Page 19 of Challenge
“So one more night here and I’m good as new?” Camden asks, his voice stiff.
“Nearly,” Prichard answers. “You’ll feel normal when you go home. You’ll start physical therapy immediately. But to get back your full mobility on the pitch, you need to have the graft removed, which is why we’ll have you come back in one month for the follow-up surgery.”
“It’ll take a day or two for the swelling to go down around the incisions both times,” I add, feeling Camden’s tension and trying to calm his nerves. “But exercise is actually good for helping your incisions to heal.”
“But no football?” he asks Prichard.
“Not straight away. After the second surgery, you’re welcome to train at one hundred percent. Unfortunately, your season is over for this year, but there’s always next year, right mate?”
Camden looks down and nods, seemingly far away with his thoughts.
“Indie will take you for another MRI this morning. It’s always good to repeat after the swelling has gone down to make sure there’s nothing else we’re dealing with. We don’t like surprises in the OR if we can help it.”
My blood turns cold as I think about being alone with Cam again after last night. After our ICU kiss, it’s not a good idea. “I’ll get an intern on it,” I respond, pulling out my mobile to page one of them.
Prichard frowns at my lack of enthusiasm. Normally, I always do what he says, but I’m praying he lets this one time pass without a fight. I need some space.
“Well, make sure it’s a good intern. This is important,” Prichard orders before turning to say his goodbyes to Cam and Vi. I hurriedly follow him out of the room, anxious to get away from Camden’s confusing emotions that I seem to feel instinctively. I glance over my shoulder and lock eyes with him one last time. I am overcome by my desire to know what he’s thinking, but I have to disconnect. I have a full day of patients ahead of me. Additionally, if I still want him to be Penis Number One, I need to keep my distance.
Time flies through the day. By the time evening comes, I feel as if I’ve run a marathon. At dinner time, Belle flops down across from me in the hospital cafeteria. “Where the hell have you been all day?” she asks, picking up her apple and rolling it in her hands.
I glance down at her tray where only a Kit Kat remains. I would laugh at her odd combo, but I know she’s always on a weird diet so it’s best to just let her be.
I wrap my mouth around a spoonful of chicken noodle soup, hoping to buy myself some time, so she adds, “I woke up this morning and you were gone. I didn’t see you for lunch. Now it’s nighttime and, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were avoiding me. We always eat dinner together.”
“I’m not avoiding you. I’ve just been swamped and I had a four-hour-long surgery today.” Which is mostly true.
The fact is, after I left Camden’s room this morning, I wasn’t sure my poker face could hold up in front of Belle. I’m not ready to talk about everything so avoiding her was vital. Thankfully, it was a busy day in Patch Alley, so I really was just busy.
She hasn’t been the only one I’ve been avoiding. I checked in on Cam’s digital chart and managed everything I needed to do for him via an intern so I didn’t actually have to step foot in his room. The intern said he had people swarming in and out the entire day, so I’m sure he hasn’t even noticed.
“I knew Prichard would start rounds early because of the Harris brother, too, so that’s why you missed me this morning,” I add after downing the last bit of my soup. “I got up early to suck up to him as much as possible to ensure my position on the surgery tomorrow.”
“Oh, right. The Wilson Repair. Of course you’ll be on the surgery. You’re Prichard’s favourite and the best one for the job, you lucky cow.”
Lucky isn’t quite the word I’d use. I seem to be on Prichard’s rotation most weeks as of late, and his demeanour around me is getting more and more uncomfortable. But I’m interested in ortho, so I’m doing my best to grin and bear it.
“The whole hospital will be talking about you even more than they already do,” Belle adds, her expression full of mirth. “The third years are all moaning behind your back already.”
I roll my eyes. “Nothing different there.”
“But this will shut them up once and for all. This will prove that you are not only a book doctor. You’re a surgeon. They know it but are too stubborn to admit it.”
I gaze back at my friend, who’s now focusing intently on her green apple, and I instantly feel tremendous guilt for not telling her about last night. She’s such a loyal friend. Why am I keeping this from her?
“Well, hello, hello,” a voice calls from behind Belle just as she takes a massive bite of her apple. I look up to see a hairier version of Camden striding toward us.
Tanner Harris flops down in the open seat beside me. He strokes his beard and Belle’s mouth freezes on her apple. He flicks his head back, clearing his shaggy blonde hair away from his face and says, “Dr. Porter, am I right? Or would you rather be called Indie like that other prat of a doctor called you?”
“If she’s a doctor, you should call her Dr. Porter. It’s rude to call her anything else,” says another voice as yet another Harris brother takes the open seat next to Belle. Her mouth is still locked on the apple, causing him to eye her quizzically.
I recognise this brother as the youngest one, Booker. I was introduced to all of them when I explained the surgery to the family yesterday. He has a slightly lower muscle tone than his twin brothers, but is still tall and broad. Trim, dark hair matches his dark, sensitive eyes. Christ, these Harrises are even more handsome in street clothes. Even the hairy one.
Tanner eyes Belle as her bite remains frozen on her apple mid-bite. “Are you just here as a table decoration? Or does that apple actually come out of your mouth?”
I smile as Belle’s dark eyes turn to saucers. She completes her chomp down on the fruit, wiping away a dribble of juice that slithers down her chin.
“This is Dr. Ryan,” I add. “Definitely not here for decoration.”
