Downshift Series, #1 Page 2

  After the longest moment, JT remembered to answer her and he blinked.

  “Oh, good. And do you remember what you had for breakfast?” She circled something on her paper and turned her gaze back on him.

  One blink. What was there to remember? He never ate on race day. The contents of his stomach rose too fast at the starting line. A fact Blake loved rubbing in his face. JT focused on the sheet of paper she wrote on, rather than her distracting face. He didn’t even know her name.

  She finished writing and then raised her eyes. “Blink the number your pain is at, one being none at all and ten being unbearable, screaming and writhing like you’re burning to death.” She winked, not flirting, but her friendly teasing made her question easier to consider.

  JT tried to focus his attention inward to answer her question. He hurt, but he couldn’t pinpoint where and it came and went in waves. At the peak, maybe a seven. He blinked seven times.

  “Seven?” She wrote the number down at his answering single blink. “Okay, that’s actually pretty good for a sprained wrist, bruised ribs, twisted ankle, and a concussion. Do you have reactions to any medications other than the penicillin allergy we have on your records?”

  Two blinks. Did she say he had something wrong with his arm? The rest of it was a blur.

  That wasn’t going to work for him. He had another race in a week.

  JT swallowed against the weight of his tongue and the sandy texture of his mouth. Moisture, he needed something to drink. If he blinked five times, would that get him water? He cleared his throat, but only managed a small push of air which whistled around the oxygen tube in his nose.

  He parted his lips. Dang it. She would walk out of the room and who knew when she’d be back, if ever.

  “I...” And now he sounded like a frog. Great. His voice had to be there. She hadn’t said anything about his neck or throat.

  Somehow, he found enough saliva to moisten his mouth and he croaked out, “What’s your name?”

  He did it. If he hadn’t been strapped to the bed by his own fatigue, he would’ve jumped up and attempted to dance on the ceiling. Maybe even grabbed her hand and spun her around. Yeah, right, who was he kidding? He didn’t have the guts for a move like that.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, let me get you some ice.” She held out her name tag with a smiling picture above the text. “I’m Kelsey. I’m your nurse for a little bit longer today and maybe tomorrow. Since you’re talking, I can let the doctor know and we can get some food for you. Isn’t that exciting?” She addressed him with a tolerance he hadn’t received since kindergarten, like he was simple-minded.

  She didn’t see him as a man, that fact was plainer than the sterility of the hospital room. His appreciation for her femininity growled under the injustice that she didn’t see him the same way. Frustration at his situation burned hotter than the pain from his injuries, but he tamped down his temper.

  It wouldn’t do to be rude to the woman he was going to marry.

  Chapter 2

  Kelsey

  The man in C2 haunted Kelsey’s night and she had zero luck getting any sleep. She punched in her employee ID number, another shift looming before her. She’d much rather study the effects of enemas on llamas than poke people’s arms and check to make sure they were using the bathroom, but money made the world go ‘round. At least, it made the wheels in her ’77 VW go round and the medical care of her grandmother continue.

  What else did a girl need?

  She frowned as the lanyard holding her name tag hooked on her ponytail and skewed it to the side, trying to strangle her. “What the? What did I do to you?” She grunted as it got tighter and she slipped to the right of the hallway.

  Arms full, Kelsey leaned against the wall outside a patient’s room and grappled with her backpack, lunch bag, and shoes to yank the band from her head. Hair fell around her shoulders and across her face. Somehow, she dropped her bag, but not her shoes. Oh, wait... Thud. There went one.

  She tried not to scream at the day she was having. Instead, she heaved a deep sigh and gathered all of her things again. Standing, she shook her head to get her hair out of her mouth. She glanced up, her gaze clashing with blue eyes bordered with bruises and bandages.

  Josiah Thompson, the patient from the day before, watched her with curiosity and a surety that unnerved her. As if he liked the crazy mess she was in that moment and he could see past her stress to who she really was, minus the chaos. She hadn’t been looked at like that in a long while. Not by a man with muscles that bulged past the shoulder slits in his hospital gown.

  Unsure where to look, Kelsey offered a half-smile and ducked away from his door. She wasn’t quite ready to turn on the charm she used with her other patients. She needed a minute to zone into the work mentality, and doing so the second she fell apart wasn’t the best time.

  The one time a cute guy came to her floor, into one of her rooms, she fell apart in front of his room. Wow, Kels, way to go.

  She tossed her bag and shoes into the dayshift drawer and placed her lunch in the mini-fridge by the blanket warmer. A couple flicks of her wrist and she twisted her hair up into another ponytail.

  The night shift nurse yawned and waved as Kelsey spoke. “Hey, Sylvia. How goes it?”

  Sylvia smiled and handed over a clipboard. Her kind smile and soft curls that framed her face made her a favorite on the floor with the patients and the staff. “Kelsey, everything’s quiet. We have a live one in C2. Watch the girls around him. They’ve been coming up from phlebotomy, peds, ortho, and even janitorial.”

  The only one she knew in C2 was Josiah.

  “For what?” Kelsey checked off the vitals and meds. Did they have a celebrity in house? Sylvia must have gotten the room number wrong.

  Sylvia jerked her thumb to the side, toward C2. “For him. The dirtbiker. Mr. Blue Eyes. Chad from neuro came down —”

  “Chad? Dr. Larkin?” Kelsey crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. Dr. Larkin refused to come to their floor because he had an “office upstairs and his patients could walk”. He wasn’t their favorite specialist.

  Nodding with eyes wide, Sylvia poked her finger onto the paper pad in front of her. “Yeah, he came down and got the biker’s autograph for his sons and had to wait in line, if you can believe it. Anyway, he discussed Mr. Thompson in there and his racing record. Apparently, we have one of the top three AMA racers on the floor.”

  “AMA? The top three are Mac Johnson, Blake Stone, and JT Thomps... No...” Dang it, of course he would be into dirt biking. She hadn’t put two and two together because his name wasn’t published often as Josiah. And the only way she even knew the names of the top racers was because everyone knew who they were. The Golden Boys of the biking industry.

  Kelsey slowed her breathing. She couldn’t go back in there. She was humiliated. She’d flirted with him professionally, if there was such a thing. JT Thompson. Great. He and his best friends were close seconds to Jeremy McGrath, the greatest dirt biker who ever popped a wheelie.

  Sylvia continued as if Kelsey hadn’t just been stunned silent. “Yeah. There are lots of people here who are fans, from the looks of it. Did you see all the flowers? And chocolates? Some strumpet dropped off a box and I opened it for him to put on the lap table. You’ll never guess what she’d put in there.” Sylvia’s wide eyes regarded Kelsey with a mixture of horror and excitement in that moment. She leaned forward and whispered, “Panties. And not just any kind of panties – thongs, pink ones.”

  A hand to her chest, Sylvia leaned back. Her short silver-laced hair poked in all directions. “I drew the line and enforced visiting hours. Nobody else has been allowed in since eleven.”

  “Great. How many have tried to see him since then?” Kelsey craned her neck to gain a peek into the room just down the hall. The open door offered a glimpse of bright balloons and a garden variety of flowers she’d missed when caught fixing her hair and falling to pieces.

  “I don’t know. I let security handle it.
Oh, because I turned it over to them and there’s been such a demand, they get to ask him for an autograph first when visiting hours open.” Sylvia picked up her paper coffee cup and tossed it into the garbage. “You have tomorrow off, right? Going to visit your grandmother?”

  “Yes and yes.” Kelsey’s erratic school schedule kept her workdays spread apart. She only had a couple more weeks and then she’d be finished. At least until she got into the nurse practitioner’s program – fingers crossed!

  “Okay, have a good one. I’ll see you at seven.” Sylvia gathered her bags and lunch plastic ware and disappeared down the hall the opposite way from C2.

  Kelsey waved half-heartedly.

  The rest of the staff would arrive within the hour to replace the graveyard shift. Kelsey flipped through his chart to be prepared. The last thing she needed was to be caught unawares. Mr. Thompson’s stats were stable throughout the night, but he hadn’t taken any pain meds.

  His breakfast was due to arrive any minute and she hadn’t done rounds to check on the patients. She debated starting with C2, having only two other beds that day. She cleared her throat and tidied her hair.

  Dirt biker, Kelsey, jerk on wheels. Remember that. The reminder didn’t help keep the excitement down in her stomach at the possibility of seeing him again without being able to escape.

  A soft-knuckle rap on the door frame announced her arrival. Kelsey smiled and avoided meeting his gaze, but managed to take in his appearance and the status of his bandages.

  “Mr. Thompson, I hear you’ve had a steady stream of visitors all night. Did you get any rest?” Kelsey wiped Sylvia’s name from the white board and scrawled her own in the nurse’s section.

  His hoarse voice sent tickles dancing down her spine. “Not enough, apparently. Do you think you could keep them from coming in today?” Fatigue dragged at his tone.

  “Sure, are you tired?” She approached him, checking his stats and moving her stethoscope into place on his chest.

  “Not really. I’m just not in the mood to talk to anyone. Most people want autographs, you know?” His lips parted enough to speak, but his bruised face gave away little emotion. “Everybody wants something.”

  Kelsey couldn’t tell if he was serious or trying to joke. What did it matter? He was the patient. Nothing was going to happen with a dirt biker. She couldn’t believe she was even considering it, anyway.

  “The price for being famous, I’m told.” She smiled in a general way and sighed inwardly at the injustices that the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen were on a man whose sole existence centered on his sport.

  She leaned across him to assist him into a sitting position, so she could listen to his breath sounds. The position put his face within a few inches of hers.

  He glanced at her lips and then met her gaze, forcing her to hold steady on his. Quietly, he asked, “Do you want my autograph?”

  Arching her eyebrow, Kelsey chuckled. “Um, no. I’m not into dirt biking.” She shook her head, breaking his hypnotizing gaze before she broke into full laughter at the absurdity of the thought.

  “Why?” He lifted his uninjured hand toward her as if he sensed her desire to flee.

  A wave of awkward discomfort rushed over her. She shifted her feet, unwilling to answer his question. “Your breakfast should be here within the next thirty minutes. I’ll have a CNA bring it in. She might ask you for your autograph.”

  Kelsey couldn’t hide her coy smile. She might not be into dirt biking, but that didn’t mean everyone else wasn’t. They were in northern California, after all. It seemed like everyone wanted wheels that could climb up trees, or the side of mountains, or whatever else they need them for.

  Plus, Kelsey wasn’t too proud to admit that her attraction to him was in spite of the fact that he had a pair of wheels that he spent most of his time with. She was, however, proud enough, too, not to get mixed up with him because of those wheels. She’d already gone that route and she didn’t need to ride that pain trail again. She learned her lesson already.

  Something about him tugged at places inside her she’d locked away since Brad... well, never mind. She didn’t need men and she certainly didn’t need a dirt biker man-person with a banged up face sucking at her sympathy. Kelsey had to pull it together.

  “You didn’t answer my question. Why don’t you like dirt biking?” His voice tore her stubborn efforts to be apathetic to shreds. He wasn’t rude or even pushy with his tone. No, just his words rebuked her.

  Glancing at him, Kelsey pressed her lips together. He was pushing edges of her emotions that she hadn’t fully dealt with. Her closure there would be slow going since Brad had disappeared. Things were hard to resolve when the person at fault wasn’t around to confront. She stared into his dark eyes, her pulse speeding up to war with her breathing.

  After a drawn out moment, she swallowed. “Okay, then. I’ll be back.” She retreated as if she’d been under attack, her face red.

  He wasn’t intriguing, how could he be? He had bandages over most of his face and head. The skin exposed to sight was black and blue under a deep tan. She sped out of his room and onto the more mundane tasks of her day, the things that didn’t ask her personal questions or make her question her sanity.

  Staying away from men and their hobbies would keep her safer. It would go a long way to protect her emotional safety, but most importantly... her heart.

  VISITING HOURS STARTED with a bang. Kelsey laid the smack down on thirty-two people in an hour. Thirty-two! Most of them were hospital staff. Kelsey couldn’t even rely on security to help her out since three of the four on shift had come within minutes of each other.

  Arms splayed across the doorway to C2, Kelsey blocked three new visitors – a young man not dressed in a hospital uniform and two teenage girls dressed far beyond their years with more makeup on than the entire nursing staff combined.

  “Mr. Thompson needs his rest and all visitors are being asked to wait until he is released. Only family is allowed to visit.” She waved her hands toward the exit and the Britney Spears wannabes pouted. Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Thank you, goodbye.”

  The man didn’t budge. He craned his head, a touch shorter than a solid six feet, to see past her into the room. Kelsey adjusted her footing, bracing her arms with a hand on each hip. “You, too, sir. You can leave a message for Mr. Thompson, but only family is allowed.” She found it ridiculous, the way people acted. Was it because he was famous?

  “I’m family. Well, I’m the only family that’s going to visit him. His dad won’t step foot in hospitals. Mac should be a long after his team meeting.” He caught the eye of JT and jerked his chin up. “Hey, man, you wanna call off the hot guard chick? She’s blocking me from chilling.”

  Upon closer inspection, Kelsey recognized Blake Stone, one of the Chaotic Threesome she’d read so much about in the magazines that had littered Brad’s coffee tables and counters. Blake was better looking in person than any camera had ever captured.

  She glanced over her shoulder to check with JT. The knowledge that they were friends included the fact that the two of them were horribly competitive and their relationship was more off and on then a light in a public bathroom.

  JT nodded slowly at her, his smile centered on her. She caught her breath and nodded tightly. He had a look on his face like he knew what she was thinking and he approved. He didn’t know she’d been thinking of him more than just keeping his room off-limits...

  Did he?

  Chapter 3

  JT

  Kelsey left the room and JT caught Blake’s wide-eyed gaze. He shrugged with his good shoulder. Blake would never understand unless JT made his attraction to Kelsey purely physical, but he couldn’t objectify Kelsey like that. “I told you she was hot. She's smart, too. You should see the book she studies.”

  “How do you see what she studies? You're stuck in bed.” Blake moved into the room and shut the door, snapping his fingers and swinging his arms.

  He walked around with
a jittery energy JT never understood. As though Blake was trying to figure out where he fit in, when he fit in everywhere. He was the type of guy you loved because you couldn't help it, even when you sometimes loved to hate him. He was JT's oldest friend alongside Mac, which didn't make him any less infuriating.

  “Take a seat, there's not much else going on. This is it. If anybody finds out you're here with me, you’re going to get attacked for autographs.” JT rolled his eyes, grabbing his cup and sipping at the ice water. “I'm telling you, man, if the sponsors could see me now. They would line up out that door to have me pose with bedpans.”

  Much as he was joking, he was kind of serious. Coming to the end of his career, he recognized what the reality was regarding his value to marketing. Freestyle wasn't the highest paying, but it would be something that would replace his income now.

  What would replace the thrill? Freestyle was just going to be doing the same old tricks, unless he stepped it up and made harder tricks to nail. The possibility of the challenge drew him, excited him.

  That was all he needed to pursue it.

  Blake pulled out a number of coins and jangled them in his hand – up, down, up, down – as he toured the hospital room. “Yeesh, you’ve made this place a florist’s shop.” As he wandered by, he pushed at a bunch of balloons set along the perimeter on a table.

  “I haven’t done anything.” How was JT supposed to ask Blake to leave without hurting his friend’s feelings? He was tired and his limited interactions with Kelsey frustrated him further. It wouldn’t be long before sponsors would start bugging him to see when he’d be able to perform. They paid the bills and he had to do what the contracts said.

  The door cracked open and Mac stuck his head in, careful to keep himself outside the room. “There is a fiery redhead out here saying I can’t come in. Can you tell her I'm good?” Opening the door wider, Mac jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward Kelsey who stood with her hands on her hips, staring at JT.