Love Is Blind Read Free

it.”
    “Um…”
    “Yeah I know, I know, I can’t see,” he shrugged.  “That’s the beauty of it.  I can imagine you’re wearing whatever I damn well please.   So as far as I’m concerned, your candy striper uniform is a tight, short little –”
    “Actually,” I interrupted, cutting him off mid-sentence, “Spare me the details.”  I shifted uncomfortably where I sat and smoothed my hand over my hair self-consciously, thankful that Chris couldn’t see the expression on my face.
    “Yes ma’am,” he agreed.  “ I’ll just keep the deliciously naughty details to myself…my own filthy little fantasy.  So what’s so bad about your uniform?” he asked again.
    “It’s all starchy and stiff and the collar is making me itch like crazy.  Want to trade?”
    “Yes please,” he said immediately, without missing a beat.  “Don’t you think that would make the doctor’s day if he came in during his rounds and found me wearing your candy striper uniform?  It’s a dress, right?” 
    I giggled.  “Yes, and white tights and the ugliest shoes in the world.”
    “I think I like my borderline illegal version of your uniform better,” he joked.  “In any event, I don’t think I have the legs to pull off a dress.  I’m sure you look better in it than I ever would, so let’s just keep our clothes on.”
    My face reddened at the innuendo even though I was fairly sure it had been unintentional.  Chris’s flirtation was harmless and innocent, the product of a young red blooded male stuck alone in a hospital room for hours on end.  I didn’t blame him one bit. 
    But the things he said nonetheless rattled me.  No one had ever flirted with me in my life.  Even though flattery about my appearance didn’t mean much coming from a blind guy, it still made me blush because it was something so foreign to me.  Despite feeling flustered I found myself wanting the banter to continue, wishing I knew how to flirt back.
    “ So…what made you decide to be a candy striper?” he asked.
    “Well it’s not like a career choice or anything,” I explained quickly, keeping my answer intentionally vague.  “I’m just doing it until the end of the summer.  I’m hoping to go to college in the fall if I can afford it.  That’s kind of been my big dream since, well…since I was a kid.”
    “That’s all very interesting,” Chris replied, “but it doesn’t answer the question.  Why, if you’re trying to save money for college, are you volunteering at the hospit al?  Candy striping doesn’t pay anything, does it?”
    “No.”
    “So…?  Do you need the volunteer experience for a resume or application or something?”
    “Not really.”  I was being rather evasive, hoping Chris would get the message and stop pressing me for an answer.  Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.  Well, maybe he got the message, but he didn’t stop pressing me for an answer.
    “Are you some kind of saintly do-gooder type who’s infuriatingly perfect and makes everyone else look bad in comparison?”
    I snorted.  “Not even close.”
    “Good, those people are annoying.”
    I grinned.  His bluntness was sort of refreshing. 
    He leaned forward, elbows on knees, looking enthralled.  His half-eaten burger sat beside him, momentarily forgotten.  “Come on, give me something to work with,” he begged.  “I’m all for playing twenty questions but I’m running out of guesses.  Or at least guesses that have some basis in reality.  You’re not a zombie alien from another planet sent here to kill us all with bad hospital food, are you?”
    “No…not the last time I checked, anyway.  Now I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed by the real answer because it isn’t heroic or exciting or even interesting.  Actually, it’s kind of embarrassing.” 
    “Well now I’m intrigued.  Spit it out!”
    “I, um…”  I took a deep breath and then before I could lose my nerve, blurted out, “I’m doing community