Page 3 of Reluctant Chemistry

At the junction with the coastal highway, he pulled over and turned to look at her. She stiffened and inhaled deeply, struggling to control her racing heartbeat.

“I’ll just call you in.” He grabbed his phone from the center console and unlocked it.

Who was he calling?

“Hi. You on duty? Okay, I have a patient for you.” Luka listened. Chuckled. He had an unusual accent, like a universal melting pot with a distinct British undertone. “Yeah, that’s good. We’ll be there in ten.” Pause. “Ankle sprain of the rabbit-hole variety.”

After one final chuckle, Luka ended the call and looked back at her. “You’re in luck. That was Drew, a friend of mine. They’re having a quiet night at the hospital.” He motioned to her phone, still clenched in her hand. “We have service now if you want to contact your boyfriend.”

She checked it for missed calls or messages. Nothing. “I’m good.”

He held her gaze and tilted his head to the side, and as a faint smile lit up his face, she leaned back and closed her eyes.

* * *

Under the harsh lights of the emergency department, Luka looked different. Taller, broader, and much younger than she first thought, with the most intriguing moody brown eyes.

Forms filled in, they sat in the waiting room, CeCe in a wheelchair and Luka beside her. His sight on his phone screen and one hand to his forehead, he scrolled through some app.

Silence stretched between them. She went to speak but didn’t know what to say, so she looked around the room, reading posters for flu jabs and hand-washing guides.

“You don’t have to stay.” CeCe briefly glanced his way, then back to the posters, struggling to keep her hands still in her lap.

He looked up. “It’s fine. I’ll wait and give you a ride home.”

“Thanks, but I live miles away. I can call my brother.”

Luka brushed aside her concerns with a gesture. “Well, I’ll stay a bit longer. What were you doing out there all alone, anyway?”

“I’d been to a party. It got boring, so I decided to walk home.”

“And the boyfriend?”

She folded her arms across her chest, cringing at the memory of Travis, drunk and inappropriate as he’d stared at her over the shoulder of some scantily clad girl in his arms, and mouthed, ‘Call me.’

A doctor entered the waiting room and motioned to Luka, who stood and pushed CeCe down the corridor to the treatment area. After the introductions, the two men exchanged pleasantries for a moment before Luka excused himself with a brief goodbye.

While she hadn’t wanted or expected him to stay, the overwhelming sense of loss when he left surprised her. She’d not forget the kindness of her knight in tight jeans and Henley stretched across broad shoulders.

Dr. Drewchecked the form. “Right, CeCe, let’s see what we’re dealing with, shall we? I just need you to transfer from the chair to the bed.”

By the time she returned to the waiting room, bandaged but not broken, Luka had left. CeCe longed to do the same—go home. She didn’t want to stay in town at Molly’s as planned. She wanted to wake up in her ownbed tomorrow morning and eat oatmeal with blueberries. Wanted to have her mum ask about her night and her father disapprove of her choices. She wanted to relax in their care.

With Molly not answering her phone, CeCe flicked her a short text, saying she was going home. Next, she pulled up the contact details for her brother, Mitch, and hit the call button.

“Hey, it’s CeCe. Are you still in town?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I’m at the hospital, with a sprained ankle. Can you pick me up?”

“Shit. Are you okay?” The background noise of a rowdy bar competed with her brother’s reply.

“A bit sore, but I’m fine. Are you sober enough to drive?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll be there soon.”

* * *

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