by Amelia Wilde
“Any conclusions?” I ask.
Brooklyn’s phone buzzes, her alarm announcing it’s time to go to work. She closes her eyes. And for the first time, I realize she isn’t enjoying the job as much as she used to. It’s not only me.
“Graveyard shift?”
“Yes,” she huffs. “I shouldn’t have gone out last night.”
“It was fun,” I counter.
“The jury is still out on that.” She stands up, waving goodbye and leaving the porch without a word.
What happened? She said she enjoyed the acoustic performance. She danced with Kevin, who stayed in the guest room last night, promising to come along during our next outing. Did I miss something?
“Is she okay?”
“Maybe she’s as tired as I am.” I take back the papers, sliding them inside the folder. “What’s the plan for tonight, Hawk?”
He extends his hand. As I take it, he pulls me toward him. His mouth crashes against mine, the kiss a mix of longing and sweetness. “Movies, bed, sex? You choose, I’ll follow your lead.”
“Netflix,” I respond, walking to the house. “Aren’t you supposed to be working tonight?”
“I made a deal with Kevin.” He smirks, winking at me. “Tonight, I’m all yours. We can snuggle on the couch and eat all the M&Ms I have in my backpack.”
“Well this is going to be awkward, I don’t like snuggling.” I hear Austin’s voice calling out behind me. When I turn there he is with a wide flirty smile eyeying my…Anderson? “But I’m down for the challenge if needed.”
Pointing at him, I serve him with a nasty glare. “Eyes off my man, big brother.”
We both laugh as I walk to his open arms giving him a hug. “What are you doing here?”
“I was only a few blocks away, doing a house visit for one of my cases.” He presses his lips tight, moving his attention to Anderson. “Austin Zimmerman,” he extends his hand while sizing him up. My brother is one inch shy of six feet, but looks a lot smaller than my Anderson. “Nice to meet you. You must be Aspy’s boyfriend.”
Boyfriend? My eyes widen. We don’t have a title. We’re hanging out. The sex is good. No, it’s extraordinary. Should we have a title? Boyfriend is too serious. It’s something two people in a long term relationship can say. How is he going to take it? Will he run because my brother assumes he’s my boyfriend? Anderson and I…
“Yeah, man,” Anderson responds releasing his hand and hugging me on the side. “I’m the lucky guy dating your sister.”
My muscles relax. My heart beats normally, yet my chest burns. There’s a total ambiguity to his words. It’s relaxing hearing he’s okay with us dating casually. Why would I worry that he didn’t say the word? Boyfriend. He didn’t because being one means we’re serious. We can’t and shouldn’t be serious. We only became a thing a few weeks back. Then why does it feels that we’ve known each other for so long? Why is everything between us so intense? Each kiss and touch between us is like a mark—a tattoo inked into my soul with the most vivid hue of every emotion.
“What did you do with the properties and money Dad left you, Aussie?” I change the subject to the most trivial one I can find.
His eyebrow arches, his head angles and his arms cross. “Why? Do you need money?”
“A loan, yes.”
He scratches his dark beard, those brown eyes similar to mine staring at me. “The two buildings in Boston are affordable housing for families with low incomes, and I sold the apartment in Hawaii to run those buildings. How much do you need?”
I smile at him, kissing his cheek. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known, do you know that?”
“You’d think, but I did it to spite our father. Those low income families are part of the LGBTQIA community. He would hate it.” He laughs, not accepting the praise. No matter the motive, he’s a thoughtful man and I’m very proud of him. “What do you need money for, squirt?”
Shaking my head, I swing the door open holding the paperwork. “Nothing important, just running my options. Come on, let’s make some popcorn, and watch something fun.” I place the papers I have in my hand down on the coffee table, and head to the kitchen. “We should celebrate this. Two days in a row seeing each other is inprecedented.”
“Move to downtown Seattle. I have two extra rooms and there’re plenty of hospitals there.”
“We just might,” I hint, getting ready to spend some time with two of my favorite guys.
20
Anderson
On most Monday mornings, I wake up at six, go for a run, head to the offices to train new recruits, and work on the back end of some missions or help with the next prototypes. Today I’m sitting in my car, waiting for my girlfriend to come back from work. I’m trying to understand why the fucker she dated parked in front of her house for hours while he waited for her to appear. The craving to have her in my arms and the worry in my heart as she continues working a job she used to love both have increased.
I have an offer for her. One I hope she will take; helping with the care of my mother full time. In a few weeks, I have to join Tiago in Colorado. Mom is coming back in a couple of weeks, and according to the doctor in San Jose, her health is going to decline progressively. Knowing that Aspen is with her lightens my worry. If I pay her, she doesn’t have to worry about work. I check the time, seven-thirty and she hasn’t arrived home yet. Wasn’t her shift over at three? I should’ve offered to pick her up.
My phone rings, her name appears on the screen of my dashboard.
“Hey.” I push the button to answer. “Are you okay?”
“Hm. Not really,” she pauses, “there’s this creepy truck in front of my house. Can you run his plates?” She bursts into laughter.
“Smart ass,” I grumble, pushing the door open and climbing out as I see her truck pulling into the driveway.
“Did you sleep?” she asks walking toward me. I kiss her pouty lips, evading the answer. “Brynn says you’ve been parked there since midnight.”
“Three in the morning,” I correct her. “Brynn didn’t see me until six when she went for a run with Hugo.”
“All the same, you’ve been parked stalking my house. Why?”
I couldn’t sleep without you? No, too needy. “What took you so long?”
“Accidents, shootings, baby.” The corner of her lip pulls, her eyes turn hazy. “This little tiny baby I delivered only a couple of hours ago.”
She squeezes her eyes, clapping slightly. “A girl. She’s the reason I stayed longer. A teenage girl arrived with painful cramps and unbearable back pain.” Aspen presses her lips clasping her hands and fidgiting with her fingers. “Contractions.”
“They didn’t know?”
Aspen shrugs, giving me a ‘what can I say?’ look. “Maybe the girl knew and she was trying to convince her parents otherwise. Maybe all of them were in denial and hoped that I would prescribe some miracle medication. Who knows, I don’t judge. My job was to diagnose her, and afterward, she begged me to stay. I did until I delivered the baby. In the meantime, I had a conversation with her about options.
“Her parents interceded and said they would help raise the baby while she continued school.” Aspen smiles. “It was the perfect solution for them. I won’t lie, I almost offered to adopt the tiny, adorbable baby.”
I freeze, staring at her. Did she just say what I think she did?
Aspen claps her hands against my cheeks. “Oh God, you just freaked out, didn’t you?” Pushing herself up, and lowering my face she presses my lips against her. “I better not tell you about baby fever then.”
Gasping for air, I follow behind her stunned. Yes, I freaked out with her comment. Can she blame me? Was she planning on coming home and say, ‘look honey, I brought you some Starbucks and a baby?’
“Oh look, your stalker is here,” Brynn comments giving me a side glance as we enter the kitchen. “Coffee is ready. Muffins are warming up in the oven, and I even squeezed some juice for you, honey.”
&nbs
p; “How sweet, Brooklyn. Fresh, bitter grapefruit juice from the bottle. Is there any orange juice?” Brynn shakes her head. Aspen pours herself some coffee, handing it to me. “I’ll go grocery shopping later today.”
“Please don’t confuse your Google search with my Medical degree.” I laugh at her ridiculous mug. “Do all your mugs have a medical related quote?”
“We collect them,” Aspen retorts. “It started as a joke. Then friends, colleagues and family started gifting them to us.”
“Doctors have strange quirks,” Brynn continues the conversation, as she eats her Cinamon Toast Crunch with Froot Loops.
“Like baby fever,” Aspen jumps back into the conversation. When I lift my head to glance her way she’s eyeing me suspiciously, suppressing a laugh. “Do you want a muffin, Hawk?”
Brynn huffs, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand. “Oh no, I knew you were too gleeful. We are not having a baby in this house.”
“What is baby fever?”
They go on with their explanation. It’s some myth that every time a doctor touches a newborn, they want to have a baby. There are stories of colleagues knocking up wives—because the syndrome affects men and women equally. After a few laughs, Aspen talks about the teenager, barely seventeen with clueless parents.
“What about the baby’s dad?”
“She said it didn’t matter,” Aspen responds to Brynn’s question yawning. “I’m glad the parents are supporting her and keeping the baby.”
“Time for bed, Doc.” I rise from my seat, taking the dirty dishes to the sink. “Leave the them, Brynn. I’ll wash them after we take a nap.”
Heading to Aspen, I grasp her hand, pulling her toward me. “You’ve been awake for more than twenty-four hours.”
“And you?” I grin at her, unable to respond.
I don’t want to tell her that I’ve been waiting for her, explain her how hard it was to fall asleep without having her curves molded to my body and her scent soothing my dreams. Her eyes widen just like her smile. “Hm. You haven’t been to bed either.”
“Maybe. Say goodnight to your friend,” I suggest walking hand in hand with Aspen.
“Careful, Anderson,” Brynn’s warning voice halts me. “You’re being a dreamy boyfriend, and she has baby fever.”
“Good night, Brooklyn.” Aspen chides her. Then, turns toward me. “I don’t want to have your baby. This is a phase that will pass by the time I wake up. Children aren’t in my future.”
The word future sounds like a lifetime sentence in her voice. “Ever?”
She flinches at the bark tone in my voice and shakes her head. “This is a conversation for another day. One where I’ve slept a decent number of hours.”
“Did you plan to have some with Michael?”
Her head snaps, moving violently in my direction. Her face falls and her skin dulls. Those whiskey eyes and her mouth are frozen wide open staring straight at me. My question hit a sensitive subject. I’m aware she avoids talking about him or her past. Personally, I don’t mind listening to whatever she has to say. He’s part of her story. His early departure from this world shaped her personality too. Listening to how they met, their plans for the future, and the brief moments they spent together doesn’t bother me. In fact, I appreciate when she opens that much to me.
“I don’t mean to pry,” I speak, folding her into my arms and kissing the top of her head.
“Thirty-eight years, and this is the first time I care enough about a woman to find out everything about her. Who she is, her secrets, her dreams, and her pain.” I press my lips on her forehead, eating some words I want to say but might sound presumptious. Like how I want to reach inside her soul and erase the bad moments, replacing them with something sweet. Tell her how full of life she is when her mind isn’t gravitating to the past. How I want to keep her with me in the present. “Please forgive me if I asked you the wrong question. I just want to know everything about you.”
“It’s becoming too complicated to talk about him,” she whispers, leaning her head over my chest. “The plan was to have children after my residency, perhaps a couple of years after. Two kids.”
I hug her, protecting her from the sadness. She lifts her head, her eyes finding mine. “Do you want to have a family?”
Yes, with you. Those three words scare me because they’re true. I can picture myself waking up next to Aspen in our bed for the rest of my life; having at least one baby and of course, Hugo. “As the days pass, I’m convinced that I would like to have a family of my own. So yes, when the time is right.” The answer I give her is the closest to the truth.
“You surprise me.” She takes off her bulky shoes and unties her hair, letting the dark waves fall onto her shoulders. “Your mom described you as a loner. When I met you, I couldn’t read you. You barely spoke and I hated those five word answers. Now…it’s hard to explain.”
“Is it bad?” The question isn’t out of insecrurity, but curiosity. Her mind is halfway across the world, the other is thinking hard; planning ways on shutting me out, placing new walls. I can feel them as they appear around her heart, just as I feel when they melt with my touch or my words. “Maybe you should stop expecting the worst out of me.”
“No, it’s not the worst, just …” Her body relaxes as I nuzzle her neck with my lips, her voice is sleepy. “Since the day we met, you have a way of pushing me out of my safe zone without thrusting me to the abyss.”
“The thing is, Aspen, this exchange is mutual. You’re changing my game plan, driving me into a different direction. I’m holding onto you tight, making sure neither one of us falls to a sudden death.” I pull the blankets, take off my shirt and hand it to her. She loves to wear them at night, I love to see her wearing them. At least, that’s what she’s said for the past few days. Later today we’ll make love. For now, it’s time to put the conversation to rest.
I press her close to me, kissing her eyelids, nose and lips. I close my eyes, wishing for more days and night like this one.
Heaven. Paradise. Nirvana. A few ways to describe the place I’m in since Aspen and I became … are we a couple? We certainly act like one. We spend every day together and sleep in the same bed. Yesterday morning was spent in hers, today it was mine. Everything has worked well between us, except she’s not a fan of my room. The lack of blinds or shutters covering the big windows, she hates the bright light casted by the early morning sun. It rouses her, and her fucking morning attitude, out of slumber.
“You need curtains,” Aspen complains walking to the other side of my room, away from the windows. “Did the women you bring home never complain about the view?”
Why complain?
There’s nothing too exciting about my apartment, but I like the simplicity of the place. I pace closer to the window overlooking the street. Everyone is walking, minding their own business. Over the horizon, I spot Mt. St. Helen. It’s so far away, and the sky is so condensed with clouds that I can make out it’s white summit. A woman nearby pushes a stroller. Looking up as she walks, she stops in her tracks as she stares at my bare chest. It had never bother me before that someone would peek into my windows. There’s nothing to see. The walls are bare, the windows are bullet proof, and I’m barely here.
“You’re the first woman I’ve ever brought home, Aspen.” I turn around, pleased to see her in my space.
“Thirty-eight years and you’ve never… I just don’t understand.” She lets her long skirt fall. It covers her lucious ass, and long legs.
“I’ve never had a girlfriend before.”
Her eyes grow wide. Fuck, I said the word. Is she going to run because I gave us a label? What is it about us that drives her into a panic? Things are so easy between us. Yes, we argue about her romantic shows and my bloody movies. About greasy foods instead of healthy shit, it’s hard for her to comprehend why I only let myself eat junk once a week. Sweets and sugar are her downfall. Somedays I feel self-consious. I look nothing like the last dude she dated. I don’t shave
often, my car is a beat-up truck that works for what I need. My clothing are mainly jeans and a t-shirt, a henley if it’s too cold. Tattoos are my passion, and I don’t look like eye candy to take to a fancy party.
“We’re exclusive, aren’t we, Aspen?” We’re establishing something today, I don’t give a fuck if she tries to jump out the window.
She nods twice, her lips twisting.
“Do you want to tell me what is it that you’re afraid of?” I lean closer to her, taking her in my arms. Her arms get ahold of my biceps, grasping them hard. I stare into her eyes, searching for her soul. It’s hiding behind fear. “Everything about you is special. I enjoy our talks, our rants, our silence. The only part I hate about being with you is when you raise those walls.”
“It’s you. You’re intense, larger than life.” She blinks twice, laughing. “It sounds so much better inside my head, and not as stupid.”
“Nothing you say sounds stupid, please, trust me.”
“There’s something burning about you. Every action cuts deep, altering the person on the receiving end.” I stare at her not getting her words. “When you kiss, you really kiss. Your laugh makes every cell of my body vibrate, making it happy. All the emotions I try to avoid intensify when you’re around. It scares the fuck out of me—I feel like I’m going to lose control.”
“So, you’re not ashamed of me?”
Her eyes darken a little, her cheeks rising as she laughs. “Sometimes, when we’re grocery shopping, I want to punch the women checking you out. It’s more like I’m ashamed of myself.”
“Trust me.” I can’t emphasize those words enough. My gut says to be patient, my heart insists I continue working to win her. “Losing control isn’t bad if you’re with the right person. The fire inside you is as intense, Aspen. If only you’d let it burn with mine—we would be unstoppable.”
Her eyes close momentarily. As they open, they have the coldness I hate. Aspen fights what’s happening between us at every waking hour. She opens her mouth, I press mine against it, avoiding her words. Kissing her with the intensity she proclaims I have inside, with the intensity of my own fears. Facing the biggest one I’ve comfronted in the past years. Like her, I am afraid. I distress when her actions theaten to terminate the best thing that has happened to me. What she’s not counting on is that the warrior in me won’t stop until this fight of powers ends the rightful way, with her being unconditionally mine.