Need Someone | [Complete]

Chapter 4: What Should I Do

I managed to break my fever that night. Fudging my timeline a bit, I was able to switch to the evening shift with a double over the weekend. Though I wasn't exactly excited about losing most of my weekend right after being sick, I was looking forward to being alone with minimal patients.

All of the patients on our floor must have had tickets to Coachella or something. It was a ghost town at our end. Meanwhile, the baby birthers were overbooked and rolling into our rooms. I wasn't complaining. It was fun to watch the birthing teams sprint down the hall in their pale pink scrubs mere minutes before a baby started crying, all while I had to do absolutely nothing to help them.

After I checked in, I walked down to Ziggy's room and met Theresa as she came out. She had a disapproving smirk on her face when she saw me. I looked at her in question. "He's on morphine and won't shut up about you." She patted me on the arm. "I warned you."

I walked in and Tiffany was nearly in tears. Denise was bright red trying to keep herself from laughing. They both saw me and lost it. What the hell?

Ziggy gasped. "There she is! My Angel." He was high as a kite, smiling so big his eyes were early closed. He leaned toward me and looked like he would roll out of the bed.

"Hi, Ziggy," I kept from laughing at him.

"Hi, beautiful." He reached for me. I gave him my hand and he kissed it over and over. I looked over at my coworkers and saw they were still enjoying the show. "I missed you."

"Oh, did you?"

He nodded slowly against his pillow, a drowsy smile on his lips. "Yeah. So much." He bit his lip. I delicately removed my hand from his and turned to the computer to prepare it for the doctor. "You're so fucking hot. And nice. And sweet. And hot."

I glared at him. "Ziggy, please."

"That prick you went out with didn't treat you right. It's a traves . . . A travesty."

"Didn't treat me right? He was very nice," I continued to stare at the screen.

"No, you deserve so much better," he shook his head against the pillow. "When I get out of here, I'm going to buy you like . . . two, three dozen roses in some weird color, because I know you're too good for that basic red shit. Then I'm gonna take you to a nice ass restaurant for some . . . some fucking lobster." I looked at him and tried my hardest not to laugh. He looked me straight in the eyes. "Then I'll take you home and make you come so hard you'll forget your own name."

Denise squealed with her laughter. My face was on fire. "Ziggy!"

"Was that rude?" he asked. "I'm sorry." He reached for me again, but I sidestepped him.

"Yes, that was rude. I need to take your temperature."

"Oh, okay." He rolled over and sat up like an obedient child.

I dragged it across his forehead and cheek. "Can you tell me your pain level?"

"My pain? Oh, I guess it does hurt . . ." He looked like he got lost in thought. "Two."

"A two out of ten?"

"Yeah. Do I have a fucking hard on?" he asked, then proceeded to touch himself unabashedly. He gasped. "I do! You wanna see it?"

"No, Ziggy."

"You sure? I've been told it's very impressive." Denise and Tiffany continued to giggle in the corner.

I shook my head at the two of them. "I'm sure it is." Dr. Smith walked in and I was relieved.

"How are we doing, Mr. Ziegler?"