Page 13 of What We Break
"Absolutely," I manage, my heart rate finally slowing down. "It's in the intergalactic handbook."
"See?" Reid tells the patient. "We run a respectable operation here."
The patient looks between us, then sighs, sinking into the mattress. "I really want a pizza."
"Now you're talking my language," Reid says. "I'll see if we can get the cafeteria to whip up a pepperoni peace offering. But only if you let the nice lady take your temperature. No grabbing."
"Okay," the man grumbles. "But definitely no butt stuff, okay?"
Reid chokes on his laugh. "Deal."
Reid steps back to let me work, but he doesn't leave the room. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching until I’ve finished the vitals. He’s joking about pizza toppings, but he’s also standing exactly where he’d need to be to intercept the guy if he lunged again.
Protective. Funny. Capable of de-escalating a paranoid delusion in under thirty seconds.
So hot.
A little while later, Reid's back with his fifth patient — a guy who keeps saying the same few sentences over and over.
"Let me guess," I say when Reid emerges. He's stolen a handful of mints from the bowl at the nurses' station and is unwrapping one. He has very nice hands. Strong, big—Stop it Laine!"Time loop?"
He grins. "Got it on the first try. You win a prize! He thinks he's reliving the last hour of his life. Keeps asking what time it is, thenforgetting the answer immediately." Reid pops the mint in his mouth. "I told him it was Groundhog Day. He didn't think it was funny."
The forgetting thing could be a bad sign. My brain shifts gears — out offun banter with hot EMTmode, intoclinical assessmentmode. The repetitive loops could be drug-related, but they could also indicate something neurological. I move him up the priority list. "How long has this been going on?"
"About twenty minutes. It could be worse. One of the other crews picked up a man who's convinced the paramedic is his wife. Randy's been fending off kisses in the back of his ambo."
I cover my mouth, laughing. "Oh my god."
"Randy's handling it with dignity and grace."
"Randy's a saint."
"Randy's traumatized." His radio crackles. Another call. He groans, but he's grinning.
"See you in a bit?" he asks.
"I'll be here."
I'll be here.Smooth, Laine. Really smooth. You said that to a hot paramedic like you were a lighthouse keeper promising to keep the light on.I'll be here.Standing at my post. Waiting for your return from the sea.
Oh my God. Stop.
An hour later, he's back, hair looking a little more mussed than last time, with a woman who's convinced we're all underwater.
“What do we have here?” Joyce asks, smiling. It’s been that kind of a night. Busy, but the energy in here is good. Other nights, things feel dark and solemn. We’ll have that kind of night again, so we’re enjoying today for what it is. A little reprieve.
"Grace thinks the hospital is underwater and we're all dolphins trying to help her breathe," Reid announces, helping guide the gurney.
"Of course we are," I mutter, hiding my smile from the patient. The corner of the hot paramedic’s lips are twitching too.
"Thank you for rescuing me," Grace tells Reid solemnly, making swimming motions with her arms. "I was drowning, but you dolphins saved me. You’re so pretty and smooth.” She runs her hand down his chest and sighs, and I have to clench every muscle in my stomach tostop myself from laughing out loud. She is full on groping the man. I have a feeling when she’s back in her right mind, she’ll be all kinds of embarassed…that’s if she even remembers.
Reid catches my eye over Grace's head and gives me a look that’s all kinds of amused and embarrassed.
What a freaking night.
"Maybe people are finally goingto sleep," Joyce says, covering a yawn, which makes me yawn, because yawning is a virus and nobody is immune.
