Freya hated that he was right. She was already looking forward to Wednesday, and it was only Sunday. Get a grip, Anderson, she chided herself. Out loud, she said, "We'll see about that, Sergeant Foster. I've still got time to come to my senses."
Dan's smirk widened, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on, Doc. We both know you're dying to see what I look like when I'm not bleeding all over your A&E."
Freya rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched with amusement. "Maybe I just want to make sure you can go a whole evening without needing medical attention," she shot back.
She took a sip of her drink, using the moment to gather her thoughts. Part of her wanted to play it cool, to not let Dan see how much she was looking forward to their date. But another part, a louder part, was tired of the games.
The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor made Freya's eyes ache as she slumped onto a chair in the staff break room. She'd been on her feet for five hours straight, dealing with everything from a kid who'd shoved a Lego up his nose to a drunk who'd managed to dislocate his own shoulder while attempting to recreate a TikTok dance.Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Freya fished it out, expecting another text from Emily demanding more gossip. Instead, her heart did a little flip when she saw Dan's name on the screen.Dan: Enjoyed our lunch, Doctor Anderson. Counting down the days until Wednesday. Hope you're not stitching up too many idiots tonight.A grin spread across Freya's face as she typed her reply.Freya: The night is you
Freya pocketed her phone with a mix of relief and frustration. Dan would have to wait. She hurried to bay three, where an elderly man was complaining of chest pains. As she assessed him, her mind kept drifting back to Dan's text.'Focus, Freya,' she chided herself. 'Lives to save, remember?'But even as she ordered an ECG, a part of her was composing replies in her head. By the time she finished with the patient, she'd settled on a response. She pulled out her phone.Freya: I think you're fishing for compliments, Sergeant Foster. But don't worry, your ego is safe with me.She hit send, then immediately second-guessed herself. Too coy? Not flirty enough? Before she could overthink it further, another trauma came in. Freya pocketed her phone and rushed to
Emily strode into the gleaming lobby of Mitchell Financial, her heels clicking decisively on the polished marble. The usual receptionists and junior associates greeted her with warm smiles, used to seeing the fiancée of their star Ryan Mitchell."Evening, Ms. Carter," called out Janice from the front desk. "Surprising Ryan?"Emily flashed a tight smile, her stomach fluttering with anticipation. "You know me, can't stay away." She made her way to the elevator, mind racing. It had been weeks since she'd seen Ryan outside of hurried dinners and distracted phone calls. His big merger was finally wrapping up and her massive project was finally done and dusted - time to celebrate and reconnect.The elevator dinged open on the executive floor. Emily's heels sunk into plush carpeting as she approached Ryan's corner office. Muffled sounds filtered through the heavy oak door. Was that...?Emily's hand froze on the doorknob. A woman's breathy moan. Rhythmic thumping. "Oh fuck," she whispered.
The clink of glass against the marble countertop echoed through Sophia's cozy kitchen as she poured a generous glass of ruby-red Merlot. Emily's mascara-streaked face stared blankly ahead, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed."Fuck it," Sophia muttered, setting down the glass and grabbing the entire bottle instead. She pressed the cool glass into Emily's trembling hands. "You need this more than I do, babe."Emily's fingers curled around the bottle's neck, her engagement ring noticeably absent. The weight of it felt both comforting and dangerous - a lifeline and a weapon all at once. She took a long swig, relishing the warmth as it slid down her throat."I can't believe that bastard," Emily choked out, her voice raw from crying. "After everything we've been through..."Sophia perched on the kitchen stool beside her, placing a reassuring hand on Emily's shoulder. "He’s a fucking idiot, Em. You deserve so much better than that cheating asshole."Emily's mind raced, replaying the horrific scen
Emily stared blankly at the TV, a week after the break up and her third day in a row wearing Sophia's oversized pajamas. The bottle of wine on the coffee table was already half empty.Sophia bustled into the living room, keys jangling. "Alright, Em. Enough wallowing. We're going out tonight."Emily groaned. "I don't think I can face people yet. My mascara's probably fused to my face at this point.""That's why showers exist, honey." Sophia plopped down next to her. "Come on, a few drinks will do you good. Get you out of this funk."Emily's stomach churned at the thought. But Sophia's determined look told her resistance was futile. "Fine. But I'm not wearing heels. Or anything that requires a bra.""Deal." Sophia grinned. "We'll hit up The Iron Horse. No one there gives a shit what you look like."As they got ready, Emily caught her reflection in the mirror. Christ, I look like death warmed over. But maybe that was fitting. The old Emily had died the moment she opened that office door.
The smell hit Emily like a freight train - stale beer, cigarette smoke, and something distinctly mechanical. Her nose wrinkled involuntarily."Jesus, Soph. Are you trying to get us killed?" Emily muttered, eyeing the leather-clad patrons.Sophia just laughed, leading them to the bar. "Two rounds of five shots. Your strongest stuff," she told the bartender, slapping down some cash.Emily's eyes widened. "Are you insane? We'll be on our asses before midnight.""That's the point, babe. Now shut up and drink."As the bartender lined up the shots, Emily felt eyes on her. She tugged at her dress self-consciously, wishing she'd worn jeans instead.Sophia leaned in close, her breath tickling Emily's ear. "Stop fidgeting. Every person in this joint thinks you're smoking hot."Emily snorted. "Yeah, right. I look like a librarian who took a wrong turn.""Trust me," Sophia said, grabbing the first shot. "You're turning heads. Now let's get fucked up and forget about that cheating bastard."Emily
Emily raised her shot glass, the cheap tequila sloshing dangerously close to the rim. "Another round for us ladies," she announced with a crooked grin. "Care to join, mystery man?"Lucas' eyes crinkled with amusement as he regarded the two women. The dim bar lighting cast shadows across his rugged features, making him look even more intriguing. "Isn't it a bit odd, drinking with someone old enough to be your father?"Emily's heart skipped a beat. Fuck, he was hot for an older guy. She tried to keep her cool, but her cheeks flushed traitorously.Sophia, ever the wingwoman, jumped in with a smirk. "Odd isn't the word I'd use. More like... intriguing." She winked at Emily, who rolled her eyes.Emily managed a shy smile, her gaze locked on Lucas. The tequila had loosened her up, but she still felt a flutter of nerves. What the hell was she doing, flirting with this guy? But after the week she'd had, she deserved a little fun."Age is just a number," Emily quipped, raising her glass. "You
Emily popped the caps off two beers, the familiar hiss and sharp scent filling her small kitchen. She handed one to Lucas with a coy smile, then hoisted herself onto the countertop."Cheers," she said, clinking her bottle against his. As Emily sipped the cold beer, she began unlacing her boots, hyper-aware of Lucas' eyes on her. The hem of her dress inched higher, revealing more of her thighs. As she bent to pull off her second boot, she felt Lucas move closer. When she looked up, he was standing between her parted knees, his piercing blue eyes locked on hers.Her heart raced. Fuck it, she thought. I deserve this.Without hesitation, Emily reached up and pulled Lucas into a searing kiss. He tasted of beer, his stubble was rough against her skin. As his strong hands gripped her waist, drawing her to the edge of the counter, a small voice in Emily's mind whispered a warning. But the heat of Lucas' body and the intoxicating rush of desire drowned it out completely.Lucas' lips crashed
Freya pocketed her phone with a mix of relief and frustration. Dan would have to wait. She hurried to bay three, where an elderly man was complaining of chest pains. As she assessed him, her mind kept drifting back to Dan's text.'Focus, Freya,' she chided herself. 'Lives to save, remember?'But even as she ordered an ECG, a part of her was composing replies in her head. By the time she finished with the patient, she'd settled on a response. She pulled out her phone.Freya: I think you're fishing for compliments, Sergeant Foster. But don't worry, your ego is safe with me.She hit send, then immediately second-guessed herself. Too coy? Not flirty enough? Before she could overthink it further, another trauma came in. Freya pocketed her phone and rushed to
The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor made Freya's eyes ache as she slumped onto a chair in the staff break room. She'd been on her feet for five hours straight, dealing with everything from a kid who'd shoved a Lego up his nose to a drunk who'd managed to dislocate his own shoulder while attempting to recreate a TikTok dance.Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Freya fished it out, expecting another text from Emily demanding more gossip. Instead, her heart did a little flip when she saw Dan's name on the screen.Dan: Enjoyed our lunch, Doctor Anderson. Counting down the days until Wednesday. Hope you're not stitching up too many idiots tonight.A grin spread across Freya's face as she typed her reply.Freya: The night is you
Freya hated that he was right. She was already looking forward to Wednesday, and it was only Sunday. Get a grip, Anderson, she chided herself. Out loud, she said, "We'll see about that, Sergeant Foster. I've still got time to come to my senses."Dan's smirk widened, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on, Doc. We both know you're dying to see what I look like when I'm not bleeding all over your A&E."Freya rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched with amusement. "Maybe I just want to make sure you can go a whole evening without needing medical attention," she shot back.She took a sip of her drink, using the moment to gather her thoughts. Part of her wanted to play it cool, to not let Dan see how much she was looking forward to their date. But another part, a louder part, was tired of the games.
Freya's apartment looked like a fashion bomb had detonated. Clothes were strewn across every surface, a chaotic testament to her indecision. She stood in front of her mirror, critically eyeing the yellow knee-length dress she'd finally settled on."Fuck," she muttered, running a hand through her short auburn hair. "When did I turn into such a goddamn teenager?"Her phone buzzed, Emily's name flashing on the screen.Freya: Can't talk. About to leave for lunch with Dan.Emily: Get it, girl! 🔥Freya: Christ, Em. It's just lunch.Emily: At the Rusty Anchor. "Just lunch" my ass.
As they waited for Emily to bring the car around, Freya found herself studying Dan's profile. The dim bar lighting cast shadows across his face, highlighting the strong line of his jaw. She mentally shook herself. Focus, Anderson."You know," Dan said, breaking into her thoughts, "this wasn't exactly how I planned on spending more time with you tonight."Freya raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what exactly did you have in mind?"Dan's grin was both charming and infuriating. "Well, it involved a lot less blood and a lot more dancing.""Smooth talker," Freya muttered, ignoring the warmth spreading through her chest. "Save it for someone who isn't about to be elbow-deep in your arm, yeah?"Freya hesitated for a moment, her
The car pulled up to the bar, its neon sign casting a blue glow across their faces. As they climbed out, the crisp night air hit Freya like a slap, chasing away the last dregs of her earlier exhaustion.Dan sidled up next to her, his voice low. "Grab a drink with me?"Freya's pulse quickened. She glanced at Emily, catching the knowing smirk on her friend's face. Fuck it, she thought. "Sure, why not?"They pushed through the crowded entrance, the bass thumping through Freya's chest. She couldn't help but notice how Dan's hand hovered near the small of her back, not quite touching but close enough to send tingles up her spine."What's your poison?" Dan asked, leaning in close to be heard over the music.Freya grinned, a wicked glint in her eye. "Surprise me. Just nothing that'll land me in my own A&E, yeah?"Dan laughed, a rich sound that cut through the noise. "No glass shards, got it. One non-lethal surprise, coming up."As he turned towards the bar, Freya caught Emily's gaze across t
Freya shook her head, chuckling despite herself. "You know, you were one of only two sober people I had come through last night." She paused, remembering the bizarre parade of drunken mishaps. "The other poor bastard fell down the stairs and broke his ankle. Stone-cold sober, just spectacularly clumsy."Dan raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "So what you're saying is, I was the most interesting patient you had all night?""Don't flatter yourself," Freya retorted, fighting back a grin. "I'd take clumsy stair guy over your macho bar fight nonsense any day."She could feel Emily's eyes on her in the rearview mirror, practically radiating smugness. Freya studiously avoided her friend's gaze, focusing instead on the passing streetlights of Seabridge. The familiar scent of salt and p
Freya's bedroom was dark and quiet, the blackout curtains doing their job to keep out the morning sun. She collapsed onto her bed, not even bothering to change out of her clothes. As she drifted off, her last coherent thought was of Dan's hand in hers as she'd examined his cuts.Seven hours later, Freya's eyes cracked open, her body protesting the meagre amount of sleep. She fumbled for her phone, squinting at the bright screen. 1:07 PM glared back at her, along with a string of notifications. One name jumped out: Emily.Freya swiped open the message, her heart rate picking up slightly.Emily: Heard through the grapevine (aka Lucas) that you played Florence Nightingale to our favorite ex-army medic last night. Spill the tea, darling! 🍵👀
Ten minutes later, Freya leaned back, surveying her handiwork. Dan's arm looked like a patchwork quilt of gauze and sutures, but the bleeding had stopped and the worst of the damage was dealt with."All done," she announced, peeling off her gloves with a satisfying snap. "Keep those dressings on for a couple days. The stitches will dissolve in about a week." She paused, a wry smile playing on her lips. "But I'm sure you know that already, Mr. Army Medic."Dan flexed his arm experimentally, wincing slightly. "It's been a while since I've been on this side of things," he admitted. "Forgot how much it sucks."Freya snorted, her eyes dancing with amusement. "What, getting sliced up by flying bottles isn't your idea of a good time? And here I thought you military types were all about the danger."