Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 9

sister?"
    "Germany. She's at some big trade show for her company. She won't be back until next weekend." James looked hopefully at Eli. "Will the stitches be out by then? Maybe she won't notice."
    Eli raised an eyebrow. "Unless she's totally oblivious, she's going to notice an inch long scar on her son's forehead. Besides, the stitches won't come out for at least ten days." He snapped on his gloves and got ready. "You're up the creek."
    When Eli finished, it was after eight thirty. He gave a few last instructions and took off down the hall before the kid's uncle could say anything. He needed a cigarette, and Ngo had better be on duty or he'd rue the day he met Eli.
    As soon as he confirmed the other doctor was there, Eli grabbed his stuff from his office, tossed his lab coat on the chair, and was digging out his cigarettes and lighter before he was out the door. The minute it closed behind him, he lit up, took a deep drag, and paused to exhale before he headed to his car. Twenty hours before he had to be back and he intended to spend nineteen of it in bed, asleep.
    He leaned against the car and took another couple of drags on the cigarette. He never smoked in his car; one of those things other smokers thought was weird. He rarely smoked in his apartment either. Old habits die hard. Nate used to throw a fit if he did, and even though Nate'd been gone for two years, Eli still stood on the balcony to smoke.
    For a few minutes he enjoyed the sounds of the city; it wasn't that bad here in California. Then another ambulance came screaming into the emergency entrance, sirens and lights blaring, and Eli shook his head. He was getting the hell out of Dodge before they called him back. "Beam me up, Scotty." He muttered under his breath. Ah, if only transporters existed. To be zapped home in seconds would be amazing.
    James shook his head as he drove. What a clusterfuck of a night. He'd even stopped and picked up McDonald's as they'd never gotten to the noodles he was making. Abby was already going to kill him, so introducing the kid to some good old artery hardening transfats didn't seem like that big of a crime.
    As Dedrick enjoyed his first taste of McNuggets in the back seat, James thought back on the experience at the hospital. He couldn't believe how long it had taken them to get help. That was outrageous. What was the point of having emergency rooms, if you couldn't get help when you had an emergency? And Dr. Snarkyass Hottie-dude? What a jerk. He'd actually thought James'd hurt Dedrick on purpose. That was ridiculous. He'd throw himself off the Golden Gate Bridge before he let anyone hurt his nephew or any of his family.
    Logically, James knew the guy was right. As a teacher he'd seen his share of kids with unexplained bruising and mysterious broken limbs. He's even reported a couple to the authorities, as he was obligated to do, but it still sucked to have someone look at you with suspicion. On the upside, at least the guy gave a damn about kids. That couldn't be all bad. And his eyes were blue, really blue. And, oh my God, those arms. Okay, even if he was an asshole, he was still hot.
    It had been too long since James had had anything regular. Sure he went out now and then and hit a club, but he just couldn't seem to get motivated to seriously look for someone longer term. He wanted a boyfriend, he did, maybe even kids – he glanced back and watched Dedrick smearing barbecue sauce on his car seat – but with his job and helping out Abby when she had to go out of town, he just didn't have time. Yeah, denial was a wonderful thing.
    Oh well, he'd add the hottie doctor to the spank bank and just edit out the rolling eyes, snarky attitude and gritted teeth.
    ****
    Eli closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall outside of the hospital doors, well beyond the no-smoking limit. He slit one eye open as he watched the flame of the lighter touch the tip of the cigarette, then inhaled. The rush of nicotine through his system felt familiar and comforting, even as his lungs burned from the smoke.
    It had been another shit day. The last three or four days had been crap, but today topped it off. He slammed his free hand against the brick wall at his back when he thought about the toddler with a skull fracture in intensive care. He knew they'd be pulling the plug in the next few hours, as soon as they could sober up one of her parents long enough to get them to sign off on the organ donation form. Both of them had sat there,