8:23 PM - FROSTED COOKIE

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McSexy reaches for the sphygmomanometer on my arm and pulls the Velcro cuff open, causing a cringe-worthy sound similar to a hairy man getting his back waxed. "What are you doing?" he asks, seemingly both bewildered and amused.

I grab his biceps to focus his attention on the importance of what I'm about to say, when--

Oh my God, I think to myself, gently squeezing his arm muscles. McSexy's biceps are hard, shapely and hot beneath my fingers. For a split second, I try to imagine what it would feel like to be cradled inside the protective embrace of similar limbs, defined abs and pecs that go on for days. Unfortunately, my brain malfunctions while replicating a believable scenario in my imagination. Despite having fistfuls of sexy man-flesh in my grasp, my mind can't bridge the gap between a harlequin romance cover and real life experiences. At this point in time, my personal knowledge of man-cuddling is limited--existing somewhere behind the adjective wall of scrawny, squishy and pillow'ish. Clearly, like attracts like.

Placing the sphygmomanometer on the counter, McSexy asks, "Why aren't you in your room?"

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Placing the sphygmomanometer on the counter, McSexy asks, "Why aren't you in your room?"

I squeeze his biceps a few more times. My partially open mouth patiently waits for a response from my fashionably late voice box--again. Damn it, woman! Focus!

McSexy holds up an index finger. "Actually, hold that thought." He points to his clipboard. "I need to log this in the computer. Pharmacy is slow tonight."

I release my grip on McSexy's arms and watch the handsome nurse strut down a nearby hallway. That ass, my inner fangirl squeals. Oh. My. God. THAT ass!

Glancing over his shoulder, McSexy instructs with a chuckle, "Get back in your room. Now!"

I step off the knickknack scale and hesitate for a moment, straining my ears for possible sounds of Bubbles's return. Nothing. Only the distant noise of--I don't know--medical and healing stuff? Screw it, I think to myself. McSexy's fine. Everything's fine. You're worrying about nothing.

Just as I'm about to return to my examination room, a door opens and SilverFox emerges eating a frosted sugar cookie. We both freeze. He appears confused as to why an unescorted patient is in an employee only zone. I'm straight up--scurred. My heart's pumping so fast, it feels as though my neck is pulsating and my body temperature has been turned up to broil.

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