asked, holding a cup of coffee in his hand as he rounded the end of the bed. "Anything good?"
Tucker glared at his brother. "No."
"Anyway, I'll be sure you get that list of discharge instructions, Tucker," she said, trying to gather her wits about her and remember the real reason she was in his room. And it wasn't to kiss him.
She turned to his brothers. "You'll need to read those instructions as well. I wouldn't recommend he be alone tonight."
"I'm staying at his place for a few days," Barrett said. "He won't be alone."
She nodded. "Good. If you'll excuse me, I need to see to other patients."
"Thanks, Doc," Tucker said, giving her a look she reco
gnized as regret.
"You're welcome."
She hurried out of there, hoping her face didn't appear as flaming hot from the embarrassment she felt at almost being caught kissing a patient.
Could she have acted more unprofessional? What was wrong with her, anyway? She'd been laser focused on her work since the moment she'd entered college for her undergraduate degree. Other than a short, ill-fated romance in medical school that hadn't occupied a lot of her time, there'd been nothing and no one to distract her.
Until now. And in a couple short weeks, Tucker Cassidy had completely turned her world upside down.
She was determined to turn him down when he called her for a date. There was no way she'd allow him to disrupt her carefully planned life.
She went to the station and gave the nurse discharge instructions, then took a breath.
"Heard you treated Tucker Cassidy again."
It figured Katie would be hovering nearby.
"I did. He presented with concussion symptoms. X-ray and CT scan results were negative, fortunately."
"Did he get hit with a baseball?"
"No. Playing football with his brothers. He tripped over some rocks."
"I see." Katie was entering her notes into one of the laptops and didn't look up. "He probably did it on purpose so he could come and see you again."
She turned and leaned against the station. "He did not. He'll likely miss his next pitching spot, so why would he intentionally hurt himself?"
Katie looked up from her notes, shoving a thick auburn curl behind her ear. "I was kidding. And you're being sensitive about it. What's up with that?"
She looked around. Marie was on break and everyone else was on the other side of the station. "I almost kissed him. In the exam room."
"Scandalous. And juicy. So why didn't you?"
"His brothers walked in. Otherwise, I probably would have. Which is so inappropriate."
"But probably would have been incredibly hot, right?"
She was trying not to think about the hotness of the situation. Or the regret, both positive and negative. "No. Not hot. Inappropriate, Katie."
"I don't know. He's a stud. You should have sex with him."
"And you are not helping."
"Actually, I am helping. You're wound up all the time, and you haven't gotten laid in ages. You're always so all about medicine, and not about having fun. You need to have some fun, Aubry."
She pushed off the station. "I'm not talking about this."
But Katie followed. "Seriously, Bree. When was the last time you had some incredible, mind-blowing, curl-your-toes sex?"
She gave herself a few seconds to think about it, then realized she couldn't pinpoint the last time, which meant it had been too long. "I don't remember."
"Aha. Did he ask you out again?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"He's got my number. He's going to call me. I'm going to say no."
She started moving, but Katie stopped her. "Now you're just being ridiculous."
"No, I'm being smart. Work has to take precedence. My residency is important to me. Plus, he's a jock, and you know how I feel about that."
"So, fuck him and don't think about his occupation. Then you'll feel better and he probably doesn't want a girlfriend anyway. Not after what the last one did to him."
Katie had a point. After his ex-girlfriend kneed him in the testicles, the last thing Tucker probably wanted was a girlfriend. And she wasn't looking for a boyfriend.
So what was the harm in some . . . harmless sex?
"Dr. Ross. Dr. Murphy."
She turned in the hallway to face Dr. Kenneth Chen, the attending physician in charge of emergency medicine.
Their boss.
"Hello, Dr. Chen," Katie said, always unaffected by Dr. Chen, whereas for some reason he made Aubry a nervous wreck.
"We seem to have patients in this emergency room, yet the two of you are . . . doing what, exactly? Gossiping?"
"Actually, Dr. Chen, I was consulting with Dr. Ross about my diabetic patient in room six. Now that I've finished my consult, I'm about to head back."
Dr. Chen nodded. "Carry on then, Dr. Murphy."
Katie winked at her and headed off in the opposite direction.
"I noticed you treated Tucker Cassidy, Dr. Ross."
Leave it to Dr. Chen to be on top of everything going on in his ER. "Yes, sir."
"There's no game today, so I assume it wasn't a work-related injury."
"No, Dr. Chen. He was playing football with his brothers and tripped over some rocks."
"I assume you intend to follow up on his care, as well as report it to the team?"
"I do indeed. I'll make a report to the team physician in the morning."
"Make sure that you do. Our relationship with the Rivers is important to this hospital. They send all their injuries to us. We want to insure there's follow-up."
"There will be."
"Is Mr. Cassidy still here?"
"I just left him a short while ago. Amy should be giving him discharge instructions."
"I think I'll stop in and see how he's doing. You can go about your business with your other patients."
"Yes, sir."
She couldn't get away from him fast enough. Dr. Chen was brilliant in the ER, and she'd learned a lot in the past few years working under him. But damn if he wasn't intimidating as hell. The man didn't have a warm bone in his body. She always felt under the microscope whenever he directed his scrutiny toward her, as if she somehow didn't measure up.
She knew it was just her own mind conjuring up something that wasn't there. Her evaluations had always been decent, and she'd never had a complaint about her performance. But she also put high standards on herself. And feedback was so important to her, so she'd know whether she was on the right track.
Just once, she'd like Dr. Chen to tell her she'd done a good job. That wasn't in his nature, though. If he wasn't screaming at you that you were an incompetent moron, then you were supposed to assume you were doing a good job.
She'd be glad when her residency was over and she would no longer be under his thumb.
She was a damn good doctor.
And getting distracted by Tucker Cassidy wasn't going to help her become a better one.
TUCKER SAT IN A MEETING WITH PHIL, THE TEAM DOCTOR, and Manny Magee, his coach.
"Is this going to become a regular thing, Cassidy?"
The last thing Tucker wanted right now was to be the recipient of one of Manny's signature glares. You didn't want Manny glaring at you. Really, you didn't want Manny paying the slightest bit of attention to you. Manny ignoring you was a good thing. You'd rather him yell at someone else.
"No, Manny, it isn't."
"So how come you've been to the ER twice in less than two weeks?"
Tucker slid his fingers through his hair. "Just a fluke."
"You lost a spot in the rotation. That fucks up my schedule, which doesn't make me happy."
And you definitely didn't want to make Manny unhappy. "It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't." Manny turned to Phil. "He ready to pitch now?"
Phil nodded. "He's been checked out and he's cleared."
"Good. Then we won't have to sit around and have any more of these fireside chats, right?" Manny asked him.
"No."
Manny stood. "Get your ass out there and throw some pitches. Try not to fall off the mound when you do."
Tucker prided himself on doing his job. In fact, he was damn good at it. Distractions never bothered him, whether it was fans booing him during an out-of-town game, or a field full of swarming bugs in late summer. Whatever it was, he could handle it.
He had no idea what the hell had been going on with him lately, but whatever it was, it was over now. He'd make sure of it.
He took to the field for some warm-up pitches, ignoring the athletic trainers who kept a close eye on him.
Fall off the mound. Fuck that. He'd been born to
stand on this mound and throw pitches.
He started slow, since Phil and the trainers hadn't allowed him to pitch in over a week. He'd been forced to sit in the bullpen and watch someone else take his spot in the rotation. He'd chewed through about six bags of sunflower seeds, his irritation spiking with every pitch he hadn't been able to throw.
Even worse, they'd lost the game he should have been pitching.
Now, though, he was getting his groove back--especially his curveball. With every pitch he threw, he felt more and more like himself again. And when he finished his warm-up set and walked off the mound, he felt like no time had passed, as if he could pitch an entire game right now and strike out twenty-seven batters in a row.
He wished he could pitch a game right now, instead of two days from now when it was his turn in the rotation again. He was itching to prove to his coaches and the medical team that there wasn't a damn thing wrong with him.
In the meantime, though, he wanted to get in touch with Aubry. He'd put it off long enough, and these injuries had gotten in the way.
He wanted to see her if she had time, and since they were playing a day game today, he had a night off. Which meant they might be able to get together tonight.
The only way he was going to find out was to ask, so he pulled out his phone and dialed her number, which, after a few rings, went to voice mail.
Okay, so she was probably working. That made sense. He decided to text her instead.
I'm off tonight. Are you free? If so, how about dinner?
He waited a few minutes and didn't get an answer, so he shoved his phone in his bag and decided to check it later.
"Later" ended up being after his game that afternoon. Garrett Scott pitched a great game, allowing only one run, and the offense helped out by scoring four. It felt good to get a win, even if he didn't get a chance to help out. The team was what mattered.
He checked his phone and found a return text from Aubry.
Not sure you and I seeing each other is a good idea.
His lips curved. At least it wasn't an outright no.
He typed a return text to her.
Are you working tonight?
This time, she replied right away. I worked earlier. I'm off tonight.
He pressed the call button, and she answered.
"Hi, Tucker."
"Hey. So they occasionally give you days off, huh?"
"Shockingly, yes. And you as well?"