Chapter One
I didn't attend four years of nursing school to work at a sperm bank, but the money and hours are better than hospital shift work. When my ex turned into a dipshit, we divorced, and I needed extra dough, so here I am. I have to eat. In addition to a great salary and even better benefits, I receive a twenty percent employee discount should I ever need to inseminate myself. It’s moot since I’m perimenopausal and no longer possess a uterus.
My job isn’t totally nuts. I meet interesting people, hear amazing stories, and have a hand in the creation of life. I’m, um, fulfilled when I leave work every day. I don’t have to be involved in collecting the sample, so what do I care what a patient is doing in the room next to me?
“One-four-three-two-zero-eight,” I call the next patient from the waiting room.
A man in a black button-down shirt stands from the corner of the room and throws a wave up at me. “That's me.”
“Fuck me,” I murmur when I zero in on his face.
A razor-sharp jawline and cheekbones frame one of the most beautifully masculine faces I’ve ever seen. His short dirty blonde hair is perfectly tousled. And my God, the crystal blue eyes on the man are enough to give a girl heart palpitations.
“I’m sorry?” he asks when he makes it to me from across the room. His brows knit together as his gaze settles upon me, and I realize I’m staring hard.
Why am I such a weirdo? I clear my throat. “Right this way.”
I go through the rigamarole of the process on autopilot and try not to look at him for an inappropriate length of time. He’s such a striking man.
“You can collect a specimen cup here,” I say and wave my hand in front of the table filled with medical supplies. “Next, if you’ll collect a basket from underneath the counter in the room, there will be material to aid in the collection process.”
“Material?” he asks.
“Material.” I wriggle a naughty brow.
He smirks, and a dimple appears on the right side of his mouth. “Ah, yes, material.”
After the last part of my rundown, I show 143208 to a collection room. “If you’ll let me know when you’re finished, I’ll grab the sample.”
“Thank you.”
I run down to the nurses' station with his chart against my chest. I throw it against the desk and open the folder to see his picture. After snooping through his information, I learn his name is Wyatt Nolan , and he’s thirty. The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it yet. I shut the folder and gaze around to make sure no one saw me acting like a stalker. And then I dig my phone from my scrub pocket to message my best friend, Sadie.
Valerie: Is it okay to ask a man on a date at a sperm bank? Is the setting that important? Asking for a friend.
Immediately, three little dots begin to dance in the lower right corner of my phone screen.
Sadie: Depends.
Valerie: On what?
Sadie: Girth and length.
I snort and do my best not to make a racket about it.
Valerie: No other credentials needed?
Sadie: Listen, my girl, you gotta clear the cobwebs out of your vajayjay sometime. What better time to start than now?
Sighing, I decide she’s wrong. Sex hasn’t been a priority in my life for a very long time. Who am I kidding? Nick has never been a stallion in the sack or a man who seems to want to do more than grunt and have an orgasm on top of me. If I was lucky, he got it over in under two minutes. He wasn’t interested in sex very often, but I guess that’s because he was fucking his best friend and has been for longer than we’ve been together.
Sex doesn’t interest me as much as some of my perimenopausal soul sisters. Many of them want it often. I haven’t been gifted with the urge, instead, I’m fighting night sweats. Nothing makes a woman feel more in the mood than nauseating hot flashes and insomnia.
Valerie: I don’t see the point in chasing a man around for sex. Plus, he's fourteen years younger than me.
Sadie: Get that young dick.🍆🍆🍆
I tuck my phone away and ignore her. I’m most certainly not getting any young dick, especially not from someone I’ve met at my job.
I mean, I could get his number, except, how awkward is it that we’re only separated by several feet and a wall while he’s taking care of business. And only moments after we met? Visions of what he might look like as he pleasures himself swim through my mind, and I quickly decide I’m too embarrassed to even ask for his number after knowing what he’s been doing on his lunch break.
I leave the nurses' station, pad my way to the collection room for 143208, and stretch my neck towards the room’s door as I pass by. Where are my Inspector Gadget ears when I need them? I have no idea what I’m listening for, because all Nick ever did was grunt and convulse. He sounded more like an animal than a man.
When I walk past all the collection rooms, I dead end in the hallway. Turning around, I make my way back to Mr. Nolan’s room.
I walk a little closer to the door on my way back to the nurses' station just past Wyatt’s collection room. I swear I hear something like a strangled cry come from the room, so I pull my pen out of my pocket and throw it on the ground in front of his door. I look both ways to be sure, take a step to the door, press my ear to it, and hear another concerning sound. A grunt and the distinct sound of a man finishing himself off fills the room on the other side of the door.
Hawt.
The distinct crash of a metal object against a tile floor interrupts my spicy dream. What if he’s hurt? I don’t really think as I jump into action. I clear my throat, steel myself to look 143208 in the eye, and knock on the door before opening it wide. Crystal blue eyes meet mine, then shock and horror flicker across his orbs.
“What are you doing?!!” he yells, and I jump in my own skin.
“I’m so sorry!” I yell back.
“Get out!” he shouts, and I close the door hard enough to shake the others in the hall.
I walk into the break room and pound my head against my locker. If this dude tells my boss, I will most certainly lose my job. I can’t afford to lose my job. It’s not the most glamorous of nursing positions, but I’ve grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle on my current salary. It’s the most money I’ve ever made in my life, and I’d like to hold on to it.
The door to the collection room squeaks open, and I dash from the break room to the nurses' station to meet him there just in time.
“Excuse me,” 143208 levels me with a terse, disapproving stare. “I think you need to examine your professionalism.”
“I’manurse,” I reply in a jumbled sentence. “I’veseenitall.” I wave it off like it’s not a big deal I saw his pecker. I may work at a sperm bank, but I’m not a pecker connoisseur by any stretch of the imagination. He doesn’t know that though. “Big, small, brown, red. Seen ‘em all.”
Why am I still talking?
His right brow arches. “You’re a strange woman.” He hands me the specimen cup as he glares at me.
I happily accept the cup like it’s the most precious sperm in all the world. “Thank you for your donation.”
We both cringe at my reply.
Smooth. Real smooth, Val.
