Page 122 of Curvy Girl Summer

Taking in a sharp breath, I took a step back.

His touch ignited my body, and electricity coursed through me.

“I-I’m-I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I shouldn’t have come. I should go.”

“No, don’t… don’t be sorry.”

“Ahmad Williamson?” a nurse called out from behind a set of double doors.

Breaking eye contact, he shifted his attention away from me, and I felt like I could breathe again.

“Go, go,” I told him. “Take care of yourself. I shouldn’t—I should go.”

“Come back with me.”

My eyebrows flew up. “What?”

“Come on.”

“You want me to come? Why?” I whispered, unsure of what to do.

He twisted his lips and pointed to his arm. “Blood makes me squeamish, remember?”

Handing me his jacket, he started moving toward the waiting nurse. Without another word, I fell into step with him as we headed to the back.

Gripping the lightweight jacket, I quietly followed them to a small room with a curtain for a door. He sat on the bed in the middle of the room, and I immediately tucked myself into the farthest corner. As his vitals were taken, I tried to make myself as invisible as possible as he answered all her questions. I tried to make it seem like I wasn’t listening, but I was.

She was finishing the last question when the doctor walked in.

After a quick introduction and some pleasantries, Dr. Myers eyed the injury on his arm. “So, tell me a little about what happened, Mr. Williamson.”

“It was a car accident. I wasn’t driving. I was in the back of a rideshare. Someone hit us, less than a mile from here, and I got cut with a piece of metal. The driver”—he shook his head—“man, he looked pretty bad. I just had this little opening on my arm, and once I got bandaged up, I didn’t think it was that serious.” He gestured to his arm. “But after the paramedics left, I was waiting for my sister to come and get me and I realized my arm might’ve been worse than we thought. So I told her to just head to work because I was heading here.”

“How did you get here?” the doctor wondered.

“I walked.”

I put my hand to my mouth and sadness tugged at me. The thought of him walking down the street, basically bleeding out, because he didn’t drive was heartbreaking to me.

“I can’t believe you walked,” I said quietly.

“It wasn’t that far from here,” he explained. “I didn’t want to get blood all over someone’s car and it was only a few blocks.”

“Okay, let’s see what’s going on. We want to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” The doctor peeled back the bandage on Ahmad’s right arm, and blood gushed. “Oh! Okay!” He added gauze and quickly reattached the bandage. The nurse cleaned the blood that dribbled toward his elbow. “You are certainly going to need sutures. I need to get a couple of things to get started. Change into this gown forme, and we’ll get you patched up. Then we’ll get some blood and run some labs to make sure you’re not infected. We’ll also get you a tetanus booster shot. I’ll be back.”

As soon as they left, Ahmad turned to look at me. “Wow.”

“Worried about the blood work?” I guessed.

He made a face. “I can show you the paperwork from my physical a couple weeks ago. I have a clean bill of health.”

“I meant because of the fact that some random dirty metal pierced your skin.”

“Ohhh!” He let out a light chuckle. “I’m trippin’.”

I cocked my head to the side. “What did you think I was talking about?”

I knew full well what he was talking about, but I wanted him to say it.

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