The Biker's Private Nurse
His face remains blank, eyes fixed on the fire like I’m invisible.
“Pulse steady,” I murmur, scribbling in my notes. “Pressure next.”
When I reach for his arm, he shifts slightly, making it harder to secure the cuff. Not enough to stop me. Just enough to remind me he can.
I grit my teeth, adjusting until I manage it. The reading is fine. More than fine, actually. He’s recovering well. But I don’t say that. I don’t give him the satisfaction.
“Blood pressure is normal,” I report.