More Than a Kiss Read Free Page A

sitting on my chest licking his butt."
    Amy
chuckled.  "Why don't you get out of that bloody shirt?"  She peeled
off her latex gloves and tossed them into a white can sitting on the floor. 
"Throw it in there."
    Jordan
looked at the symbol on top of the trashcan.  "Because I'm a
biohazard?"
    "Pretty
much.  I'll find you another shirt to wear and be right back."  She
swished aside the curtain, drawing it closed behind her and went in search of
the supplies she needed.

The Mole
     
    Amy
rounded a corner of the hospital hallway just as Jeremy did and he crashed into
her.
    Meet
Dr. Jeremy Blevins.  
Jeremy was tall and skinny and had his hair pulled back in a ponytail.  He
looked like he had never outgrown the garage band look of his teen years. 
Jeremy was Amy's roommate and whenever she needed a last minute date to
chaperone her somewhere, he was always available.  As long as there was free
food.  It was a give-and-take system that had worked well for them for several
years.
    "I
heard you had a hottie come in," Jeremy said.  "Wanna trade
patients?"
    Amy
sighed.  If Jeremy wanted to trade patients it meant he had somebody really
bad.  "Who do you have?"
    "Mrs.
Markus," he said.  "She thinks her mole is changing colors
again."
    Amy
grimaced.  "No thanks."
    "No,
you should really see it this time.  It is a different color, I swear. 
It's green today.  Last week it was magenta."
    "Maybe
it's a mood mole," Amy said.  She looked closer at Jeremy.  His eyes were
bloodshot and glassy.  "How long have you been on?"
    He
squinted at his watch and moved his lips in silent calculation.  "Sixteen
hours and counting.  Why, you need some help?"
    "Go
home," Amy said.  "You look like homemade poop."
    "I
believe the metaphor is homemade soap," he corrected.
    "It's
not a metaphor it's a simile."
    Jeremy
wagged his finger in her face.  "I know what you're doing.  You're trying
to distract me from the hottie."
    Amy
answered, "I hate the term hottie."
    “No,
you don’t,” Jeremy said.  “You only hate it that I didn’t call you a hottie.”
    Jeremy
dodged Amy’s playful swat.  He laughed and walked backwards down the hallwaysaying with an ominous vampire accent, "Don't be
late for supper.  Isabel is preparing dinner.”
    Isabel
was their other roommate.  You will meet her later in the story.  Isabel was a
budding chef.  She liked to try out exotic recipes and Amy and Jeremy were her
human guinea pigs.
    Amy
wrinkled her nose in disgust.  "You go home first.  Text me if she's
boiling organ meat again, and I'll smuggle in some fast food."
    “You’re
looking pretty perky for pulling a double shift in the emergency room,” he
said.  “If I didn't know better, it almost seems like you’re, oh, what’s the
word?”  He snapped his fingers.  “Happy.”
    “It’s
just a figment of your addled and sleep-deprived brain.   Go make Mrs. Markus
happy and see if her mole turns blue.”

Low Blood Sugar
     
    Back
in the E.R. cubicle, Amy watched in amusement as Jordan tried to put on the
green scrub top with only one hand.  So far, she had her injured hand through one
ofthe shirt's armholesand
her head sticking out the other.  She was attempting to worm her way out of the
mess, but wasn't having much success.  Unless she was trying for a straightjacket
effect in which case she was having terrific success.
    "Alittlehelphere?"
Jordan mumbled with her mouth full of shirt.
    Amy
gently pulled the scrub top over Jordan's head and then not-so-gently pushed
her head back through the proper hole.
    "Thanks,
Doc," Jordan said. "Usually people are trying to get me out of my
clothes, not put me in them."
    There
was a split-second where Amy was shocked.  Then she quickly covered her
expression and smiled in an overly polite way.  The blood pounded in her ears. 
She knew if she were to take her own pulse right now it would be racing.
    "Whoops,"
Jordan said, "TMI.  Maybe you can test me for Asperger's while I'm