The Virgin Auction by J. S. Scott

Author:J. S. Scott [Scott, J. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Golden Unicorn Enterprises Inc
Published: 2018-01-08T05:00:00+00:00

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A few hours later, I listened as the emergency room doctor put a brace on Jett’s knee, trying to hear what the verdict would be on his injured leg. Unfortunately, the physician had pulled the curtain between our ER beds, so I couldn’t really see what was happening.

Thinking we were a couple, the nurse had put us into a room that had two beds, and Jett had talked me through my x-rays and the extensive number of stitches I’d needed to repair the gash on my foot.

My wound would heal quickly.

But I wasn’t sure about Jett’s knee.

I was riddled with guilt over the fact that he’d been injured, and I hadn’t even known there was anything wrong with Jett until the nurse had mentioned how badly his knee was swelling. I’d been mortified when I saw how the denim of his jeans was stretched because his knee was the size of a grapefruit. She’d insisted he get checked out, too, something I’d be eternally grateful for since I hadn’t seen the damage myself.

I’d been too busy worrying about my own injuries, and I hated hospitals.

I hadn’t noticed that Jett was probably in worse shape than I was, yet he’d been trying to keep me calm while I was having x-rays and sutures put in.

He’d just gotten back from his MRI a few minutes ago, and he’d blown the whole thing off by saying he’d had much worse injuries in his life.

However, I hadn’t caused any of his other injuries, but I felt directly responsible for the sprint he’d had to do earlier to catch up to me. And I cringed every time I thought about him picking up my weight so effortlessly and carrying me to his car.

My ears perked up like a dog’s as the doctor started to speak.

“Rest, ice, the brace, and keep it elevated to get the swelling down. Your meniscus is torn, but the tear is in an area that gets good blood flow, so if you do what you’re supposed to do, it should eventually heal. Physical therapy—”

Jett interrupted sharply, “I know the drill, Doc. No sense wasting your breath on my injury. I’ve had more PT than any person should ever have to have in their lifetime.”

“I can see that,” the doctor said in a more sympathetic voice.

“My knee was a mess anyway,” Jett said flatly.

“It was,” the doctor agreed. “But you didn’t have to add another injury. No more sprints for a while. You’ll need to be re-checked, and your orthopedic doctor in Seattle wants to see you once you’re back home so he can see how you’re healing.”

“Got it,” Jett replied gruffly.

I startled as the curtain was suddenly jerked open, and I could see Jett’s unhappy face staring at the doctor like he wanted to punch him.

“The nurse will bring all your discharge instructions shortly,” the doctor said right before he exited and pulled the door closed behind him.

The room was silent for a moment before I finally said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

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