Page 31 of Scrubbing In
Rubbing a hand over his beard and groaning, his unwavering attention is a magnet I can’t resist. Reluctantly, and with a smile I can’t hold back, I go back to the keyboard to enter the information.
With that, we begin a daily routine. Julian waiting with a cup of coffee, a purred “pretty girl,” in greeting, and some teasing remark sure to bring a blush to my cheeks. Each morning, he has continued to stand behind the counter with me. When I didn’t call him out on his proximity the next day—I only smiled as heraised his eyebrows in silent question because I like it too much—he’s claimed the spot right next to me as his. The heat from his body wakes me up in a way a delicious cup of coffee never has.
It's getting harder to resist this man. When he’s this close to me, I forget my reasons for believing this isn’t a good idea.
Almost.
Today’s the last morning of his week-long shift. We’re side by side and he’s once again leaning one elbow on the counter with his body angled towards me, softly inhaling my hair that I have taken to leaving out until I move to the back hallways.
Our closeness feels exciting and dangerous, but also natural in a way we can carry on a conversation as I type and click away on my computer.
“You’re finishing up your first shift. What are you planning to do with your time off?” I ask, curiosity about him getting the better of me.
Huffing, he begins twirling a curl around his index finger. “I was supposed to move into my new place this weekend, but the rental fell through. So I thought I’d explore Bayberry a little. Any suggestions where I should eat?”
Suddenly breathless at the rough inflection in his voice on the last word, my fingers still. I tip my head up to meet his eyes.
The sound of Benny’s familiar clomping feet and off-key humming breaks the spell. Taking in our lack of space, my spine stiffens. There would be no mistaking what's going on between us to anyone seeing his proximity to me, but Benny in particular, with his wagging tongue, is a recipe for disaster.
Julian must see my alarm, and thankfully slides down to the next computer, hunching against the counter. He winks at me before he begins scrolling on his phone moments before the interloper rounds the corner.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Julian
“Busy day, Jacobs?”Benny hollers when he spots me relaxing against the desk.
“I’ve got a couple cases, hopefully nothing too crazy.”
Straightening, I shake the man’s offered hand as he joins us behind the desk. Watching with narrowed eyes as he sidles up next to Leena in almost the exact way we were moments ago. Her shoulders stiffen imperceptibly. Either he doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care.
“What’ve we got going on today, Leena?”
She twirls away to the printer along the back wall and plucks the paper that shoots out. Handing it to him, they quietly go over what the day ahead looks like.
My lips flatten and my shoulders tighten. I know I shouldn’t linger, but I can’t get my feet to move.
Benny lifts his hand and tugs on one of the long, loose curls hanging over Leena’s shoulder. “I always forget how curly your hair is,” he interrupts her. “I like it, seeing it down. It’s like when I get to see you without your scrubs on.”
My vision blurs a hazy red with anger at his innuendo, a common joke in the OR when we see someone dressed in regularclothes and not the scrubs we are accustomed to seeing one another in.
I’m not unfamiliar with suggestive comments and conversations—it happens to be a common occurrence in the OR. With our patients typically unconscious, people shed their professional healthcare worker facade and relax into a laidback camaraderie with one another. Most join in the innocent teasing, never taking it too seriously.
However, the appreciative tone Benny used as he lowered his voice to a whisper as he touched my girl’s hair was obvious. An unfamiliar urge to slam his head against the desk threatens to overtake me. I’ve never had violent urges or experienced the jealousy currently burning in my chest.
“Ew, Benny! You know how disgusting that is?” Leena yanks her hair out of his hand and gives him a sharp look. She twists her glossy locks at the nape of her neck and slips another adorable scrub cap with a Taylor SwiftThe Eras Tourprint on her head. Fidgeting with it until it sits comfortably on her head. “Especially when I’ve heard you use that same kind of line on almost every female here,” she says with an edge to her voice.
He scoffs. “Leena, lighten up. I was actually trying to give you a compliment.”
Her eyes shift to me. Relaxing my jaw, I give her a tender smile hoping to convey my thoughts.
You’ve got this, baby.
At the softening of her shoulders—so slight that if I wasn’t locked in on her, I’d miss it—all the tension in my neck and shoulders eases. I did that.
“Yeah, sure. Keep it to yourself next time,” she reprimands him.
Seeing her take command of an uncomfortable situation, I stare at her in awe. My girl has a backbone and claws she isn’t afraid to use. The fact that she has never shut me down or usedthat tone of voice on me makes me want to pound my chest in manly satisfaction.
