Originally published in like, 2012, I think. Nothin' new and I still don't own Twilight.
Fatherhood, Formula, and Other F Words
Chapter 1: Famous Last Words
If you asked me what my favorite thing in the world was, I'd tell you it was under me. She was hot, good in bed, and didn't seem like the commitment type. Good for me and good for her. I wasn't going to get attached. I had my whole damn life ahead of me. Residency was over — thank the fucking Lord — and I was about to begin my career as a surgeon. Like I said, I had my whole life ahead of me. And from this angle, it looked pretty fucking bright.
Chicks had a thing for doctors; it wasn't a secret. I learned that fact my third year in med school. The scrubs, lab coat, fuck, the stethoscope… it all just beckoned them. They flocked to me, and dear God, I loved it. Like her, the girl under me. She wanted me for my profession. Her first words were, and I'm fucking quoting here: "Let's play doctor". Hell yeah, baby. We'll play doctor. We'll play doctor all fucking night.
The chick was good. Her mouth was fucking great. Trust me. I found that out quickly. Still, I'd never see her again, and that was A-OK with me. She was good, but she wasn't that good.
"Oh, doctor!" she screamed out as I pounded into her.
"Yeah, baby. You like that?" I whispered huskily in her ear.
It didn't take long for me to blow my load. It felt fucking amazing. I passed out next to the chick, praying she'd be gone by the time I woke up. Thankfully, I was right. I didn't see her again. . . .
. . . . .
Months passed and life was great. After finishing my residency in New York, my father offered me a job at his hospital in Port Angeles, Washington, my home town. Truthfully, I had it easy. I mean, I worked hard in school, but not many other surgeons had a cushy job just waiting for them like I did. I was my father's son, though. He had talented hands, and by some miracle, they were passed down to me. I did prove my skill over and over. If I wasn't a good surgeon, I had no doubt my father would be the first one to tell me. Before he officially hired me, he came to New York to observe my work. Apparently, he was impressed — even told me so.
"So, drinks tonight?" Jasper, my best friend, asked as I filled in a chart.
I had known Jasper since we were six. We grew up together along with Emmett. Truthfully, they were the best friends a guy could have. Nowadays, though, it was mostly just Jasper and me. Emmett was married — to my sister of all people — and just had a kid. I was happy for him. He knew what he wanted in life — the beautiful wife, nice house, great job, and kids. He was achieving his dreams. Jasper wanted similar things to Emmett, though he'd never outright say it. After we graduated high school — Emmett two years ahead of us — Jasper went to Seattle and earned his Bachelor of Science in nursing while I headed to New York for pre-med and medical school. When I had moved back about ten months ago, Jasper and Emmett were already working here at Olympic Medical Center. Emmett was a general surgeon like me, and Jasper was an ICU nurse. I guess all of us growing up around my father rubbed off somehow.
At twelve-years-old, I knew I wanted to be a doctor, just like my dad. He was brilliant. Everyone respected him, and he saved lives. There wasn't a more honorable career choice. Saving lives . . . that was what I wanted to do. The human body fascinated me to no end. Biology was my favorite subject. I was probably the happiest kid in class the day I held a scalpel for the first time to dissect a frog. It just felt . . . right in my hand. That was all I wanted. Kids . . . I wasn't good with, which was why I nearly killed myself during my peds rotation. As for a wife, I enjoyed the benefits of not being tied down. I didn't trust myself to be with one woman for the rest of my life, and I certainly didn't want to be a cheating bastard. Not getting married was perfect for me.
"Yeah, but I have to work first thing tomorrow, so I can't stay out too late," I told him.
"So you'll stay out long enough to get a chick and split?" he laughed, shaking his head. "Any way you can put your dick away for a while and just have drinks with me?"
"Sure, Jazz. I think my dick can go a night without a pussy wrapped around it."
I laughed and closed the chart, tucking my pen into my lab coat pocket. "Clock out, and let's go."
I ran into the locker room to change as soon as seven o'clock passed. With my ass only covered by the boxer-briefs, my father decided now was the time to talk. Just fucking great.
"I need you to stay and cover the ER," he said, fixing his own tie.
"You're fucking joking, right?" I asked.
He shook his head with a grimace. "Emmett called out. Ben is sick, and he needs to stay with him. Please, Edward, just stay tonight? Emmett will cover your shift tomorrow."
"The kid probably has a cold. He doesn't need a surgeon staying with him. He has his mother."
He sighed. "Rosalie is taking him to the pediatrician tomorrow. He's been sick a lot lately, and Emmett is concerned. This is your nephew we're talking about."
"Why don't you go stay with him then, huh? He's your grandson."
"Your mother and I have plans."
"I have plans."
"Getting wasted and winding up in bed with a stranger isn't much of a plan, son."
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my scrubs off the ground. "Fine, but this goes down as overtime, and I'm not working tomorrow. When seven o'clock rolls around, Emmett's ass better be here with bells on."
"Language, Edward. And thank you."
After bailing on Jasper and promising for tomorrow night, I got ready for another twelve hours by drinking a shitload of coffee. Thankfully, the night wasn't an entire bust. A car accident came through my ER doors and left me quite happy, elbows deep in blood and guts. The patient pulled through, which put a good old grin on my face. A save was nice, even more so considering it was a teenager. Saving anyone's life was rewarding, but when the patient was young and had his whole life ahead of him, ensuring he'd get to see adulthood felt pretty fucking great. It even put a skip in my tired ass step.
Aside from a few consults, none of which required surgery, I spent the rest of the night in the call room, sleeping on and off. The night shift wasn't entirely horrible, I guess.
. . . . .
As I walked up to my apartment the next morning, I noticed a woman in the hallway. She must have been the new neighbor I had heard about. She was small with long brown hair. When she lifted her face to meet mine, I stared into her eyes. They were huge and brown . . . nice, I guess. She looked so damned confused, with a box by her feet, as she tried to unlock her apartment door.
"I think that door sticks," I said. "The old neighbors would have to hit it sometimes. I figured building management would have fixed it."
"Oh, um, thanks?" Did she seriously put that in question form? Odd. "I'm Bella."
"Edward. I'll see you around," I said, unlocking my door and going in.
I realized I probably should have offered help or something. It would have been polite. After tossing my bag on the counter, I went back out to ask if she needed help, wanting to act neighborly or some shit, but she was already in the apartment. I shrugged and went back inside to get another few hours of sleep.
I saw New Girl again when I went out for my jog a few hours later. She was pulling clothes out of the passenger side of her old ass truck. Seriously, that shit was ancient. I didn't realize people actually drove those things anymore. It looked like it belonged in a junkyard or on the front lawn of a redneck. As she shut the door with her foot, her body tipped forward and she was sprawled out on the ground.
"Are you all right?" I asked, leaning down and picking up the clothes she dropped.
She sat up and looked at me. Her cheeks were as red as could be. "Yeah . . . thank you," she said, pulling herself up from the ground, using her truck door. She put her foot down and limped.
"You don't seem all right," I commented.
"I just twisted it. It's fine."
I nodded. "Okay, then . . . you should ice and rest it just in case, to prevent swelling."
She looked like a deer in the headlights. "Okay."
"Okay," I sighed, leaving her to her awkwardness. "Bye."
Clumsy, awkward, New Girl was weird. I let her be and started jogging, putting her out of my mind. I had more important things to worry about . . . like drinks tonight with Jasper. I already knew I wasn't going to keeping that promise about putting my dick away. I was a horny bastard and not afraid to admit it.