Page 4 of Unwrapped
“Keep pressure on it,” Jordana commands, wrapping Hudson’s hand in a dish towel.
“I’m fine, guys. Everyone needs to chill.”
“You’re not fine,” Jude barks, throwing his hands in the air. “The tip of your fucking finger is missing.”
My stomach lurches, and my prickling scalp tells me I’m entering the danger zone. Sweat coats my body in an instant.
Lena rushes over to my friends and leaps into action. “I’m a nurse.” She gestures to the freezer. “I need ice. Where’s the severed tip?”
“Here.” Jordana retrieves something fleshy from the counter and hands it over.
I cover my mouth to stifle a gag and try to force myself to breathe.
Sawyer yanks the freezer open and grabs an ice cube tray, twisting it to free the cubes. Meanwhile, I’m rooted to the floor, blinking rapidly as my vision gets hazy and begins to tunnel. I know I need to sit down, but the scene has me paralyzed with shock and panic.
Thundering footsteps sound from the staircase beside me, and Talia bursts into the room with a dark-haired guy carrying a bag. “Beep, beep. Coming through.”
My heart skips a beat when I recognize the one man with the power to break me.
Mood Music: “Amber” by 311
Good thing blood and guts are my specialty.
Although I was kinda hoping to escape that part of my life for a few days. Of course, leave it to Hudson to make things interesting. I’ve known him since college, and he was the catalyst for my decision to pursue emergency medicine. I’ve been at the bed and breakfast for all of twenty minutes, and the moron has already injured himself. I was upstairs, getting settled in my room, when Talia barged in to announce he’d sliced his finger chopping apples.
Who the hell had the brilliant idea to let him use a knife in the first place?
Hudson Pierce is the reason I keep my medical bag stocked with surgical supplies and bring it literallyeverywhere.This isn’t the first time I’ve had to stitch him up—probably the fourth—and I’m sure it won’t be the last. No joke, the guy is a walking, talking, accident waiting to happen. I honestly don’t know how he got through organic chemistry without blowing up the lab.
“Excuse me.” I brush past the woman in the kitchen doorway and cross the room to my friends, plopping my bag on the counter. “Really, man?”
“It’s not like I did it on purpose,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck with his uninjured hand. “I just wanted to help Jordy with the pies.”
Jordana pinches the bridge of her nose. “And I toldyouI had everything under control. Like always, you ignored me and did what you wanted instead. I swear, you’d die if you didn’t go out of your way to piss me off.”
Grinning, he gives her his good hand’s middle finger.
She rolls her eyes. “Right back atcha.”
Ignoring their trademark bickering, I shove my sleeves up and quickly wash my hands, then snatch some paper towels before gesturing to Hudson. “What’ve we got?”
“He’s a bleeder, but it’s not as severe as it looks,” announces an unfamiliar caramel-haired woman who’s applying pressure to the wound. “The nail bed is intact. It’s just a chunk of the fleshy underside that’s missing. Nothing a few sutures can’t fix.”
“Dean’s an ER doctor,” Sawyer informs her. He glances up at me. “Lena is a trauma nurse, which is pretty fucking convenient right now.”
“Excellent.” I motion to my friends. “Can you back up and give us some space please? I don’t need you guys up my ass while I suture him.”
A loud thud turns everyone’s attention to the doorway. The woman I’d passed on my way into the room is now crumpled on the floor. My mouth drops open as recognition slams me in the solar plexus. It’s not just any woman—it’s Camille Monet, the girl I’ve been in love with since college.
My twin brother’s ex-girlfriend.
“Fuck. I forgot Cami passes out at the sight of blood.” Talia’s voice jolts me out of my stupor. “Vasovagal syncope or whatever the hell it’s called.”
I remember my dickhead brother once mentioned her history of fainting, and I know all about the neurocardiac phenomenon from medical school, but I’ve never seen it happen. I was in such a rush to get to Hudson; I didn’t even look at her on my way in. Now I’m kicking myself for the hyperfocus that’s both a blessing and a curse. Had I knownshewas the one standing there, I could’ve anticipated her loss of consciousness and ordered her to sit on the floor with her head between her knees. I could’ve acted instead ofreacted.
It shouldn’t surprise me—I’ve been a minute too late my whole life. Especially where Camille is concerned.
“Did anyone see if she hit her head?” I yank the smelling salts from my bag as a chorus of“I don’t know” fills the room. Great. The weekend just started, and we’ve already got a lacerated fingertip and potential concussion on our hands. “You got Hudson?” I ask Lena, relieved to have someone here who’s more capable of handling an injury than my crew of pharmacist friends.
