The Infamous Ellen James (Infamous Series) (7 page)

I just look over at Amy and start laughing.

There is no way I'm going to let her know about the supply room incident. If I let her know that Dr. Hamilton and I kissed, she would seriously lose her shit. And Amy with two bottles of wine in her system and losing her shit is not a good scenario for me. I can already picture her tracking down his number and inviting him over to our apartment tonight with, "Hey, Dr. Fuck-Me-Eyes, you should come over and bang my Elle into next Tuesday."

Yeah, that definitely wouldn't make things awkward for everyone at work tomorrow.

"What, Elle? I'm serious. With a body like that, I bet that man would screw you senseless. Can I at least be in the room when you two bang it out for the first time?"

"Sure thing, dickhead. If Dr. Hamilton and I get our freak on, I'll make sure you have a front-row seat. Actually, I'll just bring him back to your room and let him bang me while you're sleeping right next to me."

"Yessssss! That's what I'm talking about! And I most definitely will not be sleeping while he's pounding your snatch," Amy says before she starts singing a song that consists of one only verse…

I get to see Elle and Dr. Fuck-Me-Eyes thrust.

Yeah, definitely not a good idea to tell her about the kiss in the supply room.

I stay on the floor for a good thirty minutes and manage to recover from my sugar-alcohol overdose. I'm still shitfaced, but that feeling is always welcome in this apartment. Amy and I continue to laugh hysterically as we watch Bridesmaids. We're both drunk to the nines, and this can be a dangerous scenario when we are left alone together.

The Merlot has stained both of our teeth red and we take at least fifty selfies with our phones while giggling uncontrollably. We take a few minutes to drunk dial a few of our closest friends and then decide to take a gander at funny YouTube videos. Amy scrolls to a Harlem Shake video and we both start laughing, remembering my performance the other night at Murphy's.

"Hey, friennnnd, we should post my Harlem Shake video on YouTube!" I slur to Amy as I pet her hair.

"Whaaat? No way! Are you sure you want that on YouTube?" Amy is already scrolling to the saved videos on her phone.

"Hell yes! My video is awwwwwwesome and YouTubers will love me!" I throw my hands in the air and fall back onto the carpet.

"Everyone will love you, Ellie Belly! I'm gonna load it up right now!" Amy announces as she drunkenly starts to upload a video to YouTube.

***

The next day at work is grueling, and working through a wine headache is always a little bit of a struggle. Amy and I take turns seeing patients in the emergency room. We keep up a constant supply of coffee and Tylenol, and this seems to get us through the day.

As I head towards the nurses' station, I notice Tony and Amy sitting around one of the computers, laughing riotously as they look at his phone. I quietly sneak up behind them and attempt to figure out what they're watching. I can tell YouTube is pulled up, but Tony's giant head is blocking my view of the video.

"Hey!" I shriek in attempt to scare both of them.

They both jump and then turn around quickly at the sound of my voice. They have this deer-in-headlights look as they try to discreetly hide Tony's phone screen from my view.

"What are you guys doing?" My voice is laced with irritation, and I'm sure the wrinkle lines in my forehead are showing with my scowl.

"Uh, nothing, Elle. We're just browsing the web, looking at stupid stuff." Amy looks nervous and Tony is frantically trying to click out of YouTube on his phone. I swiftly move around Tony and snatch his phone from his hands.

"Shit! Elle! Give that back!" Tony shouts at me while furiously attempting to retrieve his phone.

"Tony, stop grabbing for your phone or I swear I will tell Nurse Ratchet to float you to Med-Surg tomorrow." Tony slowly puts his hands to his sides, and that's when I notice the title of the video they are watching—Harlem Shake Epic Fail.

Oh, fuck me.

I push Tony out of the chair and slowly sit down before clicking play. I'm then faced with the video that Amy recorded of me at Murphy's.

Oh my god! Why is this on YouTube?!

I glance down in the right-hand corner of the screen and see that there have been over five hundred thousand hits.

"Five hundred thousand hits! Amy, you are so dead!" I scream as I watch a video of myself awkwardly thrusting my pelvis in the background at Murphy's Pub.

"You made me upload it last night! Tony just happened to find it while scrolling through YouTube on his break!" she shouts back at me while still trying to contain her laughter.

I made her put this ridiculous video on YouTube?

And then…it hits me.

I remember drunkenly petting her hair and telling her to upload the video to YouTube, saying, "Youtubers will love me!"

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

"Motherfucking fuck. Fucking shit!" I stomp my foot on the ground like an insolent toddler.

I sluggishly start scrolling through the comments and see Shirley Swallows Goes Viral posted over and over and over again. My best friend and I have managed to make me an overnight YouTube sensation.

I will forever been known as the girl in the Shirley Swallows t-shirt who awkwardly pelvic thrusts.

Well,
that's just fan-fucking-tastic.

Chapter Eleven

“When life gives you 550-horsepower and a little cocksucker challenging you to a street race, you burn rubber and show him that women can drive muscle cars just as well as men.”

By the end of my shift, I decide that I'm not actually going to kill Amy for posting the infamous Harlem Shake Epic Fail YouTube video. Although, I'm still entertaining the idea of cunt punching her tonight while she is sleeping.

I sit down next to Tony, who's feverishly charting his patient assessments on one of the computers in the nurses' station. I have no doubt that these are assessments that most likely should have been charted hours ago. This is typical Tony. I love the guy to death. He's a fantastic nurse, but his time management skills blow some serious ass.

“How's Rachel doing?” I ask him as I type out a note on the last patient I discharged.

“She's great.” Tony's face lights up with a huge smile. “I think I'm going to propose to her.”

“Seriously? Oh my god, that is awesome! I'm so happy for you!” I jump up out of my chair and wrap my arms around his broad chest, hugging him tightly.

Tony laughs and gives my arms a gentle squeeze. “Thanks, Elle. I really appreciate that.”

Despite his lack of time management skills, Tony is truly an amazing man. He started dating a sweet girl named Rachel over a year ago, and they've been inseparable ever since. I have no doubt in my mind she will say yes, and Tony will get his much deserved happily ever after.

I finish up with my last patient and let out a huge sigh in relief. I'm exhausted, it's after nine p.m., and I'm in desperate need for a drink at Murphy's. I see Amy sitting at the nurses' station and decide to extend a tequila branch her way. Yes,
tequila
branch instead of
olive
branch. Amy and I are notorious for our alcohol consumption, and this is one part of our friendship we both proudly embrace.

"Hey, I'm going to head out. Meet me at Murphy's after you finish up?"

Amy looks up from her large stack of patient charts. "Is this you offering a tequila branch my way?"

I feign frustration and give an exaggerated sigh. "Yeah, I guess I forgive you for being such an asshole and allowing that video to go viral on YouTube."

"All right, sweet cheeks. I'll see you there once I'm done charting."

I glance up at the large white clock that sits above the nurse's station. "It's nine o'clock right now. How about you try to get out of here before ten, slacker?"

Amy scratches her cheek with her middle finger before saying, "Hey, why don't you get off my ass and go change your stank-ass scrubs?” She grins widely at me. “I'll see you around ten."

I laugh a little at her inappropriate gesture. "Like you should talk. I'm pretty sure you still have remnants of bed four's GI bleed on your pants."

She smiles at me and then looks down at her pants. "Just for that comment, I'm wearing these to the bar so you can smell me all night long."

"Okay, nasty. I'll see you around ten." I blow Amy a kiss and walk towards the locker room.

"Love your tits!" Amy yells a little too loudly for a professional hospital setting. I just shake my head, knowing full well that if I turn around, the inappropriate banter will start spewing from her mouth, so I do what any sane person would do…I keep walking.

I head to the ladies' locker room to change out of my scrubs and into something more appropriate for drinks after work. I throw on my faded skinny jeans, black knee-high riding boots, and my favorite vintage Pink Floyd tank. I love this tank because it is so comfortable and shows just enough cleavage to give a little sex appeal. I brush my long auburn locks up into a pony tail and put on just enough makeup to hide the fact that I've worked sixteen hours in the emergency room.

As I head for the parking lot, I notice Trent Hamilton leaning against the wall just outside of the ladies' locker room. His jet-black hair is tousled, and his piercing blue eyes are covered with thick black lashes. His attire gives no hints to the fact that he is one of the most respected trauma surgeons in the country. A black leather jacket, a white V-neck tee, faded jeans, and black boots make him look more like he just got off of a Harley rather than just having finished a long shift in the operating room.

Mmmmmm. Hot guy eye-candy. Is there anything better?

After visually eye-fucking him for a good thirty seconds, Trent finally looks up at me as he slides his
Blackberry in the back pocket of his jeans.
I bet his ass looks fantastic in those jeans.

He flashes a big, warm smile when we lock eyes. "Well, hello there. We meet again."

"Yes, we meet
again
, Dr. Hamilton." I can't help the sarcasm that drips from my voice.

"Remember, it's Trent, and I'm glad we meet
again
." He mimics my sarcastic tone. "Where are you heading now?"

"Well,
Trent
, I'm just going to a bar called Murphy's. My friend Amy is meeting me there after she finishes up. What are you still doing here?"

"Waiting for you to get dressed so we can grab a drink at a bar called Murphy's." Trent's mouth blazes a sexy smirk.

His response gives me a slight thrill of excitement. This man definitely intrigues me. Well, he intrigues my vagina, that's for sure. The bitch is practically screaming from my panties for me to throw myself at Trent and start dry humping his leg like some sort of horny, rabid dog. Ever since he kissed me in the supply room, I honestly can't stop thinking about his lips on mine, his body against mine, his cock pressed against my belly. I pull myself away from my incessant dirty thoughts and attempt to act like I'm not affected by his very presence.

I laugh a little at his very forward response. "Do I get a say in this little plan of yours? I mean, you basically assaulted me in the supply room the other day. I'm concerned for my lips' safety around you."

"No, sweetheart, you only get to choose who's driving over there. And for your little assault comment, you wanted that kiss just as much as I did. But your sexy mouth is probably never going to be safe around me." Trent's blue eyes lock with mine, and his demeanor oozes sex.

I can't believe I'm even allowing this banter to occur. Red flags are flashing in my brain. I told myself that I would
not
fall for another man for a very long time, especially another physician, and yet here I am, engaging in a game of flirtatious banter with a sexy trauma surgeon whose body I just ogled for a good minute.

My hands itch to touch him.

My body seems to crave him in a way I never knew was possible.

My eyes keep attempting to wander southward on his body, just to get a glance at the bulge in his jeans. He makes me feel like a horny eighteen-year-old girl. A girl whose mind just keeps thinking about what a good, hard dicking from Trent Hamilton would actually feel like. If my vagina were running the show, my panties would be nonexistent and I would be rubbing myself all over his tight, muscular physique.
Thank god my brain is still working.
At least it's managing to work right now. Later, after I've had a few drinks, I can't make any promises.

I pull my keys out of my purse, give them a little jingle in front of his face, and say "Well,
sweetheart
, let's head out."

He coughs out a barking laugh and motions for me to walk ahead. "Ladies first."

We step out of the hospital and the warm summer breezes brushes against my face, leaving me feeling warm and gooey on the inside. I love summertime in Charlotte. I will admit that the weather can be blazing hot at times, but the easy access to nearby beaches makes it worth my while.

As we approach my car, I hit the unlock button and the headlights and interior of my red Shelby Mustang automatically light up.

"What the hell is this?" Trent has a shocked yet amused expression on his face.

"Trent, meet my baby, Shelby. She's quite the looker and has 550 horses to boot," I say with a little grin. I get in the front seat and push the key in the ignition so I can hear my Shelby's engine purr.

Trent slides into the black leather passenger seat and just looks at me with a pleasant smirk while shaking his head. "You are just full of surprises, Ellie."

"So I'm taking it that you like my Shelby girl?" I ask as I slowly pull out of the hospital parking lot. I can't ignore the fact that he just called me Ellie, but I honestly like it too much to correct him.

"I more than like this car. I fucking
love
this car. I hope one day I can take this car for a test drive."