"See you tomorrow, Michelle!" I waved a hand towards our receptionist in response as she departed, hurriedly finishing my charting for our previous patient. It had been the last of the day, but for a last-minute booking the doctor had allowed.
I grabbed a new pair of gloves, and rushed around the corner, rapping my knuckles against it twice before stepping into the frigid exam room. It's not like I hadn't seen the business end of every vagina under the sun at that point, but it was always good to let the patient know you were coming.
At 5:45, it was technically after our "business hours", but Dr. Livingston (or Flynn, as he insisted I call him outside the office) was always so generous and kind-hearted with his time, he wouldn't refuse to see a patient in need.
He'd messaged me through the system, asking me to stay back as a favor- and how could I refuse? In the few months I'd been working at his practice, he'd made it clear that I was his favorite nurse, the only one he really trusted to care for his patients, the only one he took to lunch and mentored after-hours, even confided in about his divorce in-process.
He needed help, so he came to me.
It had given me a blossoming of warm feelings in the pit of my stomach.
I would never admit it to the other girls, but despite my much-vaunted professionalism, I fancied him despite the ring on his finger. His thick, sometimes wild hair and stern jawline, physically fit and handsome in the way that only refined older men could be.
I paused, letting the door latch behind me. Flynn was tapping away at the exam room computer, but there was no sign of the patient. Not abnormal for someone to be running late, but if they were specially scheduled in, it was a little rude to keep us waiting.
"Flynn-" I corrected myself, we were still in the office, after all. "Dr. Livingston, do you want me to give the patient a call?" I drew close behind him and peered over his shoulder at the charting system.
Patient is in prime ovulation window for impregnation, provided BBT readings are-
"Michelle, how many times do I have to tell you, Flynn is fine." He pivoted towards me on his chair, the creases in his face softening as he looked up at me, his piercing blue eyes finding mine, holding me mesmerized for the briefest of moments, only an inch from my face.
His scent was intense, a light cologne mixed with the natural smell of his body after a day of work. His skin was perfect, unblemished but for a few freckles. I had to bite my lip to keep from professing my infatuation as I stood up straighter.
"
Flynn
then, do you want me to call the patient?" I smiled at him, we were still close.
"I'm going to be totally up front with you, Michelle, there
is no
patient." He grinned back at me. "I just wanted to get everyone else out of the office so I could spend some time with my favorite RN." I felt a blush rising in my cheeks, heat on my neck at his words.
"R-really? You wanted me?" I took a tiny step back as he rose from his chair, extending his hands at waist level for me to grasp, as though he were a priest offering comfort.
"I want to get to know you, as more than just coworkers." I took his hands, feeling the flush creep up my face with astonishment at his forwardness.
I hesitated for a moment, then a few seconds. I was aware of how close he was, of how much stronger his hands were than mine. He could easily subdue me, and despite myself I felt a twinge of fear at being alone in the office with him.
I again looked up into his eyes, feeling a touch of pressure to draw me closer.
"I feel like we work so closely, it's only fair that we have a little bit more of a personal connection." His grip loosened on my hands. "Unless you're not interested..." He trailed off, and I felt a note of sadness in his voice, a pang of regret and rejection.
"No!" I almost choked, fearing the door between me and my very own version of Dr. Dreamy was closing. I gripped his hands tighter, and angled my face up towards him, a clear offer, a clear provocation. "I-I'd like that, Flynn."
He pulled me into him, letting my hands fall as he moved his strong hands down to my hips.
"You have strong birthing hips, Michelle, that's something I've always loved about you." I felt his fingers exploring my waistline over my scrubs, our breath mingling, almost close enough for our lips to touch.
My hands were flat on his chest, feeling his lung function making it rise and fall. They were like bellows, strong and consistent, if perhaps a little strained by-
"How do
