Sweet Nothing (16 page)

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Authors: Jamie McGuire,Teresa Mummert

BOOK: Sweet Nothing
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With my hair in knots and my insides wonderfully sore, I stretched in bed, the floor peppered with tossed undergarments. My apartment was familiar but unfamiliar. The sheets smelled like a sweet combination of my lotion, Josh’s cologne, spilled cheap wine, and sex. I glimpsed at the clock, grateful it was my day off.

Josh was gone. I wasn’t sure what time his shift had begun, but he had warned me before I asked him to stay that he wasn’t so lucky.

I reached for his pillow that was once the spare, hugged it to my chest, and rolled onto my back, looking up at the ceiling. Every detail from the previous night replayed in my mind: the way his shoes sounded against my floor, the way his skin tasted, how his hands felt on the parts of me no one else had touched in quite a while. I remembered the glorious pressure of his fingertips digging into my skin, the filling sensation when he had slid inside me, his stomach gliding against mine with every thrust, his arms tensing, and the sound he had made when he came. My thighs tensed. I’d wanted the night to last forever, and I wanted to go back and do it all over again.

I let go of his pillow and rolled out of bed, trudging to the bathroom. The pipes rattled and whined when I turned the knob of the tiny shower. I paused, looking down into the trash can. A used condom. The soap dish had been moved. Droplets of water in the sink. Someone else had occupied the space of my apartment. It was strangely exhilarating.

I stepped under the water, for a moment mourning that I was washing away of any evidence that Josh had made himself at home against my skin. We had been tangled together for a night. We had gone from practically strangers to lovers in the span of a month—since the accident.

The water was hot, but I began to shiver. There was only one thing worse than Josh living up to his reputation. He had changed so much in such a short amount of time. I hadn’t known him all that well before, but what I had known of him … he had left all that behind.
Why me?
One of my instructors in nursing school had touched on the Florence Nightingale effect, where a caregiver develops romantic feelings for his or her patient.

I scrubbed my hair and skin, and then twisted the knob, standing in my shower, dripping wet and alone—again. I wasn’t paranoid. This was all too good to be true, and at any moment, I would wake up. My head panged, and I made a mental note to find the ibuprofen.

I wrapped a white fluffy towel around me, feeling emptier as the elation from when I had first woken up faded. Josh was different because he wasn’t himself. He had watched a woman he was casually flirting with get pounded by a tractor-trailer, and then he had held her until help arrived. That would be traumatic for anyone. The sad part was he didn’t even know it was happening.

I jumped when three knocks shook the door. I tucked wet strands behind my ear and padded out of my bedroom and past the couch and coffee table. I peeked from the door, opening it just enough that the chain lock caught. Josh was standing on the other side with a sweet smile and two coffees. He was in a navy T-shirt with white insignia, navy cargo pants, and black lace-up boots.

“Hey,” he said, his head dipping down. “Everything okay?”

“I’m, um … What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

He held up both hands. “I made breakfast. Sorry I had to leave so early. I should have brought my clothes, but you know … didn’t want to assume anything. Not that I did. I’m on the clock, but we just dropped off a patient at St. Ann’s and I started missing you, and …” As he rambled, he noticed the look on my face. His expression changed. “What’s going on, Avery? Is everything all right?”

“I’m okay.” I tried to smile, but it felt crooked.

“Let’s talk.” He scanned my body from chin to ankles, and then his eyes drifted back up, stopping on the water dripping from the ends of my hair. He leaned over to look past me, and then the muscles in his jaw ticked under his taut skin.

“I just have a headache. I’m really okay.”

“Avery. Let me in.”

I slid the lock until it released. Josh immediately pushed the door open, looking around. He passed me to walk into the bedroom, spent a few seconds in the bathroom, and then returned to the living room, tripping over the area rug beneath my couch.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

He was breathing through his nose, slightly trembling, his eyes wild.

“You’re angry?” I asked.

He looked away, his jaw tightening. Without thinking, I yanked the necklace he’d given me over my head and held it out to him. His mouth fell open, as if I’d slapped him in the face.

“Just wait a second, Avery. Let’s take a second and think about this.”

I arched my eyebrow, obstinate. The penny still dangled from the chain in my hand, just inches from his chest.

“Are you fucking kidding me? That’s it?”

“Please,” I said, unimpressed. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” I pushed to my tiptoes and looped the necklace over his head before sinking back down on the heels of my feet, my hands on my hips. “Penny for your thoughts.”

Lifting the small copper circle into his large palm, he stared at it for a moment before a ghost of a smile appeared, fading as quickly as it had arrived.

He sighed in defeat, but the fight had just begun.

“I thought maybe …”

“What?”

“Someone else was here.”

“What?” I shrieked. The only thing in the apartment that wasn’t exactly the same when he’d left was me. I couldn’t fathom why he’d even think such a thing. The dress he’d slipped off me hours before was still hanging halfway off the wooden coffee table, my bra was still in a small, lacy heap in the bedroom doorway, and my panties were still tangled somewhere in the sheets.

Josh huffed, trying to reign in his temper. “You answered the door with the chain locked and then left me standing in the hallway like I’m some stranger you don’t want in your apartment … You’re acting all nervous and weird! What the hell was I supposed to think?” His voice rose as his frustration increased with each word.

“That I had someone in here the morning after we … Are you
serious
?” My stomach turned. Someone had to have done this to him before. He was heavily guarded, and I had only scratched the surface of his armor. His eyes widened, as if he knew I’d seen too much.

“Whoa,” he said, holding the coffees out in front of him. “Let’s start over.”

I crossed my arms across my middle.

“What’s going on with you, Avery? Why are you acting so strange? Is it because of last night? Is it too weird now? Are you not sure? About …
me
?”

“Stop. You’re overreacting,” I said, holding up my hands, palms out.

He looked at his watch and then sighed, a deep growl resonating from his chest. “I have to go. Please tell me what’s wrong. I’m gonna go nuts all day worrying about it.”

“Why?” I dropped my hands and groaned, exasperated.

He wrinkled his nose. “Huh?”


Why
would you worry about it?”

His face twisted, as if I had begun speaking a foreign language. “Avery, what the hell?”

“You’re so different.”

“So are you,” he spat back. “You were fine last night. Now that we’ve … you’re trying to bail.”

“I’m not trying to bail. But you … I’ve dated people. You don’t, you—”

“When?” he asked, his tone accusatory.

I frowned, insulted. “I’ve lived a long time before you came around, Josh Avery. You’re not my first relationship, if that’s what this even is.”

“If that’s what this
is
? What else would this be, Avery?”

“Well, the arrogance certainly hasn’t changed.”

He walked away with his fingers interlocked on top of his head. He let his hands fall to his thighs and then turned to face me. “You might have had boyfriends before me, but you haven’t been this way with anyone else. I know it. You know it. Stop bullshitting me. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“No one changes overnight, Josh. No one is one way their whole life and then changes for one person.”

Disappointment darkened his face. “I haven’t played games. I’ve put it all on the table, and now you’re … What are you
doing
, Avery? Is this the part where you try to push me away?”

“No,” I said, tears burning my eyes. Pressure continued to build inside my chest. “Think about it. Why is this so easy for you? Why is this so different with me than with anyone else? You act so different around me. What do expect me to believe? You’ve had an epiphany?”

“Yes, a fucking epiphany! Tell me!” he yelled.

I swallowed, afraid if I said it out loud, the dream would be over. “Did this happen because of the accident? Because you saw me get hurt?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation.

Like a knee-jerk reaction, I sucked in a gasp, his confession feeling worse than the collision that had catapulted our relationship.

“Avery,” he said, setting the cups on the coffee table. “If they’re lucky, assholes like me have a moment where they wake up. Holding you after the accident … that was mine. It’s not because I feel sorry for you or I have some sort of God complex.” He took a breath, trying to calm down. “I’ve been begging you for dates and I’m standing at your door with coffee because I’m different. I’m different because I want to be the man you think you see.”

“You’re not an asshole,” I murmured.

“I was. We can agree this is a good change. I should have made a move a long time ago, Avery. I’ve wasted too much time already. Nearly losing you before I had you made me see that.”

I chewed my lip, waiting for him to come to a different conclusion. It was all too real, too soon, and it terrified me that I was giving my heart to someone who knew how to break it.

“Avery … baby …” He looked at his watch, and what he saw made his jaw dance under his skin. “I have to leave for work.”

I nodded. “It’s okay. Really. I’m sorry I brought this up now.”

“Tell me you’re okay. Tell me
we’re
okay.”

I nodded again, and he walked over to me. He pulled me into his chest and I breathed him in, already feeling better. This wasn’t a game or a challenge or post-traumatic stress. He cared about me. I just needed to believe I was worth caring about.

He kissed my temple. “Wait for me. I’ll be back later. We’ll talk more.”

“I’m really okay. Just had a moment,” I said, feeling foolish.

Josh knotted his fingers in my wet hair with one hand and tugged until I looked up at him. He sealed his mouth over mine, kissing me hard and forceful, keeping my bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away, leaving his mark on my clean skin once again. “Eight hours,” he said. He picked up his cup and slammed the door behind him, still amped from our argument and the kiss.

I went to the door, replaced the chain lock, and then backed up until the coffee table touched the backs of my bare calves.

“Holy shit,” I breathed.

 

 

It was coming. I could feel it following me around my apartment, to JayWok, and sitting in the empty chair across from me while I ate my leftover chicken fried rice in the break room. With every bite, every sip of water, and every person who walked in and out, I was saturated. I was falling hard for Josh Avery, McPanties, the paramedic who couldn’t be tamed.

“I love you, but you’re fucking stupid. And yes, I mean Josh,” Deb said, sitting across from me while licking grease off her fingers.

“He’s not stupid,” I snapped.

“You’re right. He has good taste in women. Since last month. You know I would never insinuate that Carissa fucking Ashton tastes like anything but a cat fart dunked in leftovers from a yeast infection.”

I swallowed back the bile that rose in my throat just from involuntarily imagining her description. “Deb, how are you friends with anyone who isn’t a nurse? It’s like I had to be able to keep it together while simultaneously cleaning up shit and holding a barf bag just to qualify.”

She paused before taking another bite of her cheeseburger. “Didn’t you?”

I rolled my eyes and threw a soy sauce packet at her face. “I’m outta here.”

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