Jay Crownover - Nash

She didn’t say anything for a long minute and we just watched each other. I thought she was going to ask me to get dressed and leave, but to my surprise she wrapped her legs up around me and whispered in my ear.

“Ten minutes was your idea, Nash, I’m willing to give you all night.”

Well, with permission like that, I was going to see exactly what I could cook up before she either passed out from exhaustion or asked me to go.

I had never looked forward to a challenge more and I refused to wonder if one night or any number of minutes would be enough with this girl. She was something different. It radiated out of her, and I wasn’t sure I was anything special or a guy lucky enough to be the one to grab on to it.

I didn’t have time to get weirded out that Nash spent the night, or to sit back and evaluate all the things I let him do to me, or all things I had been bold enough to do to him. I don’t know where any of those typical fears and uncertainties that normally strangled me when it came to sex had gone, but when my phone went off before six in the morning on New Year’s Day, I was still very much naked and very much wrapped deliciously around a very large and naked man. There was no time to freak out, because the hospital was the number calling, and when it came to work, that was my first priority, and not all the tattooed and toned skin that stretched across Nash’s back, even as tempting and alluring as it might be.

Sunny was upset. Two different staff members had called off, and not only did she have to go in and cover one of the shifts but she needed me to go in as well. I was scheduled to work that night, so it meant being at the hospital all day, which sounded awful considering Nash had kept me up well into the early hours of the morning, but it offered me an easy way out of dealing with the day-after awkwardness, so I readily agreed.

When I got off the phone he lumbered sleepily to his feet, got dressed without giving me any kind of guilt trip or hassle, gave me a quick kiss on the mouth, and told me to give him a call when I got a chance. He left without any kind of interrogation, any kind of uncomfortable dance around the topic of are-we-or-are-we-not-doing-this-again. He left the ball firmly in my court and made it clear that it was entirely up to me if I wanted to keep it in play or not. He put me in charge, which wasn’t something I was used to outside of my career, and I had to admit the power of it, the choice being mine, made the entire situation with him easier to get my head around. It also made the fact that I was well on my way to admitting I had to forgive him for past sins the only option if I was going to move forward with whatever it was we were now doing with each other.

When I got to work it was chaos. Injured partyers from the night before abounded. There was a horrific home-construction accident involving a chain saw and a missing hand; a cop rushed in that had been involved in a domestic dispute with a couple and got a knife in the gut for his effort; a toddler had gotten into the bathroom cleaner under the sink; and two women in labor: one was breech, the other was having premature contractions. I didn’t have time to think about anything else or worry about the curious looks Sunny was giving me whenever we were in the same room or passed each other in the hall. I was dragging majorly by the time my actual shift in the late afternoon started and was in the break room guzzling coffee like it was lifeblood when my tiny little boss finally cornered me.

“Soooo?”

I jolted and sloshed the hot liquid over my fingers. I gave her a dirty look and found a paper towel to clean up the mess.

“So what?”

She rolled her eyes at me and poked me in the arm. “So how was the date with the doctor? You sounded exhausted this morning when I called, so I assume it went well. I bet you made a beautiful pair.”

I tried to keep my face impassive but I couldn’t keep looking her in the eye. Not when I had ditched the awful doctor and spent the rest of the night being thoroughly debauched by Nash.

“I ended the date early.”

Her eyes got big and she wrinkled her nose up at me. “You had him take you home early?”

I sighed and tossed my paper cup of now-lukewarm coffee into the trash.

“He was a jerk and so full of himself. His friends were appalling and the party was really just a group of people standing around trying to outdo each other. I was uncomfortable and bored, so I called a friend and left early. Dr. Bennet and I are really not compatible.”

She gave me a considering look.

“The guy with the nose ring?”

“What about him?”

“Is that the friend you called?”

I refused to feel bad about it or ashamed. There was nothing wrong with Nash. In fact there was so much right with him I was having a hard time remembering why I needed to watch my tender heart and fragile feelings around him in the first place.

“Yes.”

She made a noise and followed me out of the room. One of the medical assistants handed me a new file and told me there was a patient waiting in one of the rooms for me.

“I know based on first glance you wouldn’t think he was a really nice guy, but really he is.”

She shrugged and started walking the other direction from me. “What I think really doesn’t matter, I guess. Do you even realize that you’ve been grinning all day? I’ve never seen you do that. You always look so serious and intent, but today”—she took her index fingers and tugged up the corners of her own mouth—“you are just one big ball of cheer. That makes me happy for you. I don’t care who put the smile there, Saint, I just care that it stays.”

I was smiling, I hadn’t really thought about it. I was also sore and tired, had a hickey on my collarbone, and my favorite pair of black underwear was in the trash. I would also never be able to rock my knee-high boots again without having X-rated recollections of last night. I still wasn’t a hundred percent sold on the fact I could get involved with a guy who had disappointed me so much in the past, that I could trust all these things he was making me feel about him and about myself, but there was no denying I felt lighter, more normal than I ever had with a guy before.

He was the only one I had managed to have a normal, sexy, and sensual time with and I wanted that, wanted more than that really, if he was willing to offer it up. Not only did I desire this Nash, I think I actually liked him and had to admit that I cared about him. We were so entangled in this entire thorny mess I wasn’t sure how either one of us could get out of it without drawing some kind of blood and suffering pricks of irritation.

I didn’t have the luxury of turning it over in my head to the point of exhaustion. My second shift was just as busy as my first, and by the time I crawled home, I was too tired to function, let alone contemplate what I was going to do about Nash or about us. I worked the next two days in a row, and though I wanted to text Nash or give him a call to let him know I was at least thinking about him, I couldn’t seem to find the right words. On the third day I decided to do something out of the box. I sent him flowers to the tattoo shop, a pretty bouquet of roses in red, yellow, and orange that matched the fire tattooed all over him. The colors were fitting in another way as well. Red meant romance and maybe even love, yellow was kindness and friendship, and the orange passion and enthusiasm … we had those last two covered for sure. I did it partly because the idea of sending a big, tattooed brute of a guy flowers made me laugh, and partly because I wanted to show him that he was on my mind.

I didn’t stop to think if he would think it was dumb, didn’t get insecure or worry about how he would take it. I just did it and sent along a card that simply said: Thanks . I was thankful for the ride, thankful for the night in my bed, and mostly thankful for him just being him. I hoped he would understand all of it.