Come Into My World Read online

  I sighed and tried to concentrate on what April was saying instead of expending brain power on Jordy—how fabulous he was and how far out of my league. Jordy was gorgeous, confident, and popular—in other words the direct opposite of me.

  He was a rehabilitation nurse in our unit at the hospital and wildly popular with both the other nurses and patients. I was one of the physiotherapists and would occasionally get smiles in the hallways and a hello, but I tended to blend a lot. I liked blending. I felt uncomfortable with the spotlight. I felt uncomfortable putting myself forward. Which was pretty much why I hadn’t had a date in eight months and definitely why no one at the unit knew I was gay.

  Some gay people are easy to pick—like Jordy. It was completely stereotypical, but somehow people just knew from the way Jordy stood or held his hands or spoke. I didn’t know what it was. I’d tried to catalogue it and work out why I didn’t exude that here-I-am-I’m-gay scent. Having that scent would make it much easier to approach guys, because they wouldn’t look shocked and say, “Are you gay? I never knew.”

  It was bad enough trying to talk to a guy I liked without having to get over that surprised reaction when I asked them out. I knew I should invest in some rainbow socks or a unicorn earring that would give some visual cues, but that simply wasn’t me. So I was stuck with people thinking I was straight. Or worse—not even thinking of me at all.

  I wished for Jordy’s confidence and the aura he had, which meant that people would never mistake his sexuality, even on first glance.

  I’d been with a patient once when Jordy had come into the hospital room, bringing sunshine and warmth with him. He’d smiled at her.

  “Hey, there. I’m Jordy. I’m going to be assisting Carrick today.”

  He’d begun prepping things for the young woman who’d had both legs shattered and rebuilt with titanium, bringing the wheelchair close to hand, whisking the table out of the way, and getting out the crutches we were teaching her to use. We were rehabilitating her to learn to walk on her new hardware—first with crutches, but eventually by herself.

  “So, Hayley,” Jordy said. “Are you going to be good and work hard? We want you chasing after those boys as soon as possible.”

  On all of thirty seconds meeting with him, Hayley correctly judged and was sure enough with her judgement to tease back at Jordy, “Absolutely. I’ll be beating you to the cutest ones with just a little bit of practice.”

  Jordy laughed gaily, comfortable in his own sexuality. “Well that’s no fun. If you promise to leave a couple of them for me, I won’t take up too much of their time.”

  Hayley giggled, something she’d not done with me in any of the six sessions we’d had together. “A love-them-and-leave-them type, are you?”

  I was watching closely and noticed Jordy blush. “I’m waiting for the man of my dreams to ask me on a date.” He turned and winked broadly at me, and I read that wink as Jordy leading on young Hayley, not wanting to shock her with what I assumed was Jordy’s very busy and active dating lifestyle.

  “You’re waiting for him to ask you out? Why can’t you ask him out?” Hayley demanded as I stepped in front of her and motioned for her to swing her legs around so she was sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Jordy fussed with Hayley’s clothing, doing a great nursing job of making sure her nightgown was straight so her dignity was preserved. “I think he’d scuttle away in shock,” Jordy said, humour lacing his voice. “He’s a bit shy, this one. I think he likes to do things in his own time and not be rushed.”

  I broke into the conversation to remind Hayley to concentrate on what she was doing and how to take it easy so she didn’t cause damage to her fragile legs. Hayley responded beautifully, and it was five minutes later, when we were shuffling down the hallway at a snail’s pace, that Hayley picked up the story again.

  “So you mean this is a real guy you have your eye on? Not just some mythical prince?” she asked Jordy over her shoulder.

  “Oh, he’s real,” Jordy promised her. He was trailing behind us with the wheelchair barely inches away, in case Hayley needed to rest. “I only hope he has the courage to do something about his feelings soon. I’m getting antsy waiting.”

  “How do you know he’s interested?” Hayley puffed out with another small step, which I could tell was painful, but I knew she needed to push through the pain or she would encounter more problems by not getting those muscles working.

  “It’s in his eyes,” Jordy said softly.

  I was walking backwards, encouraging Hayley to advance, and so I caught Jordy’s wink over her head.

  What did that wink mean?

  I’d struggled with the answer to that question for nearly a month now.

  April smartly opened her folder and began the meeting. We had six new patients that day with various rehabilitation needs, two due for discharge, and the possibility of more surgery for three. Then we began discussing the ongoing care of our current patients. Appointments and equipment were shuffled throughout the staff according to needs, so we thrashed out scheduling at the beginning of each day. Many of the patients required physical therapies as well as counselling and occupational therapy. As a team, we decided how many different rehabilitation sessions a patient could fit in, dependent on their medical needs and mental state.

  Sometimes a different service couldn’t start until one had finished. I often had to give my fellow colleagues notice that someone was approaching the time where an exercise physiologist could take over. Other times an occupational therapist would warn me that a certain patient was nearly ready to enter the more physical portion of their rehabilitation, which would give me a chance to read up on their medical notes.

  “Carrick?” April asked me as we touched on Mr Dalgety, an obese patient with complex medical needs.

  I swallowed my innate fear of speaking in public and answered her. “The floor work is rather painful and I’m not making progress. I want to get him in the pool to get some of the weight off his knees. I broached it with Mr Dalgety yesterday, and he was fine with it. Miranda has an opening in the hydro pool at eleven that she’s holding for me.”

  April nodded. “Good. You’ll need some help so—”

  “I’ll do it.”

  I almost gave myself an injury as my head swivelled on my spine so fast at the sound of Jordy’s offer.

  “That is, if it’s okay with Carrick?” He turned my way. “Do you want me all day?”

  If only he knew.

  “I’m good with that,” I replied evenly, not betraying the inner turmoil I was feeling.

  Jordy grinned brightly, and we moved on to the next patient.

  At the end of the meeting, I gathered my notes and stood. I was aware of Jordy doing the same as the murmur of voices grew louder in the room. We filed out, hurrying to our offices to dump the paperwork, as the first sessions were due to start in ten minutes. Jordy fell into step beside me. I waited for him to speak first.

  We stopped outside my small cubbyhole that the hospital called an office. I turned toward him.

  To my surprise, he sighed and said, “You can speak to me, you know?”

  I didn’t understand. “I know. I do speak to you.”

  He sighed again and used his hand to push back his longish hair, which had flopped into his eyes. The movement drew my eyes to the tattoo he had on the inside of his arm. I wanted to ask him about it. I didn’t.

  He seemed to shake his head, but I had to be mistaken because he said, “Fine. I’ll wait a little longer. So tell me what we have on for today?”

  I gave him a sideways look, trying to figure out what that was about, then dropped my eyes to look at my schedule.

  “First up I have CeeCee Maddick, which I’ll require assistance on. But then I have three sessions in the gym with ambulatory patients. So I won’t need you after that until we have to pick up Mr Dalgety.”

  Jordy rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Excellent. Some Italian time with CeeCee Maddick.”


  He deliberately mispronounced the surname, putting the emphasis on the second syllable instead of the first.

  “I should go to this year’s Pride parade in drag and call myself CeeCee Maddick. What do you think?” He turned towards me so that his hip was now resting against the counter. “All the cute boys will be anxious to meet me, and I can delicately extend my hand and say, ‘CeeCee Maddick.’”

  He fluttered his eyelashes and reached out his right arm in the manner of a sultry TV starlet. I was shocked at how arousing that simple action was.

  He mimed shaking someone’s hand and said, “And hopefully all the boys will reply, ‘Yes, please.’”

  I wished I could.

  Now I had to go and spend forty-five minutes with the guy who made me hot and flustered every time he said “dick” in my presence.

  Scratch that.

  I had to spend the entire day with him. Including going swimming. My hands lost their grip on the notes I was holding, and I dropped them on the floor of my office.

  Jordy Reynolds in a bathing suit? CeeCee Maddick indeed.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Also by Sean Kennedy

  The Tigers and Devils Series

  Tigers and Devils

  Tigerland

  Tigers on the Run

  The GetOut Series

  The Ongoing Reformation of Micah Johnson

  Micah Johnson Goes West

  Wings of Equity

  Dash and Dingo in Search of the Tasmanian Tiger

  I Fell in Love with a Zombie

  Sean Kennedy lives in the second-most isolated city in the world, thinks there are thylacines still out in the wild, and is a disciple in the cult of David Lynch.

  Website: http://www.seankennedybooks.com

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