Bisexual Pharmacist Gets Picked Up by a Stranger (1)

I had just landed my first pharmacist job near San Diego and had been working there for about a month.

At twenty-five, that meant I worked closing shifts, weekends, and on that particular night, both.

Lucky me.

As always, I tried to look professional, my long dark-blonde hair pulled into a messy bun, business clothes tucked beneath my lab coat.

I wore high heels, a decision I deeply regretted after being on my feet for hours without a break.

Even after the privately owned pharmacy had closed, I was still behind the counter dealing with insurance issues.

I was exhausted but needed to finish a few last things before leaving.

Nathan, the front clerk, was supposed to lock the door while customers filtered out.

My hair was falling loose, my back ached, and I was in no mood for mistakes.

The door buzzer sounded, signaling the last customer had finally left.

Or so I thought.

As I focused on my work, I felt someone nearby.

I silently prayed it was just Nathan straightening something.

Without