Page 4 of Coming Home

“Eww.” I imagine Leah cringing and wrinkling her face. She is not the caring type.

“Are you still bleeding? Did you wash it out? Put pressure on it? Which hospital did you go to?” Nicole is a nurse, so she instantly shifts into her professional mode.

“No, I’m not still bleeding. Yes, I washed it out and put pressure on it. And, I came to Great Plains Hospital.” I bite my lower lip and hope I don’t get an ass chewing. Nicole works for County General, the rival hospital for Great Plains.

“Okay. They have a good ER. Actually, I’m starting a new job there next week. Not the ER this time, but as a nurse in one of the offices.”

Where in the hell have I been?

“Mr. Collins?”

I shudder. Fuck. Natalie saying my name is not supposed to make me weak in the knees. No. That’s not why I’m woozy. I’ve lost a lot of blood. That’s what is wrong with me. It has nothing to do with her. “Girls, I’ve got to go.”

“Call us back when you get out,” Leah demands.

Clicking off the phone, I stand up. Like I’m going to ignore her. If I don’t call her back, she’ll blow up my phone all night or drag her brood over to my house and set up shop in my living room.

Chapter Three

Natalie

I’m a professional. I can check him in without letting on that seeing him bothers me. Because it doesn’t. I’ve spent the last twelve years getting over him. We were young, full of innocent hope, and now, we’re adults, who know happily ever after is a fairytale for Disney Princesses.

Shit. I’m no fucking Rapunzel or Snow White. I don’t even qualify as one of Cinderella’s bitchy stepsisters. I have one full-blooded sister and no stepsisters. No one would marry my dad after our mom left. I snort. Fuck. This is so not funny.

“Mr. Collins, I need your insurance card.” Without glancing in his direction, I motion for him to have a seat next to me.

He straightens his leg, leans forward, and digs into the pocket of his jeans. There is barely an inch of space between us. I jump back to avoid any accidental touching.

“I’m not going to bite.” His rough voice curls along my spine as I remember the feel of his hands skating along my flesh. “Unless you want me to.” His eyes sear into me as if he’s remembering the same thing.

Whatever you do, don’t nip out. My heart slams into my chest, and my nipples tighten into two nubs of flesh that tent against the fabric of my bra. Bitches. I clear my throat and pin him in place with my most stern, ‘Dealing with an asshole patient face.’ “Mr. Collins, that is unnecessary. I only need your insurance card, so I can get you checked in.”

“Humph.” He rolls his eyes and digs the card out of his wallet. “What crawled up your ass and died? You used to have a sense of humor.”

Tears sting my eyes, and I bite my bottom lip. Hard. The metallic flavor of blood drenches my tongue as I split the inside of my mouth open. I swipe at it and swallow. “Trey, I’m just here to do a job.”

For several moments, he stares, and heat rises along my chest. I fight the urge to run and hide, but it never accomplishes anything. I’ve spent my entire adulthood running from my past. When will I ever woman up and deal with it?

“Fine.” He clears his throat and shoves the card toward me. “Here.”

“Thanks.” I grab the business card-sized sheet of paper and twirl away from him. As I pull up his record and type in his information, his foot taps on the floor. Just get it over with and move on. “Do you still live on Springwood Drive?”

My heart slams in my throat. Holy hell. He moved into the house we talked about buying when we got married.

“Yes.”

He married someone else and moved into my house? Son of a bitch. My eyes shift to his left hand. No wedding ring. That doesn’t mean anything. He could still be married.

I gulp. It feels like a medicine ball is lying on my chest. Who does he live with? How many children do they have? I close my eyes. Surely, my sister would have said something if he got married and had a slew of kids.

God, this sucks. A low moan escapes my lips. Don’t break down now.

“Are you okay?” Trey grasps my forearm.

The heat from his fingertips, sears into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine.” I click the mouse and exit out of the screen.

“We’re ready in exam room four.” Nurse Rivera calls out, saving me from utter humiliation.

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