The Devil Wears Scrubs (Dr. Jane McGill, #1)

by Freida McFadden

I think I might be able to set up a tent in his belly button with an adjacent fireplace.

My hands are sweaty. I wipe them on the couch and leave behind two little sweat stains.

“You’re presenting a patient to me and you didn’t even look at his buttocks?”

Because they’re books. How can you get rid of a book? That’s like throwing away knowledge.

“Goody!” Did I say that out loud?

It’s kind of cool. And by “cool,” I obviously mean it’s completely terrifying and I want to curl up in a corner and hide under a big pile of coats.

casually sidesteps the legs of a bum

Chance of doing something else dumb in the next 18 hours: 110%

it would be like God coming down from heaven and just, like, hanging out at the mall.

This is one of those moments where you can do one of two things: Burst into tears, shaking fist at the heavens, and yell out, “Nooooooo!!!!!!!” Laugh.