Doctor's Orders

8. Abnormal Behavior

It was the Fourth of July and I was working my regular overnight shift. That wasn't surprising since I was the newest in the department. It was fine anyway; I'd spent some time basking in the sun (under loads of sunscreen) at the little beach across from my new apartment building. Otherwise, I didn't really have plans. 

The night was crazy, as was expected for a night of drinking, boating and fireworks. Dr. Styles had the night off, thankfully. Things had been a little more peaceful between us, but I was still coming to terms with the new bit of information about his significant other. 

I found it extremely odd when he appeared out of nowhere around midnight. The fact that he was taken didn't even cross my mind as I struggled to pick my jaw up off the floor. There he stood, chatting with a few of the nurses, looking like he just stepped off a plane from Cancun with a deep bronze covering his skin. How had I never noticed it before? Perhaps because his skin was always covered with a lab coat. His long, toned legs stretched out between his white golf shorts and his loafers, and the salmon color of his shirt seemed to make everything else about him darker and sexier. I saw a few more of his tattoos, one of which was a mermaid with a naked upper half. Interesting. And, oh my heavens, the ponytail that messily pulled his long curly mane up away from his face was the hottest thing I'd ever seen. I never even knew I liked ponytails on men until that exact moment.

Completely against my will, when he looked at me and smiled, a jolt of lightning raced through my body and struck everything in its path, and I mean everything. He literally made my knees weak, for heaven's sake. This wasn't good. I needed to be steady on my feet for the rest of my shift. I immediately forgot that he'd ever said a harsh word at me and I walked up to him, grinning like a psychopath.

"Good evening, Ms. Jansen," he said politely. "How are things going tonight?"

"Super!" I said a little too excitedly. His unexpected presence - and the fact that he was hotter than the sun itself - had left me a little jittery.

"Great," he said and winked. Winked? What the actual fuck?

I was quickly summoned back to stitches and fireworks injuries, but not without being completely mystified by his behavior. I'd checked on several patients, sending three of them home with bandages and painkillers. When I came back out to my station to grab a drink of water, Dr. Styles was just ... standing there. I cautiously looked around to make sure I wasn't missing anything, and then I grabbed my water bottle and chugged.

"Want some?" I offered.

"No," he laughed, making me swoon with that damn dimple. "But I wanted to apologize."

I looked at him in complete confusion.

He leaned back against my station, crossed his legs and looked down at his feet. His deep voice drawled, "You're right. I am too hard on you. And I'm sorry."

I shifted my weight, feeling uneasy as I waited for him to say more.

He looked back up at me; his eyes were soft and disarming. "I'm tough on everyone," he admitted. "But especially on you. Because you're good."