WtTW- Frisco Sneak Peek (Unedited)

Frisco Matisse sat on the hospital bed, resting his bleeding arm on the sliding table, while Dr. Boston was in the corner prepping the anesthesia. His eyes pierced through me, making my cheeks burn, while my heart started to pump faster. Now, the like on my photo this morning was a coincidence, but him ending up in the emergency room, three hours away from Lockewood was not.

            “Um…” I cleared my throat and grabbed some gloves. “I’m here.”

            “Yeah, what took you so long?” he scolded me.

            My eyes went from Frisco’s eyes to the back of Dr. Boston’s head, back to Frisco’s eyes, who was now raising an eyebrow.

            “You’re not even done prepping the anesthetic. Is there any other nurse here who could do stitches? I hadn’t done stitches in a while.”

            Dr. Boston chuckled, nervously. “I don’t think that’s something you supposed to admit in front of patients, especially when he asked for the best nurse in the building to come and do his sutures.”

            My lips twisted up on their own because he was right, however I needed to get out of this room. He already had me breaking a rule, there was no way I could compose myself enough to do something I hadn’t done in a long time.

            “It’s not, but—”

            “But nothing.”

            He walked back over to the bed with the two syringes.

            “Now, this is going to pinch and burn but only for a moment.”

            He didn’t acknowledge him, but he kept his eyes on me. It seemed as if a big bubble was forming in my chest, trying to make its way up through my throat. While Dr. Boston punctured him up, he kept his eyes on me. What kind of person didn’t at least flinch during a needle stick? Dr. Boston looked from him to me.

            “You two know each other?”

            “No.”

            “Yes.”

            Both him and I responded respectively.

            He chuckled. “Well, which one is it?”

            I shook my head.

            “She knew me well enough to break into my house.”

            My eyes nearly popped out of my head.

            “What?” Dr. Boston turned and looked at me.

            I gasped so hard, that the spit gathering in my mouth, went down the wrong pipe and I started to choke. I was so fucking embarrassed. Not only was I coming undone in front of the Devil, but I’d also choked myself. They both stared at me while I tried to get myself together like an idiot.

            “I’m…” I cleared my throat. “I’m okay. Dr. Boston, I can assure you that he’s joking.”

            “I don’t joke.”

            I wasn’t going to respond because I didn’t want him to keep asking questions about it and it led to him having something to hold over my head because he would do that.

            “Now, you should feel it working,” Dr. Boston said before turning and looking at me. “Maybe five or six stitches and he’ll be okay.”

            “Okay,” I said, nodding my head.

            He’d already done something useful and got the suture kit for me. After sanitizing my hands again, I grabbed a new set of gloves and walked over to the bed. Dr. Boston and I switched places. I thought he was going to leave the room, but he didn’t. He went stood over by the wall. He knew I hated being watched, regardless of my abilities to do something or not, and he was beamed down on me like a hawk. When I looked at Frisco, he was also staring at me, prompting me to look away.

            Oh my God.

            Hypnotizing eyes.

            And he smells so good.

            His Nike Tech pants, and white t-shirt clung to his tall solid body. I followed his tight stomach up to his chest and then back into his eyes, and he was still eying me. They were even lighter under this bright ass hospital light. When he ran his tongue over his bottom lip slightly, I focused back on his arm. The cut on his arm was about two inches long, not that deep. It was almost like it was a perfect surgical cut. Flicking my eyes back to him, he’d slightly lifted his eyebrow. While lusting over him, that ‘M’ on his neck jumped right out at me, knocking me back into reality.

            “Do you need help, Yakima?” Dr. Boston asked.

            “No, I got it.”

            His skin was so beautiful and perfect that I didn’t even want to pierce it with the needle. I could feel his gaze penetrating my skin as put the first suture through.

            “I… I didn’t take anything,” I whispered so Dr. Boston wouldn’t be able to understand what I was saying.

            “I know,” he responded.

            His voice was so low and smooth.

            I looked at him. “So… why are you here?”

            He looked at me and then at his arm. “Because my arm has a cut on it.”

            I wished that he’d stop fucking talking regular and whisper. I didn’t want Dr. Boston hearing anything at all.

            “But there are hospitals in Arkville, where you live. You didn’t have to drive three hours for a cut on your arm.”

            “Why do you think I drove here for a cut? How come I couldn’t have already been here and cut myself?”

            My lips slipped apart but went back together because I didn’t have anything to say because he was correct, but I didn’t believe that for one second. He was here for me, and he knew it. I didn’t believe coincidences like that, but I was also a skeptical overthinker.

            “Can I take you on a date tonight?”

            I mistakenly pierced his skin deeper than expected, making me gasp. When I looked up at him, he was staring at me, with not an ounce of pain on his face.

“No,” I said curtly, and cleared my throat. “My dad is a detective.”

            He smiled, showing off a perfect set of teeth, and a gold diamond grill on the bottom row. It was removable, and he was just as fine without it as he was with it.

            “And just what does that have to do with me, Yakima?”

            The way he said my name I could have melted into a puddle on the floor. I didn’t have a comeback, so I rubbed my lips together.  

            “Yakima, are you finishing up?” Dr. Boston asked, nearly startling me.

            “Yes, I am. I have two left.”

            “Good.”

            Dr. Boston’s phone rang, and he stepped out the room, so I could breathe a little better.

            “You are not a good person…” I looked at his hospital band. “Francisco. Us going out on a date would just be a waste of your money because I am not interested.”

            I looked into his eyes, and he was staring at me like he didn’t understand anything I’d said.

            “You think I’m a bad person?”

            I nodded my head quickly.

            “Why?”

            “You…” I leaned closer to him. “Kill people.”

             “You get any closer to me and I’m going to think that you’re trying to kiss me.”

            “What, no. Isn’t that what you do, though?”

            “What I will tell you, Sweetheart, is that I don’t bother anybody, who don’t bother me first.”

            “I…but…” I pressed my lips together because for the second time, he’d left me speechless.

            I’d finished the last suture just as Dr. Boston walked back in the room.

            “It’s okay to shower, just don’t submerge them. They will dissolve in a week or maybe even less.

            He looked at his arm. “You do well under pressure, Yakima. That’s a great skill.”

            “Thank you, Francisco,” I muttered.

            Carefully, I laid the gauze on his arm, trying my best not to rub the veins that were popping out of his arm. My hands shook a little as I taped it down. I’d never been this nervous before and I’d worked with hundreds of patients.

            “Is there anything else I can do for you, Francisco?”

            “You said no to the date, so there isn’t anything else that you can do for me.”

            “What?” Dr. Boston sniped.

            “He’s joking.”

            He looked taken aback.

            “Oh, my apologies if I’m overstepping, my man,” Francisco coolly said.

            My mouth fell open. “What? No.”

            “I’m misreading, my apologies again.”

            Even though his face was stoic, I felt in my soul that he was loving getting a rise out of me. Walking out of here, tripping and falling would have been less embarrassing. I inhaled and exhaled slowly.

            “Mr. Matisse, if there isn’t anything else that I can do for you, you can go out, to your right and get checked out.

            I pulled my gloves off and set them down on the tray. The way he blinked and smirked at me, let me know that he was happy with himself for rattling me the way he did. I didn’t even give him a chance to respond before I walked out of the room. As soon as I was out in the hallway, my chest started to relax, and it was much easier to breathe. I was so thankful for the next few days off so I wouldn’t have to be near Dr. Boston, but I did applaud myself for being able to work under immense pressure.