Page 6 of Jordan’s Breakthrough (Unexpected Love #3)

MILES

T he room is quiet when I reach the nurse’s station on the third floor. Almost too quiet. Lights flicker under the cabinets near the printer, making it feel like I’m in a creepy dystopian movie or something. Even the hallways are darker than usual, making it difficult to see who is walking by.

That’s the downfall of working second shift, though. The lights are always dim near the patient rooms at night, so not to disturb anyone’s sleep. I mean, I get it, but it still messes with my head.

Today has been especially annoying. Not annoying because it’s busy.

Annoying because the hours are dragging.

Every hour has felt like three, and all I want to do is take a hot shower, eat the last of my salted caramel ice cream, and curl up in bed.

And maybe make my Sims woo-hoo again. Because, come on.

At least one of us has to get some action.

Yawning, I pull a seat out by Ana and turn to face her.

David is on the other side. They’re too busy typing up notes to pay any attention to me, so I fling a rubber band at Ana.

She gives me the side eye. A pink fabric bandana covers her short blond hair, adding a pop of color to our otherwise boring blue scrubs.

“Are you over this day as much as I am?” I ask.

She shoots the rubber band back.

I catch it mid-air. “It’s gone on for an eternity.”

She chuckles. “And then some.”

“This whole week feels long,” David agrees.

“Right! Hey, at least you’re off soon. I still have two hours.”

“Three, actually,” David says.

I blink at him. “What?”

“Three hours. It’s only nine o’clock.”

I whirl around to look at the clock. “Dammit. Why do you have to ruin my hopes and dreams like that?”

He chuckles. “Sorry.”

I slump in the chair. Most days, I love my job. I really do. But this week has been especially brutal. Not having Sophie around means my mind dwells on patients instead of… well, not-work things. I can’t relax.

Maybe I should get more yarn, even if Jordan doesn’t want to learn. If I end up with too many mice, well, I’ll just coax Jordan’s mailing address out of him and send him some.

The idea makes me squirm.

“What are you smiling about?” Ana asks.

“Nothing.” I twirl around in the chair. “Hey, do you have a library card?”

Ana wrinkles her nose. “Why would I have a library card?”

“To borrow books. You know, to read. People still do that, believe it or not.”

“I meant why would I have a library card if I don’t live here? David might have one.”

I flash David my most charming smile. “Do you have a library card?”

“Yes,” he says slowly.

“Would you let me borrow it while I’m here?” I clasp my hands together for good measure. “Pretty please?”

The older guy hesitates, then cracks a tiny smile before pulling it from his wallet. “Just don’t return the books late or I’ll hunt you down. And I need it back before next weekend. My daughter likes to go there when it’s her turn to stay with me.”

“You’ll have it back after tomorrow. Scout’s honor.”

After a few minutes, Ana logs off. “Well, not to rub it in, boys, but—”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re off.”

David stands too. “I’m off as well.”

“You’re both leaving me?” I groan. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll just waste away dreaming about the books I’m going to get.”

Ana laughs. “Hang in there, Miles.”

“See ya.”

After tucking the library card into my wallet, I check the computer for updates on the patients. With nothing to do, I wander the wide loop of our floor to peek in the windows to see if anyone is awake.

Ruth is, of course.

I crack the door and smile at her. “Hey, hon.”

Ruth looks up as I enter the room.

“How ya doin’?”

“Oh, I’ve been better.”

I touch her shoulder. “Yeah? How’s your pain?”

“Same.”

“Did they do an ultrasound for kidney stones?”

I know they did, but I’m trying to see if Ruth is aware of what’s going on too.

“Yes. They didn’t find anything.”

After checking her chart, I take her pulse at her wrist. She loves the physical contact. “Well, you seem stronger every time I see you, so something must be working.”

It’s not entirely true. Her energy levels have been unstable the last two days, but a big part of my job is convincing patients they’re doing well. If they believe it, it usually becomes true. Usually.

“Has your daughter come for a visit yet?”

When Ruth looks away, my heart sinks.

I squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry. But I’m here, and right now, I don’t have anywhere to be. So, what are we watching?” I glance at the TV and immediately reach for a chair. “Oh! Golden Girls! I would’ve come sooner if I’d known.”

She laughs. “Why am I not surprised you’re a fan?”

“Hell yeah, I am. I’m Dorothy all the way.”

Ruth caps her pink highlighter.

“Have you always liked word searches?”

She shrugs. “It’s something to do.”

“How about crochet?” I ask on a whim.

“Pardon?”

“Do you crochet? Or knit? I can bring you some yarn, if you want. For something else to do.”

She blinks at me. “You’re too sweet, Miles.”

I grin. “Which do you prefer? Crochet hook or knitting needles?”

“Oh, I can’t do it anymore. My hands, you know. I can barely handle this most days. But your offer is so kind.”

I touch her arm and remind myself to buy some word search books, at the very least.

We turn back to the TV. Within minutes of watching the show, Ruth’s eyes get heavy. I suspect she’s only a night owl because she doesn’t like being alone. Nights are harder for her. It makes me wonder why her family hasn’t visited.

When she’s finally asleep, I place her book on the rolling table within her reach and fix her blankets. Then I quietly slip from the room and wander back to the nurse’s station. It’s still empty. The other two night nurses must be on a separate wing of the floor.

Which means it’s going to be a long ass night.

Leaning against the counter, I pull my phone out.

I try not to be on it when I’m at work, but sometimes, I just can’t help it.

And yes, I’m secretly hoping Jordan will message me again.

It’s been three days, and I don’t know if he’s waiting on me to write him or if he’s just not interested.

Maybe he doesn’t want an online friendship like I do.

What does that say about me? Am I really so lonely that I’m aching for an online friendship?

Whatever the reason for his silence, I haven’t been able to archive our conversation yet. There’s just something about him.

When I open Messenger, I’m surprised to see his name in bold. A new message!

Jordan: You there?

Two words, sent over an hour ago and without any sort of context, yet they make my heart flutter.

I grin stupidly as I type back: Yes… and no. At work, so I can only talk in between patients. What’s up?

The light by his name indicates Jordan is offline, but I stare at the message anyway, dying to know what he wanted. Just to chat? Did he have a question? What?

“Talk. To. Me!” I whisper shout. “Please!”

When a reply doesn’t come, I sigh and return to work, but I can’t stop thinking about Jordan for the rest of my shift, discretely checking my phone whenever I get a chance.

I even sneak a peek—or three—at his profile, my curiosity getting dangerously out of control.

But Jordan is one of those super private guys where things are only visible to his friends.

Annoying… and admirable. I’m the same way.

By the time I’m off, I’m convinced he hadn’t meant to message me at all. He probably doesn’t want to keep talking to me. Maybe he’s moved on.

Wouldn’t that be my luck? To get attached to someone who doesn’t want me back?

I’m always the last chosen out of a lineup.

That’s how I became a travel nurse. After getting my license, I’d applied for a dozen stationary positions in my hometown, and when I didn’t land a job, I said screw it and made my own way.

As difficult as it can be, especially without my travel partner, I still love what I do. The pay is amazing, the frequent changes keep me interested, and I love meeting new people. Most of the time, anyway.

I just wish this job didn’t make dating so damn difficult. No one wants to commit knowing it’ll be a long-distance relationship in a few weeks. It might have something to do with my round belly and bulky glasses too, but I try not to think about that. The long distance is also a legit reason.

I take a Lyft to the hotel, then kick off my shoes and grab the carton of ice cream from the mini fridge. Plopping down on the couch, I let out a dramatic sigh.

“Hello, my sweet. I’ve waited all day for you.”

The ice cream doesn’t reply. Rude.

I open it and take a bite, trying to get comfortable. As far as hotel sofas go, I’ve had better. But at least this isn’t one of those fold-out, hide-a-bed monstrosities. Those things were designed in hell, I swear.

My phone buzzes, and I nearly drop the ice cream when I see Jordan’s name. He’s awake at one in the morning?

Jordan: Sorry, was at work. Messaged earlier when I was on lunch break.

Oh. Well, that makes sense. Why do I always jump to the wrong conclusion? Maybe because every other guy has ghosted me?

Me: It’s ok. Though I’m surprised to hear from you. It’s kinda late here…

Jordan: I’m a bartender. So I get home late when I close (we close at midnight).

Wait, we work similar hours?

I take another bite before replying, letting the small chunk of sweet goodness melt on my tongue.

Me: Gotcha. Did you have a good night?

Jordan: Yeah. You?

Me: It was long, but… eh, mostly okay. Got to hang out with a favorite patient a few times.

I don’t hear from him for a few minutes, so I eat some more ice cream. It’s embarrassing how many times I reread the conversation. Something about him intrigues me. Does he feel the same?

Finally, my phone buzzes.

Jordan: You can’t hear me, but I’m cursing your name…

I smirk.

Me: Oh? Should I be worried?

Jordan sends a picture, and it takes a moment to understand what I’m looking at. Inside a brown plastic bag is a skein of green yarn and a package of four crochet hooks.

My jaw drops.