Tempted By Collection

She’d decided as he’d driven her to work that she wouldn’t mention it. Tom obviously regretted the moment and she didn’t want him to feel embarrassed or awkward around her. Nor did she want to feel awkward around him. She wanted them to go back to the way they’d been before the almost-kiss. Good friends. Good flatmates. Boss and employee. Team players.

If she saw Tom today at the hospital, she would wish him good morning, smile and then get on with her day. If he raised the issue with her, then that would be different. But still, she’d listen and nod and smile and tell him it was all fine. She’d decided that she wouldn’t put any pressure on him whatsoever. She would be strong and independent. She would not be clingy, or whiny or make him feel as if he’d almost kissed the wrong woman. She didn’t want him to think she was someone who might turn into a weird stalker, desperate for his affections.

She put her coat into her locker, changed into her uniform and twisted her hair up into a clip. Then she headed to the staffroom to make herself a quick cup of coffee. She made drinks for Jackie, Stefan and Bobby too and settled down with her notepad and pen, waiting for the sister from the night shift to come in and do the handover.

Dr Thomas walked in, followed by a couple of healthcare assistants, then another doctor.

She wondered where Tom was.

It doesn’t matter, she told herself. Be bright and breezy.

And then...in he came. He was looking tall and delicious as always and his gaze found hers in an instant, before he quickly looked away.

Her smile froze on her face.

It was easy to tell yourself that you wouldn’t let it matter. It was easy to say that you wouldn’t show a reaction. But reality was just a little tougher and doing it was another matter entirely. Having him here so close to her made her entire body feel as if it were revving its engine, as if someone had pressed down on the accelerator, making the engine roar. She could feel her blood thrumming through her veins and could feel herself beginning to overheat.

It had been the same that morning, when Tom had driven her in to work. He’d barely said a word, but she’d been so aware of him next to her, just inches away. Every time he’d reached for the gear stick to change up or down, she’d sucked in a breath.

She didn’t know why this was happening. She hadn’t felt this way before he’d tried to kiss her. But now, after that moment, something had changed.

She dipped her head and sipped her coffee, aware of his every step, his every movement. He was making himself a drink and, although she wanted to watch him whilst his back was turned and try to gauge his mood or how he might feel about her, she kept staring straight ahead. He would be a perfect gentleman, of that she had no doubt.

Jackie said something to her and Naomi made a sound as if in agreement, but really she had no idea what her friend had just said.

She sipped her coffee again and stared at her notepad on the desk in front of her.

Just look at the notepad. Look at that and nothing else. Tom is just another person in the room. Don’t look at him.

She looked at him. She took in the broad expanse of his back, the neatness of his small, trim waist. The way his hair neatly met the collar of his shirt, the soft curve of muscle beneath the material.

He’d tried to kiss her. He’d tried and so it did mean something! Because surely there had to be feelings behind that intention. Surely he must have felt an attraction to her.

She averted her gaze as he turned round to find a seat, intently aware of him moving round to sit next to Dr Thomas, out of her eyeline.

Thank you. At least now I’ll be able to concentrate.

She took another sip of her coffee, willing herself to concentrate on something else.

Naomi was assigned to work in Minors. As was Tom. No matter, she thought. It didn’t mean they were necessarily going to run into each other all day. It was a big enough department, with sixteen cubicles. As long as she kept busy, it should be fine. And A&E was always busy.

She had no patient already assigned to her, so she went to pick up the next patient card from triage.

Logan Reed, aged twenty, who had a cut on his leg.

She called him through, noting that he was a tall, young man, quite lanky in appearance, a little pale and weak-looking. She led him through to her cubicle and asked him to sit on the bed.

‘So, Logan, what’s brought you to A&E today?’

He answered her in a dull voice. ‘I’ve cut my leg.’

‘And how did you do that?’

He shrugged.

She sensed there was more to this, something he was afraid to say. ‘Can you show me whereabouts on your leg the cut is?’

He stood up and unzipped his trousers, lowering them to his knees. He didn’t look at her or make eye contact, but just waited whilst she took in the multitude of scars across the tops of his thighs. On one thigh there was a section covered with a gauze pad.

It was now clear Logan had been self-harming and her heart sank. What could be causing this boy so much pain that he felt he had to do this?

‘Okay. Do you want to lie back for me? Then I’ll have a look at this cut.’

He positioned himself on the bed and waited.

Naomi put on some gloves and removed the gauze pad. Whilst he’d obviously cut himself again, this gash was bigger than the others and quite possibly deeper. It was still bleeding, but it looked as if it had slowed.

‘What did you use?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

Logan shrugged. ‘A craft blade.’

‘Was it clean?’

He nodded.

She delicately replaced the gauze pad and removed her gloves. ‘And what made you do this? Today? What happened to make you cut yourself worse than all the other times?’

His gaze met hers, briefly. ‘A girl. You probably think I’m stupid.’

Naomi didn’t. She knew people dealt with their pain in many different ways. Some just cried, whilst others buried themselves in work so that they didn’t have to think. Some people would exercise furiously and others would just wallow deep in depression. Then others, like Logan, self-harmed, perhaps preferring to feel physical pain, rather than the emotional one.

‘No! No, I don’t. Were you in a relationship with this girl?’

‘I thought I was. I thought we were serious. Turns out she was just having fun.’ He sounded bitter. She could understand his hurt.

‘This might need stitches, Logan. I’ll need to get a doctor to assess it properly in order to do that.’

‘I know the drill. If it does need stitches, will I get an anaesthetic?’

Naomi thought that was an odd question. ‘Of course you will. Why?’

‘Last time I needed stitches I went to a hospital—not this one—and they said that if I could cut myself without anaesthetic, I could get stitched up without it, too.’

Naomi was horrified. ‘What? That’s awful!’

‘In some places, when you self-harm, they treat you like you deserve it.’

‘Well, we don’t do that here! There are protocols in place. You won’t be treated differently from anyone else.’

Logan nodded approvingly. ‘Glad to hear it.’

‘Are you receiving treatment for your self-harming, Logan? Are you seeing anyone?’

‘I was. But I haven’t for a while.’

‘Then I’ll refer you for another assessment. Is that all right?’

‘Sure.’

She nodded. ‘Are you in pain? From the cut?’

‘A bit, but it’s okay.’

‘No. It’s not okay. It’s never okay to be in pain.’

She went in search of an available doctor, hoping to maybe find Dr Thomas, or one of the others on duty. But they were already busy. The one doctor that had just finished with a patient and was about to see another was Tom.

Naomi relaxed her shoulders, letting out a low, long breath, and then she went over to him. She kept her manner businesslike. The epitome of professionalism. ‘Tom, could I ask you to check my patient over, if you’re free?’

He met her gaze and nodded. ‘Of course. Who’s the patient?’

‘Logan Reed. He’s self-harmed, and cut his leg. It needs an assessment and possibly stitches.’

‘Has he got a current mental-health referral?’

‘No, but he’s had counselling before. I think he’s fallen off the wagon somewhat, so I’m going to re-refer him.’

‘Okay, let me take a look.’

They walked side by side to the cubicle, neither looking at the other, but each totally aware of how close they stood.

Naomi pulled open the cubicle curtain and introduced Logan to Tom, who put on some gloves and examined the wound. ‘Can you feel me touching here? And here?’ he asked Logan.

The young man nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘You can wiggle your toes and move your leg with no problems?’

‘It’s fine.’

‘Good. I don’t think it’s too deep. It needs a clean and then I can stitch it. It’s probably going to need at least three stitches. They’ll be dissolvable, so there’s no need to go to the doctor’s to get them removed.’

Logan nodded again.

‘What made you do this?’ Tom asked, quietly.

Their patient let out a long sigh. ‘This girl I was into. She was beautiful, you know? Popular. All the guys wanted to be with her and she picked me. I thought we had something special. This deep connection. But it turned out, she wasn’t as into me as I was her.’

Naomi tried her hardest not to look at Tom’s face. She’d thought Tom had sensed something between them, too. But she couldn’t imagine what this poor young boy was feeling. To only be twenty years old, but to have more scars than years on his legs. She wondered what had gone wrong in his life, which compelled him to do such a thing in order to cope with emotional pain.

She thought of her own pain. The hurt and the grief she’d felt at the loss of her marriage. She’d dreamt of being married ever since she’d been a little girl. Her mother had raised her to believe that she could not be complete without a man, and that finding love was the ultimate goal. So as a child, she’d idolised marriage as the epitome of love. The way you would show the world how dedicated you were to another person. She’d drawn pictures of her ideal dress, imagined her perfect wedding day, dreamed about her perfect groom and how her life would be as a married woman.

But she’d had none of that. Meeting Vincent had changed it all. Suddenly she’d found a way to be married without leaving herself at risk of having that man walk out on her or cheat on her. She and Vincent might not have been able to have a physical relationship, but she’d told herself that didn’t matter so much. So long as she was safe. And her heart was protected. She’d known that Vincent would die young and she would lose him quickly, but she’d felt that that was something she would deal with when the time came. She would still be able to tell the world, tell herself, that she had been married, had been in love and that she’d had a good marriage. That she’d not been desperate and unloved like her own mother, who had seemed like the loneliest woman on the planet.

Eight years she’d spent with Vincent. Eight years of being best friends with her husband: sharing the same jokes, sharing quiet times—reading books, having picnics, taking day trips to the beach or a country house. Eight years of doing the things couples did together. Of caring for him. Loving him.

Eight years of repressing her excitement, her joy, her passion for life.

We all deal with pain and suffering in different ways.

Her own suffering had turned her into a stronger woman. She felt sure of that. Now, she was single and strong and determined. She was free to live her life the way she wanted, without anything holding her back. She could have let her pain control her. She could have let her grief override her emotions, but she hadn’t.

And look at Tom. He’d lost his wife. His suffering could have turned him into a bitter individual, angry at the world. But he was kind and considerate and friendly. What was it that made one person strong and determined not to be bowed down by tragedy, whilst others could barely cope?

Although, she knew better than anyone that sometimes grief and pain could still affect you, even when you thought you were over it. Tom had held back yesterday, for example. She’d seen the pain in his eyes, and it seemed Tom was still not over his wife’s death. Maybe he still felt married. After all, he’d not chosen to end his marriage. His wife had been taken from him. Did he still have feelings for Meredith? Had he bowed his head to kiss Naomi and suddenly realised what he was doing?

Of course. Tom still loved his dead wife. He clearly felt like he had betrayed Meredith, by attempting to kiss Naomi.

If that were true, then it was definitely a good thing that he’d put the brakes on. He obviously wasn’t in the right head space for her to get involved with him. She didn’t want to be involved with a man who wasn’t free. She didn’t want to be involved with a man who still loved another woman.

She stood there, cleaning Logan’s wound with saline, trying to be delicate, trying not to hurt him, until Tom could administer the anaesthetic.

All the while, she promised herself that from now on she would start looking harder for a flat. A place of her own. Tom clearly needed his space back. His life back.

The atmosphere between them needed lightening up. But how could she do that? Perhaps she should suggest they do something fun. Something that neither of them had ever done. Something that would get them both out of the flat, both out of that space where Tom’s grim memories resided and back out into the world. Most of all, something that had nothing to do with relationships and kisses and heightened moments of tension.

They could still be friends. Good friends, even. But for her, flat-hunting was going to be a number-one priority from now on.

Tom was off-limits.

And so was she.

Tom watched Logan limp out of the department and went to write up the patient notes. He’d left Naomi clearing up the cubicle and suddenly felt a lot more relaxed than when he had been encased with her inside that small space.

His discomfort with her proximity hadn’t stopped them from treating Logan to the best of their abilities. But he hoped and prayed that this current level of unease would soon pass. The last thing he wanted was for work to feel uncomfortable, just because of what had happened with Naomi.

He knew he had to forget the moment, but it was difficult. He’d loved Meredith. Of course he had. Their relationship had been built not just on love but friendship, too. But what about Naomi? That need to kiss her had just popped up out of nowhere, completely unexpected. He hadn’t thought, Well, this is a nice moonlit walk by the river, that’s romantic, I’ll kiss her. It had just happened. They’d stood there, looking at each other, and suddenly Tom had just...needed her.

It had just seemed right. He’d felt comfortable with her. They’d been having a pleasant walk, enjoying a good conversation and she’d been so lovely, so beautiful, listening to everything he’d said, paying attention. She’d been funny and humble and such good company and he’d not been able to remember the last time he’d felt that good. Then he’d just felt the need to...

He sighed.

He’d almost kissed her and then had walked away without a word of explanation. She must have been angry with him and she must have had questions. And yet she hadn’t asked him about it. She hadn’t pressured him into talking. She was even being sweet today, her normal and professional self. There had been no unfriendly atmosphere between them, as he’d feared, especially after the drive that morning when she hadn’t said a word. He’d been silent, too, waiting for her to say something. To receive a verbal assault, anything, but she’d remained calm and serene. And he truly appreciated that.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it hadn’t meant as much to her as it had to him.

Tom looked up and saw Naomi walking towards him. Suddenly, he knew he had to apologise. Or at least he had to say something.

‘Tom, can we talk?’

There were other members of staff milling around. Stefan was writing on a blood sample and Jackie was nearby, washing her hands in the sink.

‘Of course. But it’ll have to be at break.’

‘I have a break at ten-thirty. Will you come and find me?’

He nodded. He watched her pick up another patient card and disappear to the waiting room.

Even after the way he’d treated her, she still acted with dignity, as if nothing had happened. He couldn’t be more grateful.

When it got to ten-thirty, he found her dismissing her last patient. They both made a drink in the staffroom and sat opposite each other over the long table.

Naomi gave him a brief, polite smile, before she opened her mouth to speak. ‘I’ve decided that what we both need is an evening of fun.’

Tom blinked. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting. ‘Okay.’

‘We’ve both been through an awful lot of stress in our personal lives and everything has just been so intense. We need to break free of that and do something random and fun, to forget work and life’s stresses and just enjoy being. What do you think?’

He gave a simple nod. ‘I agree.’ He liked the idea. She was right. ‘Absolutely.’ A smile crept across his face as he realised just how much he was beginning to really like this woman.

‘Good. I’ve arranged something I’ve never done before and hopefully something you haven’t done either. We’ll have a laugh and enjoy ourselves and just let everything go. Okay?’

Tom nodded. ‘Are you going to tell me what it is?’

She smiled at him. ‘No. Not until we get there.’

‘Right.’

She stood up. ‘Right. I’ll see you later.’

As she walked away he shook his head in disbelief. What had he done so right in his life that Naomi had been allowed to walk into it?

Then he laughed quietly to himself. He hadn’t thought that when he’d first met her. He’d thought she was a clumsy rule-breaker, who had demanded his attention.

But now?

She was brightening up his life.

‘We’re doing what?’ Tom looked at her as if she’d just suggested they go parachuting naked.

‘A roller disco derby.’

‘On skates?’

‘Roller skates, yes. Don’t worry, Tom. They give you helmets and everything.’

‘But...you, on skates. Is that safe?’

She gave him a playful nudge and laughed. ‘I’ll stay upright and everything. Come on, it’ll be fun. Eighties music, a bit of disco lighting and a whole room full of adults who all ought to know better. What could be more right?’ She took hold of his hand and he allowed himself to be pulled forward, a grin on his face.

The large wooden-floored skating arena was filled with flashing disco lights and the heavy beat of loud bass-heavy music. Tom could almost feel the beat thrumming through his bones. Skaters—who’d obviously done this before—whizzed past him, whilst other people stumbled along carefully, as he was doing.

Naomi held his hand in hers and, laughing, pulled him onto the wooden floor.

‘Hang on! Just let me grab this.’ He reached for the side, smiling broadly as his hand gripped the safety rail and he could suddenly stand fully upright once again.

Naomi stood by him smiling. ‘We’ll do this together!’ she shouted. ‘One step at a time, yes?’

He nodded and wondered what everyone at work would say if they could see him now. At the rate he was going, they might well see him, when he went to A&E later as a patient rather than a doctor, with a sprained ankle. But with a faltering lunge, he let go of the side and allowed Naomi to lead him.

The battle for his balance was an awkward one. He imagined he must look like a baby deer on stilts, all long legs and awkward wobbles, but Naomi was wobbling all over the place, too, so he didn’t feel like a total idiot. There were lots of people struggling, but everyone was laughing and those that did fall down were soon picked up by those around them.

When had he ever had so much carefree fun?

He would never have thought to come and do this on his own. Nor would he have let any of his other colleagues even suggest it! But Naomi had managed to get him here, had managed to put wheels on his feet and make him move.

Another skater whizzed past quickly, sending Tom’s arms whirling, and suddenly his feet had been lost from under him and he smacked down hard on his rump.

Naomi was bent double with laughter, but she shuffled over to give him a hand up. He was laughing so hard his sides were beginning to hurt. When he was at last back up on his ‘feet’ he clutched her hand and mouthed a ‘thank you’ as they began to skate again.

He had no idea how long they were on the arena floor, but pretty soon he started to get the hang of it and began to pick up speed. Naomi continued to stumble around behind him, so he doubled back and this time grabbed her hand.

‘Come on!’ he encouraged her, helping her to keep up with him.

Who would have thought it? Dr Tom Williams skating, and actually enjoying himself, at a roller derby! Happily, he surged forward, but then all of a sudden he felt Naomi start to wobble and he turned to catch her, doing it without thinking.

Suddenly she was in his arms again. Up close, he could see the sparkle in her eyes and he couldn’t look away. She was so beautiful! And she felt so right in his embrace. Her smile faltered briefly as she saw him gaze at her mouth, but then it returned and Tom knew that this time, he had to kiss her.

Slowly, in the middle of the roller derby, with everyone dashing past with lights flashing and the music pounding, the rest of the world faded away. For just a moment, it was only the two of them, wrapped in a world of magic and wonder. He dipped his head and let his lips touch hers.

He closed his eyes.

Her lips were so soft, so warm. Her arms came up around his neck and he pulled her closer against him. She felt so good. So right.

He allowed himself to be lost in the kiss. To just enjoy it. He would worry about the consequences later. Right now, in this moment, it was just Naomi and him.

The kiss deepened and grew more intense. He felt hungry for her; he desired her, wanted her. How was it possible that he could lose himself so easily? So readily?

But he pushed that thought away.

Someone caught his arm as they raced past and it broke the intensity of the moment.

She stared back at him as they parted, surprise and desire in her eyes, and he moistened his lips, before smiling uncertainly and taking her hand once again. They began to skate, but now it felt different.

The kiss had changed everything between them. The dynamics, the atmosphere...

And then it came.

The guilt. The pain. The flood of past memories, images of Meredith in the sunshine, laughing at him, calling his name, reaching out to him.

But his hand was in Naomi’s. And he couldn’t let go.

He needed a break. A minute to breathe.

He headed over to the safety rail.

The next week passed in a blur. Tom threw himself into his work once again, determined to get through every patient. He took blood samples, he stitched cuts, he sent patients to X-ray or CT. He was curt with everyone, no longer bothering to stop and chat, grabbing coffee on the go and not taking his full break.

He saw Naomi everywhere, it seemed. She was in the sluice, the drugs cupboard, holding patients’ hands, tucking them in or helping them to walk, helping them to deal with whatever health issue had brought them to A&E. He tried his best to ignore her. He kept his head down and walked past, keeping their interactions to a minimum.