“Room 214?”
She nodded tightly.
I turned and walked away, feeling her eyes like daggers in my back. That was pretty much the reason right there why I don’t like meeting new people. I tend to say things that others have a filter for, and I don’t have the power to stop myself. It’s like once I start, I can’t stop until everyone involved is either mortified or ready to shoot pepper spray in my eyes because I’ve somehow made it seem like I’m either a serial rapist or a participant in an incestuous relationship with my long-lost brother. Sometimes I don’t even know how these conversations get where they go, but it can’t all just be me. Other people seem to bring out my crazy, which is why I didn’t like speaking with pretty much anyone face to face.
Room 214 didn’t take that long to find, even though I wished it had. The closer I got to it, the more nervous I got. Not only did I want to agree to go out with Vince, I’d now maimed him, and I didn’t know if that was the best way to start a relationship. Then I started thinking about the word relationship and why my mind immediately went there, and that made me start to sweat even more. I was pretty sure I was sweating buckets by the time I reached room 214 (which, in my head, sounded slightly ominous, like a direct-to-DVD horror movie starring some eighties pseudo-icon who has not aged well. Room 214: Check-In To Terror). I thought about bypassing the room completely, but then I heard Vince’s voice and I just couldn’t. I tried not to think about what that meant.
You can do this, I said, psyching myself up. Just go in there, and speak as little as possible.
I knocked quietly on the partially opened door. It swung open almost immediately, a doctor standing on the other side. I was about to smile and introduce myself, but I was immediately distracted by the fact that Vince was sitting shirtless on the edge of the bed, wearing only his biker shorts.
It was right then that I believed in God.
Dear God, I thought. Thank you for this bounty you have bestowed upon me. I will be your humble servant forever now because of this view. Love, Paul. P.S. He has a pierced nipple?
He was lovely, completely and thoroughly. His tan skin reminded me of cinnamon, his strong chest covered in a smattering of curly hair that drifted down from his pecs to his stomach. My eyes stuttered on his right nipple for a moment, the small silver bar going through it flashing in the harsh fluorescent lighting overhead. I wondered what it would be like to tease it with my tongue and if he liked it to be twisted.
Then I realized I was in very real danger of popping wood in front of him and a doctor, so I thought of gross things like maggots and Mitt Romney and I was able to keep my errant dick under control.
Then I saw his abs, which weren’t quite defined, but almost so, and even the thought of Mitt Romney laid out spread-eagled in front of me covered in offshore tax incentives couldn’t keep the blood from flowing. Literally only four seconds had passed since the door opened, but I’d spent those entire four seconds ogling Vince like I wanted to eat him right then and there. Which to be fair, I kind of did. I glanced up to his face and caught the sly but tired grin that said he knew exactly what I was doing.
I blushed and looked away.
“You here for Vince?” the doctor asked cheerfully, oblivious to the fact that I’d been essentially eye-fucking his patient.
“Er. Yeah,” I muttered.
“I’m Dr. Hal,” the doc said, shaking my hand.
“Paul,” I mumbled, looking down at the floor.
“He’s the guy who put me in the hospital,” Vince confided in the doctor.
“Oh!” Doc Hal said. “Well, this has got to be a bit awkward for the two of you. But it’s a nice thought that you’re coming here to check on him.”
“We knew each other before this,” Vince said, leaning back on his hands, the muscles in his stomach clenching slightly and awesomely. I shot him a scowl, but it fell from my face when I saw the bruising forming on his side, wrapping around to his back where I couldn’t see it anymore. I felt awful. “I guess he didn’t think there were any better ways to get my attention.” He grinned at me again, and I didn’t feel so awful after that.
Doc Hal frowned. “Why didn’t he just ask you out?”
Vince shrugged. “Dunno. I asked him out a few days ago, and he kind of freaked out a bit, and then he choked on spinach, so I saved his life with some Heinrich maneuvering.”
“Heimlich,” I said. “It’s Heimlich.”
“Quick thinking,” Doc Hal told him, ignoring me completely. “So he thanks you by hitting you with his car instead of going out with you? That’s odd.”
“Right? His life belongs to me now. It’s an old Japanese idea.”
“It’s Chinese!” I said indignantly.
Vince rolled his eyes. “It’s all Asia,” he said. “I want to go there some day,” he told the doc.
“Asia?” Doc Hal said, looking over Vince’s charts. “Where at in Asia?”
I could tell this confused Vince, but he just shrugged and said, “All over.” I didn’t think he understood the concept of Asia as a continent yet.
“Ah. Well, Vince, you’ve got a moderate concussion, but your CT scans were clear, so you should be right as rain in a few days or so, thanks to the fact that you were wearing a helmet. Way to protect the ol’ noggin. You’re probably going to be a bit more sore the next couple of days, so I want you to take it easy. You’ll need to stay awake for the next few hours, just to make sure no further symptoms manifest. You have a roommate who can watch over you for a while?”
He shook his head. “Live alone.”