Chapter One

Hallie

There was a subtle chime ringing through halls filled with nursing staff, physical therapists, physicians, nutritionists, aids, and residents. Sunny Corner Long Term Care was home to nearly two-hundred Chicago residents. Although the sound occurred almost daily, it never got easier to hear. Everyone continued through their work, but there was also a brief pause out of respect. Some frowned, some wept, some performed the sign of the cross, and some just fell silent. This chiming only occurred for a loss of life.

For me, it was a mixture of feelings. For some residents I cared for, the sound came as a blessing. It was hard to see people I cared for in pain. For those particular Sunny Corner patients, there was a breath of relief, knowing they were no longer hurting. Some passed away in their sleep, and I found that comforting. The ones that died unexpectedly, though... the news was never easy to hear and often left me in tears during the drive home. Where some people kept going about their workday, my heart couldn't bear the thought of that chime being a sudden event for one of my patients.

For two years, I was assigned to Hallway C. It was an overflow area with a mixture of patient-types. Currently, this hallway housed three terminally ill cancer patients, six elderly patients, and two patients in need of physical rehabilitation. There was unease in my stomach as I checked each room for an empty bed. Thankfully, as I worked my way from one end of the hall to the other, I was greeted by smiling faces. Each was enjoying their meatloaf dinner. The residents loved meatloaf Mondays.

"I ain't dead yet," a growly male voice boomed before I'd finished sanitizing my hands.

"I had no doubt," I said jokingly. "You'll outlive me out of spite, Harold."

His eyes rolled, but we both knew it was true.

Harold Cooey was the definition of a pain in the ass patient. He'd joke about his demise daily, but the only reason he was a resident was because of falling off a ladder, shattering his pelvis in three places and fracturing some vertebra. Once his physical therapy was complete, and he was walking again, both of our days would be better. Even though he had moments that made my work as a nursing assistant miserable, there was something about him I liked. We both took no shit from anyone. He was admirable in that way.

"You didn't eat your meatloaf." I observed, pulling his rollaway table from his bedside.

"Tastes like horseshit."

"Everyone loves the meatloaf."

"I don't. I hate it."

"You hate everything."

Harold smiled at that. He always did. The meatloaf only seemed to join the hated list on this particular Monday. The man had been here for almost two months and had eaten it just fine until now. It would be an hour before the light would be on above his doorway, signaling for me to return with more food. For that reason, I left the tray within his reach.

"Do you need anything before I make another round?"

His eyebrow lifted, making my head shake with a no. "You didn't eat your meatloaf. The doctor said you could have one beer after dinner. Nurse Laurie won't let that fly."

"I can't watch my Cubs without my beer!"

"And you can't have the beer without your meatloaf." My arms crossed. This was like arguing with a child.

"It tastes like ass!"

"Knock, knock." A familiar voice chuckled from the doorway. "Did I hear someone doesn't like the meatloaf?"

My face rouged, matching the color of my scrubs, and my stomach did that twisty thing that only happened when Clint was around. Harold took notice, glancing between the physical therapist and me. Clint always had my undivided attention. The man was positively gorgeous. Something about his silver hair, killer smile, and the way he liked to make people bend their bodies had mine wanting to be used in whatever ways he saw fit.

"I thought we could work on you sitting up one more time before I leave for the night," Clint said.

"No can do." Harold pulled at the table so it once again hovered over his lap. "Blondie here says I need to eat."

"Well,"—Clint grinned in my direction—"I wouldn't want to upset her by intruding on your mealtime."

"He's all yours." My hands landed on my hips. "He just wants his beer."

"Traitor." Harold huffed before shoving a forkful of meatloaf into his mouth.

"I'll come back once that plate is clean." Clint offered a wink in my direction that could have turned me into a puddle. "Let's see if that beer is worth sitting up for."

"That wasn't the deal!" the elderly man argued, tossing the fork back to the table with a clank.

Clint had already left the room, missing the tantrum completely. I swiveled on my heel towards Harold, beaming that the hot doc helped get my patient to eat. I wasn't expecting the patient to be grinning back.

"He's too old for you."

"Bullshit," I spat back with a giggle. "He's perfect."

"That man is a couple years away from a midlife crisis and little blue pills to get it up, blondie."

"Hurry and eat your damn meatloaf, Harold. The sooner you clear that plate, the sooner his ass is back in this room."

Harold laughed, picking up the fork. "You're just jealous that he's going to have me on my back and not you."

He wasn't wrong.

>><<

This thing is three times as big as the picture. My vagina is quaking with fear when it should quake with the orgasm your website promised. Honestly, this thing could be a goddamn doorstop instead of a dildo. It's the width of my hairspray bottle. When I take a real dick again, I'd prefer the poor guy wasn't tossing his sausage down a hallway. No way I'm stretching myself out with this demon. 0/5 stars. I don't recommend it!

The laptop was slapped shut and pushed to the other end of the bed. The dragon toy, which was definitely not being used tonight, was thrown towards an open closet. Money wasted. The number of times I frequented my favorite sex toy shop was fast becoming embarrassing. In order to keep the size of the collection a secret, I resorted to purchasing online. This was now the fourth purchase and second poor review I'd left. The frustration wasn't just with the manufacturers, but with the people who had left excellent reviews. Kudos to the women who could shove something like that up their cooters—I wouldn't be joining that club anytime soon. With the loss of tonight's plans, I left the bed to change into warm pajamas.

There was no need to view a clock to know the time had now hit midnight. The noise that came from the restaurant below the apartment floors had died down an hour ago, and now the music had stopped. Sometimes the noise was bothersome, depending on how rowdy the patrons were, but mostly it was the apartment itself that kept me awake. Since fall had arrived, it felt like there was no way to find warmth. The radiator was vibrating loudly, but some days I didn't believe it worked. Nights were spent in baggy sweats, sweatshirts, and the warmest socks I could find.

The apartment above Mulligan's restaurant—in the heart of downtown Chicago—was only called home for the last three months. With the growing number of double shifts and night classes I had taken on, most of my spent time was outside of its walls. This wasn't at all heartbreaking, because of my new roommate practically never leaving it. His bartending shifts occurred in the restaurant downstairs, and when those were over, he ascended the stairway just to make my life miserable. For instance, after tonight's shift at the nursing home, I returned to a sink full of dishes—some that still had food on them. A housekeeper, I was not, but not even I could be that disgusting. It still had me in a foul mood, which may or may not have been taken out on a sex toy review.

Even though my eyelids were droopy after a long day of work, I crawled back into bed with my phone and waited for it to ring. If they shut the doors of the restaurant, that meant my best friend—one of four chefs that worked in the kitchen below—had left an hour ago. Sloan would call from her own bed at any moment. Where once we had been roommates and could crawl into each other's beds at night to discuss our days, Sloan was now happily engaged to another chef and living with him in their new-to-them home.

The phone had barely let out its first ring before I had slid a thumb across the screen to answer. "He left mac and cheese in the pan and put it in the sink. He's a man-child!"

"Hello to you too," a sleepy Sloan greeted.

"He's disgusting! I miss you. Are you sure you want to marry Ollie?"

There was giggling on the other end of the call that made my heart lighten. This time, two years ago, it was a sound I feared I'd never hear again. We both knew this wedding was definitely happening. Ollie put all the pieces of Sloan back together again after her world had shattered. No one should bury their best friend and husband at twenty-two. Ollie Mulligan was a godsend. His brother was a disgrace as a replacement roommate.

"He's stuck with me. In three weeks, he's all mine. Bought and paid for."

Without a knock, the bedroom door opened. I pivoted my head just briefly to see Mikah toss every paisley-printed pillow from the living room couch to the floor of my room. It wasn't the first time he'd tried to purge them, and it wouldn't be the last.

"Speaking of Satan himself." I kept the phone pressed to my ear. I glared at Mikah for the intrusion. "What if I had been naked? Can't you knock?"

His stare narrowed, and he grabbed the door to close it. "My eyes would have melted from the atrocious sight," he countered. "You don't exist tonight. Stay in here."

"Excuse me?"

"Every time I bring a girl up here, they see your frilly shit and assume I'm cheating or something. I'm getting laid tonight. Don't leave this room and keep your voice down."

"My pillows aren't the problem, Mikah!" I said, hearing Sloan begin a conversation with Ollie as she waited for me to return. "Did you ever think they flee because they see you're a goddamn slob?"

With an eye roll, he slammed the door shut again.

"Ugh!" I growled into the phone. "Did you hear that? He's infuriating."

"He's super organized with the way he runs the bar," Sloan offered. "Maybe he was running late and didn't have time to do the dishes."

"Don't give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Fine. I won't. We need to change the subject, anyway. I have to talk to you about something."

"Uh, huh?" I slid my way out of the bed and went to the closed door. Pressing my ear to it, I heard Mikah and his date enter the apartment. It was barely a minute before I heard them fumbling down the hallway with giggles. His bedroom door shut behind them.

Gross.

"I did a thing..."

"A thing," I agreed, keeping the conversation flowing and glancing around the darkened room's floor.

Sloan rambled on about something she had done without getting to the point. It was normal when she was nervous to tell me something. She'd spit it out, eventually. For now, it gave me time to find tonight's ammo. I found exactly what I was looking for beside the closet and grabbed it. Stealthily, I turned the knob of the door and entered the equally dark hall.

"It's something we both said we would never do," Sloan continued.

I paused, standing straight from my sneaky position. "Sloan! You let him fuck your butt?"

"Oh my God, Hallie! No. I did not. Pay attention!"

"I am!"

I entered the bathroom without turning the light on and remained quiet... as demanded by my roommate. There was already moaning from the room directly across the hall.

"Ew." I cringed. "Can you hear that? That's too loud. She's clearly faking it. No one could be that good in bed for those noises to occur."

"Hallie, you aren't listening."

"Yes, I am," I whispered. "You did a thing we said we'd never do. Your anal virginity is intact. What did you do?"

"Don't be mad..."

"I won't."

"Don't be disappointed in me..."

This made me pause. Other than inviting my ex to the wedding, which was a given and still something we hadn't discussed, there was only one thing Sloan could have done to make me mad or disappointed. It was more than something we had mentioned not doing... we made a promise. Two orphaned girls conjoined our pinky fingers years ago and promised we would never do this. It was a promise not taken lightly, and now the churning of my stomach was confirming it before Sloan even breathed the words.

"Don't even tell me..."

"I took one of those ancestry DNA tests," Sloan admitted.

"And?" I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying anything I'd regret.

"And I found my dad."

My head dropped back, and I took a long, needed, deep breath. The dragon dildo in my grasp was slammed to the countertop of the bathroom vanity. Mikah having to explain frilly pillows on the couch and a female roommate would have been much easier than explaining the reason behind this monster being in the bathroom of a bachelor pad. I was going to need that laugh in the morning after the bombshell my best friend had just dropped on me.