“Do you have a minute?” His voice was kind of gruff but he softened the question with a half grin that made my heart trip.

“Not really. We’re pretty hectic today. The weather makes people go nuts, so we’re extra busy.”

He sighed and shifted so that he could shove his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the other nurses floating in and around the desk watching us with open curiosity.

“It’ll just take a second, please, Saint.”

I didn’t really think big, tough, tattooed guys used words like please, not that it was going to sway me. He had an unwanted effect on me and I knew it was a good idea to keep my distance from him. Just as I was about to refuse, the other nurse behind the desk, the one that was clearly smitten with his handsome face, offered up, “I’ll take the next room that just came in. You go ahead and take a breather for five minutes.”

I wanted to shift my glare to her, but she was just trying to be helpful, so I bit my lip and tilted my head toward the waiting room. There were more private places in the hospital I could have led him to, but being alone with him made me nervous and anxious.

“Follow me over there.”

He nodded and did as I asked. I felt the way his gaze burned into my back, and had to take several calming breaths and make sure I schooled my face into an impassive mask before I turned around to face him again. He sighed and used one broad shoulder to prop himself up against the coffee vending machine I had stopped by. We just stared at each other for a long moment. I was about to throw my hands up and walk away because the silence and his intense gaze gave me anxiety, when his quiet words surprised me.

“Phil’s condition is really bad. He told me there isn’t anything they can do. He’s dying and he just seems to be rolling with it, I don’t know how. I should have been here sooner.”

His tone was somber and his eyes under the dark bill of his hat had lightened to the shade of lilac. I could see how glassy they were, how much emotion he was trying to swallow down, and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to reach out and touch him, to try and soothe him. He wasn’t a wild animal that needed to be gentled … even if he kind of emanated that vibe.

“I’m sorry. Stage four is ugly and has a terrible prognosis no matter what kind of cancer it is.”

He nodded jerkily and tossed his head back on his neck so that he was peering down at me from under the brim of his ball cap.

“I’m sorry about the other night. I was really drunk, my shit was all over the place, and I swear I’m not usually that kind of guy. It was very nice of you to come over and check on me, and I acted like a dipshit. I just wanted to apologize, to tell you thanks.”

I was dumbfounded. That wasn’t what I was expecting from him, so I just stared up at him like a moron. He must have taken my silence as a rebuff because he pulled his hat off and scraped one of his hands roughly over the top of his shaved head. His dark eyebrows dipped down low over those fabulous eyes and his nostrils flared out a little. With that piercing he had in the center of his nose, it kind of made him look like an angry bull.

“Cut me some slack here, Saint. My life went sideways and this shit has been hard to deal with. I know you don’t like me, so it was extra nice of you to swing by. What I don’t know is why you don’t like me.”

I jolted back and dropped my defensive stance. Sure, I had my reasons for being standoffish and keeping my distance from him, but I had never meant to make my discomfort and unease around him totally palpable to others, especially to him. The last thing I wanted was to relive that moment, either of them. There was no way I was ever going to tell him that his dismissal, his harsh words, had forever changed me, forever changed how I looked at the opposite sex. It was humiliating and obviously way more memorable to me than it was to anyone else. If he had no recollection of it, I wasn’t going to remind him. He gave his head a shake and put his hat back on his head. He pushed off the vending machine and shrugged the wide expanse of his shoulders.

“All righty, then. I’ll steer clear of the ER if I can avoid it because clearly I make you really uncomfortable. I just wanted you to know that I appreciated you reaching out when obviously you would rather poke your own eye out with a dull spoon. You’re a really nice girl, Saint. I’ve always thought you were.”

He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up over his hat and turned around and walked away from me. Once he was out of sight, I had to put a hand on my pounding heart inside my chest and concentrate on not hyperventilating. He always thought I was nice? Then how could he have encouraged me, urged me to go out of my comfort zone, and then act as though I didn’t exist? Heck, kiss another girl right in front of me when I thought he was there for me? How could he say those hateful things that made me feel ugly and worthless to this day? Pretty boys shouldn’t try to hurt nice girls … at least in a perfect world they shouldn’t.

I didn’t get any more time to dwell on it because one of the nurses came flying around the corner frantically looking for me.

“Crash on the interstate. Four cars involved, multiple injuries coming in. They need at least four rooms prepped, if not more. The ambulances are three minutes out, so it’s all hands on deck.”

I didn’t have time to worry anymore about Nash or the past or how off balance any time I was face-to-face with him made me. I shoved it all aside and settled firmly into the role I was most comfortable in. Here I had no questions, no doubts, I wasn’t shy or hesitant, I was confident and secure. I just went to work and did what I did best … helped other people.

It was a long and grueling shift. I had to stay late because after we had the accident victims taken care of, we had a fire, another accident, and not one, but two gunshot wounds. It was hectic and chaotic, and I appreciated that it gave me the chance to push aside all my emotions from my recent run-ins with Nash and categorize them as trivial and fleeting.

I was walking out, dragging my feet and unwinding my long hair from the tight bun on the top of my head, when I ran into the only person outside of my sister who I considered a friend here in Denver. Sunshine Parker was the assistant nursing director, my boss, and probably the most honest and forthright person I had ever met. She was just a tiny little thing, part Filipino, with jet-black hair and a smile that went on for days. She had made the transition to this emergency unit bearable considering all my weird social hang-ups that often made settling into a new environment challenging. She was a few years older than me, totally dedicated to her career and to helping people in need. I so wanted to follow in her footsteps. She was just like me, only she had no problems talking to people or interacting like a normal person. She also wasn’t struck dumb by simple conversation.

“Hey you. Rough day?”

I was rubbing my fingers hard into my scalp where my hair had been trapped, and had to admit I was exhausted. Today I’d seen an excessive amount of blood and guts, even for an ER, and my short conversation with Nash had worn me out. I felt awful for him and what he was going through, but it also grated on my nerves that I cared at all one way or the other. I wanted to be immune to him. Only that didn’t seem to be an option my hormones were allowing.

“I’ve had better. It was a busy one.”

She tossed her blanket of shiny hair over her shoulder and cocked her head at me.

“You are an amazing nurse, Saint.”

Those kind of compliments I could take. I grinned at her and pulled out my phone as it started to ring. The display showed my sister’s face, so I silenced the call and shoved the phone in my pocket. I loved Faith, hard, but lately the only time she called me was when something was up with our parents, more specifically our mom, and the drama could wait for a second.

“Thanks, Sunny. That’s always nice to hear, and coming from you it means a lot.”

She grinned at me and put a hand on my shoulder, which had to look comical because she was so much shorter than me.

“Right. So believe me when I tell you that you need to find more in your life than this ER, or any ER. This is a job, a career, and yes, it’s an important one, one that requires dedication and sacrifice, but it does not require that you lose yourself in it. You’re a lovely, brilliant woman who has a bright future ahead of her. I see a lot of similarities between the two of us. Believe me when I say none of that means anything if you don’t have anything else.”

I made a confused face at her and shifted my weight so that she had to drop her hand off my shoulder.

“What brought that on, Sunny?”

She gave a little laugh and flipped her long hair over her shoulder again.

“I heard a rumor Dr. Bennet asked you out for drinks the other night, and you turned him down cold. Why would you do that? He’s gorgeous, and you have work in common, so I know you would have things to talk about. Why didn’t you even consider it? It just makes me worry about you. You’ve been here for almost two years, and you never socialize with us, never open up. I like you. I want you to be living the best life possible.”

Dr. Bennet was the hospital’s catch. He was twenty-eight, built like a fitness model, and had wavy black hair and dreamy green eyes that made most of the nurses and any other female whose path he crossed turn to mush. He was a total Lothario, but a seemingly nice guy, and had been hinting around for the last six months that he would like to get to know me better outside of work. Generally, I brushed the attention off. I wasn’t the type of girl doctors wanted to date, and there was no way I was in the market for an office hookup—not when I could hardly act normal as it was. But he had flat-out asked me on a date on Thanksgiving. Instead of responding, or trying to stumble my way through a mumbled excuse, I’d rushed off the moment the Flight for Life info had come in bearing Phil Donovan’s name. I had seen the information on the chart, and I had the single-minded need to find Nash and see what was going on with him. I hadn’t exactly turned the doctor down, but whatever draw Nash still had was just more powerful than getting to know the handsome doctor better.

“Come on, Sunny. I don’t really think I’m Bennet’s type and I don’t go out because I don’t really have time. I work, and you know how crazy things have been with my mom. I do live a good life.”

“A good life is not the same thing as a fulfilled life, Saint. If the man is asking you out, then I would say you are most definitely his type. You need to buy a new mirror, one that accurately shows you what everyone else sees when they look at you. I’ll never understand how you can’t see that you’re pretty much every man’s type.”

I wanted to tell her she was wrong, I did see what everyone else saw, but no amount of spectacular cle**age, a nice hourglass figure, or pretty hair could overcome the fact I had a hard time connecting with people, that trusting someone enough to let go and lighten up was nearly impossible for me, or the fact that trying to make small talk and just act like a typical girl was almost an insurmountable task for me. I was always so worried about saying or doing the wrong thing. I was saved from leveling more excuses, more justification at her, by my phone going off again. I could practically see my sister’s frustrated face on the other end of the call.

“I have to take this, Sunny, but seriously, thank you for looking out for me.”

“Sure thing, my friend. Someone has to … you’re too busy caring for everyone else to care for yourself.”

As if to prove her point, as soon as I cleared the sliding glass doors at the entrance of the hospital, Faith’s voice rang shrill in my ear.

“Are you ignoring my calls?”

Faith and I were close. Since we were only a year apart, we had gone through school together until she graduated. Going away to college on the West Coast had been necessary for me, but it had also been hard to leave her behind. Now she was married to her college sweetheart. They had four kids under the age of seven and were expecting a fifth. She was the primary reason I had come back to Denver even though I loved the beach, missed the hospital and staff from my postgrad job in California, and had a really hard time returning to the town that reminded me of my younger self every day.