Page 2 of Getting Off

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Dylan Pierce hated hospitals.He had zero patience for weakness in himself.When he fell down, he picked himself up off the ground, dusted his ass off, and tried again.

So being in the ER right now?Yeah, it was a real pain in his ass, even though the real ache was in his head.

Unfortunately for him, the rules at the Las Vegas Off-Road Racing Club required a medical professional to sign off on an exam form when you wrecked a vehicle.Not just your average off-road wreck either.The bad ones that ended with something broken and a trip to the ER for a brace or a cast or something dramatic.

That was why Dylan found himself in the little curtained cubicle in the North Las Vegas Medical Center ER.Sure, he’d hurt his wrist a little and maybe smacked his head a bit.Yeah, he had a headache, but he’d been wearing a helmet.He was sure he was fine.

He got up from the examination bed for what felt like the millionth time and went to the sink.He peered at himself in the warped mirror on the cabinet door.He was kind of a mess.But that wasn’t unusual.If he didn’t have a few scrapes and bruises, it meant he wasn’t trying hard enough.

Dylan’s six-foot frame was broad-shouldered and appeared even more so with his racing gear on.He’d shed his helmet at least.That was something.His boots were leaving dirt prints on the pristine white tile, and his face was smudged with dirt and engine grease.His brown hair looked a few shades darker, thanks to the sweat.Sweat and engine grease streaked his face and made him look like he was wearing some kind of makeup.He snorted.That was kinda amusing, seeing as Dylan didn’t even do dress slacks or button-down shirts, let alone makeup.

A blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman wearing scrubs and a white coat ducked around the curtain.“Hello, Mr.—” She paused as she glanced through the charts she held.“Mr.Pierce, is it?”

Was this the doctor?Hmm.She was pretty enough—not that it mattered, but he wouldn’t complain either.

He grinned at her.Usually, his grin got some response, either from the guys or the gals—he went for both equally.That was how he was wired.

But this doctor only watched him with those blue eyes like a librarian watching for misbehavior between the stacks.His grin had no effect.

He decided he liked the challenge.He wanted to make her smile.She looked like she needed it.Hell, she looked tired.Everything about her was pale.Light blue scrubs, a white jacket that came down past her hips and was carefully buttoned up the front, porcelain skin from too much time indoors.She had a stethoscope around her elegant neck.A neck that was on full display thanks to her tightly contained hair, tortured into a bun.

“Call me Dylan,” he said.“I’m just waiting for someone to sign off on this so I can roll out of here.”He lifted his left wrist, which was currently swathed in an ace bandage with a stiff brace on it.

The doctor—she still hadn’t introduced herself—raised one pale brow.She reminded him of one of those ballet dancers that were so delicate that a guy like Dylan was afraid he’d break her in half.But she definitely had fire in those blue eyes.He got the feeling she wasn’t someone to mess with.

Which only made him want to mess with her even more.

The doctor looked at the wrist brace.She met his eyes again.“Mr.Pierce, I hardly think your wrist is what’s keeping you here in our care.You had a head injury as well.”

“You mean it’s bad that I’m seeing two beautiful women in front of me right now?”

Her eyes narrowed with concern.“Are you seeing double, Mr.Pierce?”

He grinned at her again.“No, that was me flirting.I don’t think I caught your name, doctor.”

Her brow furrowed.She looked adorable when she was flustered.“I’m Dr.Foster.”

“Doctor…” Dylan said coaxingly.“You have a first name, right?”

Oh,thathad ruffled her feathers.She straightened until Dylan could’ve sworn he heard her spine crack.Those blue eyes flashed fire.

“My given name is irrelevant to this medical evaluation, Mr.Pierce.I’m here to inform you that you have a concussion.”She pulled out a pair of glasses from a pocket as she moved past him.She tapped a few keys on the keyboard on the computer cart and pulled up one of those crazy looking bran scan things with all of the colors.“You can see it right here.Swelling and activity indicative of a mild concussion.”She whipped out a penlight and began waving it in front of his eyes.“Do you have any spots in your vision, vertigo, or any kind of dizziness?”

“Only when you entered the room, Doctor Beautiful.”

She stared at him.He gave her the widest grin he could.

The compliment was hands-down stupid and cheesy beyond belief, but he noticed her lips twitch as if she were fighting a smile at his sheer obnoxious gall.Good.He wanted to make her smile.He’d happily make a fool of himself for that.

Maybe that way she’d sign off on his release so he could get back behind the wheel.

“You can’t charm me with silly compliments, Mr.Pierce,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him…but she was smiling now.It was a genuine smile, and it made her look stunning.“I’m not letting you escape just because you give me puppy dog eyes, either.”

He snorted, playing put-out, but he was happy she was warming up a little.Her smile was good progress.

She turned away to read something on the computer screen.Probably so she could hide from his overwhelming charm.Who could blame her?

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