Full Strength

Five-Logan 🏒

Two hours ago, a shattered leg was the biggest of my worries.

Now I think my biggest problem is my doctor.

Don't get me wrong, she's great. She asked me about a million questions, which I tried answering to the best of my abilities, but after a while it got tricky describing "yeah it hurts" in different ways. She was super helpful, trying to minimize my movement and always keeping in mind that I was glued to my bed or my crutches.

        Problem was, in a matter of about ten minutes after her arrival, I'd gotten most enormous crush on her.

         Dr. West was knockout beautiful. I'm talking an adorable little smile that she hid under stern looks, dark brown hair that she kept twisted in a clip, and soft brown eyes that were worth melting for. When she'd pulled out her clipboard, I noticed her nail polish. It was bright yellow with little smiley faces drawn on. Possibly the cutest nails I'd ever seen.

        Except, well, there were a couple slight problems. Such as the fact that she's a doctor and I'm her patient.

        She hadn't known who I was. Or if she did, if the name had meant anything to her, she hadn't said so. It was nice, to be practically invisible for once. To be just a man, someone you could see at the store or at the post office and not even notice. Forgettable, even.

Now she was in her room, the guest room where sometimes Eve stayed when she insisted on having sibling sleepovers once a month (a lot of times, she'd retreat from the ruckus of Nick and me and hide for the night, despite it being her idea). Eve would have to find another place to hide at the next sleepover, because Dr. West would be here for a while.

I felt terrible that I didn't have more prepared to have someone live with me. The sheets had been washed recently, but that was about it. I didn't have groceries. The bedroom was barely decorated. No plants (or living ones, rather), no dishes (living alone and being on the road meant I kept about ten whole dishes), and no fun things to do. I didn't live that far from downtown Denver, so if she wanted to go into town, she'd find something to do. But I still felt bad.

The front door rattled. I realized Dr. West had locked it behind her when she'd come in. "Ah, crap," I said, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. I texted Eve, letting her know it would be a minute.

"Dr. West?" I called helplessly.

"Coming!" she walked briskly into the room, still wearing her scrubs but her hair now down around her shoulders. She had the most amazing hair, the color of caramel chocolate fudge.

"What?" she asked, giving me a look. I hadn't answered, I now realized.

"Oh! Um, my sister is here. Could you please let her in?" I asked, sheepish.

        Dr. West got the door. Eve walked in and I was relieved to see her arms bursting with grocery bags. So she'd actually done the errands I'd requested of her. Had I not been incapacitated, I would've hugged her.

"Hi, Logan!" she said cheerfully. "And you must be the doctor?"

"That's me," Dr. West agreed, looking like my description of my sister had been inaccurate. Eve was actually quite helpful in times of crisis.

         Proper introductions were made as Eve began stocking the fridge. She'd actually gotten a lot more than what I'd asked for, piling in the ice cream and the coffee and the cheeses. So many cheeses. My stomach was practically begging to have some, even though we'd eaten just an hour ago.

         "The rest is in the trunk, I'll go grab it," Eve said. Dr. West followed her, which was thoughtful. A few minutes later they came back, carrying boxes.