by A. T Brennan
* * *
By two in the afternoon she felt dead on her feet. She’d managed to choke down a bagel when she’d gotten to work and she’d had at least four cups of coffee, but she was still exhausted.
She hadn’t slept well. She’d dreamed about the robbery. She kept seeing the gun in her face and the man shooting the clerk and at Tyler and the old man, and she’d wake up with a scream on her lips and her heart racing. She couldn’t remember how many times the same dream had woken her, but it had been hard falling back asleep after every wake up.
She looked as tired as she felt, and it was noticeable since she never wore makeup. She didn’t really know how to apply it properly and the only makeup she had at home was at least three years old so she hadn’t bothered trying to cover up the circles under her eyes, or the bruise on her cheekbone.
She’d been lucky that while the bruise had swollen considerably and it was very dark against her pale skin, it had stayed on her cheekbone and her eye hadn’t bruised at all. It was very obvious, and when the other nurses had asked her about it she’d just told them she’d opened a door on herself.
It wasn’t a good lie, but no one pushed it and no one questioned her. She’d gone to one of the doctors on the floor and explained how she’d come into contact with someone else’s blood and needed to be tested. He’d asked which patient it was since it was easier to test the patient because they already had their bloodwork on file, but she’d just said she’d helped someone outside of work and the doctor had ordered the tests for her.
She’d managed to sneak away to have her blood drawn for the tests and had rushed back to her floor, and even as she leaned against the counter of the nurse’s station she felt a little faint.
“Kenzie?” Melissa asked as she looked up from the monitors. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, just feeling a little off.” She shook her head and stood up.
“Why don’t you take a few minutes and watch the monitors? I can take your rooms for a bit,” she said kindly as she started to stand.
“I don’t want to put you out—”
“It’s fine. Take half an hour. Just get some water and food into yourself and rest. You’ve done enough for me in the past, half an hour is nothing.” She smiled and nodded to her vacated seat.
“Thanks.” Kenzie smiled gratefully and moved to sit in the chair.
Melissa was a single mother to a five-year-old boy, and Kenzie had split plenty of shifts with her and taken on extra hours to help her when she needed time off for her son. She never asked for anything in return, and it was nice to know her help had been appreciated.
She still wasn’t very hungry, but she knew Melissa was right. She needed to get some food into her system, and she needed to drink more than just coffee. They were holding Kari’s party at six so she had a few hours before she would have to go and get the bassinet out of her car.
She hadn’t brought any food with her and she didn’t have time to go to the cafeteria, so she just went into the small backroom and grabbed a couple of packets of cookies and poured herself a big cup of water from the communal water cooler. It would have to do until she could get her hands on some real food.
* * *
By the time the party was over Kenzie was feeling emotionally and physically drained. She’d stayed about half an hour after her shift to socialize, but had felt like an intruder the entire time she’d been there. Only two other nurses didn’t have children, but they were both married. The women had all talked about their kids and their partners and she’d just kind of stood there. She’d only been in one long term relationship in her life, and she never talked about it. She was a loner and had never really been around kids before. She was an only child and she’d had almost no contact with her extended family outside of her grandparents, plus she’d had very few friends in her adult years so she had nothing to contribute to the conversations. She’d just kind of stood in the background, eaten some of the food that was brought in, and had taken off when the others started leaving.
She was used to being a wallflower, and she was used to being in the background. She preferred it that way and it had never bothered her, but for some reason that party had really made her feel isolated and sorry for herself.
If she’d died in that robbery, if she’d been shot then no one would have known until she didn’t show up for work. She had no next of kin on file or an emergency contact. If the police had looked at her phone they would have seen that her contact list consisted of businesses she called often, some co-workers, and the hospital switchboard. Even if the police had called one of her co-workers there was nothing they could do for her.
She lived alone, she had no family, she had no real friends, and she wasn’t part of any clubs or groups. She didn’t really like social media and had given up on internet dating, so even her online life was minimal. She didn’t even have life insurance because she had no one to leave it to.
If she’d died there was no one to plan her funeral, no one who would take her remains and bury them. She had no one, and while that usually didn’t even make her pause, today it was crushing her.
She was truly alone, and there was no one who would really care if she lived or died. Her co-workers would be sad and she was sure she’d be missed, but in a few months or years she’d be a memory and she wouldn’t have mattered.
She had no legacy and her life was truly empty.
As she drove home she fought to stop herself from giving in to the utter sorrow and emptiness she felt and not give in to the tears that kept prickling in her eyes. Her life wasn’t any different today than it had been yesterday. She just had to get over herself and realize that this was how it was, and how it would always be.
When she got home she went straight to the bathroom to shower and then went to her room to change.
It wasn’t until she was looking at her chest of drawers that she paused. Normally she didn’t care what she wore and didn’t put any effort into her clothes. She hadn’t been out socially in months and she hadn’t been on a date in even longer.
She knew she was being ridiculous as she looked through her clothes. She wasn’t going on a date, she was going to make sure her stitches were holding up and Tyler’s arm wasn’t getting infected. She was going to help out a man who had been hurt. Just because she’d been thinking about him all day didn’t mean he’d spared her a second thought.
She just shook her head and pulled out a pair of skinny jeans and a light blue shirt that was comfortable and not too tight on her. It didn’t matter what size she bought, her jeans always had the dreaded muffin top, and she felt self-conscious when her shirts were too tight and showed it off.
She wove her hair into a long braid and then sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. That was about as good as it was going to get.
* * *
Tyler slammed the door to his apartment closed as he trudged inside. The noise and the slight shaking he felt in the floor made him feel better, and he went to the fridge and pulled out a beer.
He’d just come off a ten hour shift and he was tired. He’d had trouble sleeping the night before, and when he’d dragged his ass out of bed he’d felt as if he hadn’t slept at all. After Kenzie had left he’d fallen asleep right away, but he’d woken up almost half an hour later in a cold sweat. He hadn’t been dreaming about the robbery, he’d been dreaming about his second tour, the day he’d been sent home wounded for the second time.
He’d managed to get back to sleep, but forty minutes later he’d woken up again. This time it was his first tour he saw in his dreams, two weeks in when they’d lost the first man in their unit, who’d also been his best friend.
It had been the start of a vicious cycle that had plagued him until he’d woken up at seven to get ready for work. Every forty minutes a new memory would be his nightmare, and no matter what he did he couldn’t stop the memories from staying even after he was awake.
His job wasn’t hard, he worked as a security guard in
new developments. Basically he walked around buildings as they were being built and made sure nothing was amiss. At least that’s what he did now. He’d been at the job for four months and he was starting to feel the familiar itch that told him it was time to move on.
He didn’t dislike the job but he didn’t like it either. It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but it was really all he could do. He didn’t want to add it to the ever increasing list of failed jobs on his resume, but he knew it was only a matter of time before he was let go. He showed up on time, he did what he was supposed to, but he was constantly being called out on his attitude and he didn’t bother trying to get along with his co-workers.
It was a job. It was a way to pass the days and bring in a paycheck as his veteran’s benefits only went so far. It was a way to be a productive member of society and do something, but it wasn’t what he wanted.
He sighed as he rotated his shoulder. It was sore, the actual wound had been burning and aching all day. He was having a hard time lifting his arm and he was struggling to hold or grip anything for too long. He was tired from not sleeping and he was in an altogether bad mood, but for some reason he’d actually looked forward to coming home.
He didn’t have a car, not because he didn’t drive or couldn’t afford one, but because he couldn’t be bothered with one, so he either walked or took the bus everywhere. Normally he spent the commute reading or staring out the window trying to think of something to do to occupy his time until he went to sleep, but today he’d been thinking about Kenzie.
She was unlike any woman he’d ever known. He’d met plenty of women while he’d been in the marines and had never lacked for dates or friends before his injury. Even now he never lacked for dates, until they saw his leg.
She was different. She wasn’t exactly pretty but she wasn’t unattractive. It was as though she had the potential to be a very beautiful woman but she didn’t put any effort into her looks. It was true she was on the bigger side, she was tall and a little broad so that didn’t help, but when she’d been treating the clerk in the store her t-shirt had been skin tight and he’d been able to see every curve of her upper body. Her breasts were large, and while she was a little plump she wasn’t really overweight, just soft.
She had a true hourglass figure, and he wondered what her legs would look like under her loose scrubs. Her height meant they would be long, but he wondered how shapely they’d be. If she was a nurse then she spent her days on her feet, so he imagined they would be strong and firm.
It was strange that he was thinking about her body so much. She wasn’t the type of woman who would have made his head turn if he saw her in a bar, but when he’d seen her in the store something about her had caught his attention. He’d always gone after alpha girls. He was drawn to confident and beautiful women, and he never had trouble getting them. Kenzie was neither confident nor classically beautiful, but she’d caught his attention.
When she’d been standing in line at the store he’d looked at her, but hadn’t really seen her. It wasn’t until she’d stood up for the elderly man that he’d really looked at her, and it was her passion and her compassion that had made him pause. It had lit her up and made her plain face pretty, her brown eyes had sparkled, and her skin had taken on a rosy glow, and for a moment he’d been taken aback by the change.
When he’d watched her face an armed man and keep her calm as a gun had been waved in her face he’d realized there was something more to her. She’d taken quite a hit to the face but hadn’t let it slow her down. He’d watched her take control of the situation, treat the clerk and get everyone busy and doing something until help arrived, and he’d seen her confidence and her capability. When she’d helped him afterward, driven him home and stitched him up and then helped him get into bed he’d seen that she had a good heart.
He could still almost feel her hand on his leg and see the kindness and honesty in her eyes as she’d talked to him about his scar. She’d been telling him the truth, and while he’d been toying with her, teasing her because he’d known he could, he’d been shocked when she hadn’t recoiled at the sight of his leg.
He’d been waiting for her to look away, to make a big show about pretending not to notice it, and he’d been waiting for her pity or her disgust. He’d assumed she was just like every other woman, and he’d been waiting for her to validate his anger and his belief that all women were shallow and now that he wasn’t whole no one would be able to accept him, but she’d been different.
No one outside of doctors, nurses and physiotherapists had ever touched his leg, and when she’d put her hand on his scar he’d known she wasn’t touching him as a nurse. She’d touched him as a woman. The pulse he’d felt under her hand had shocked him, and even through the whiskey-induced haze he’d been in the middle of, his body had tightened as that pulse had moved up his leg and straight into his spine.
He knew he was handsome. He knew he was a good-looking man and he worked hard at keeping himself in shape. He worked out, ate well, and while he did drink a lot he did what he could to counter the booze with exercise. He didn’t sleep well, but he’d always been able to function with very little sleep so it didn’t really affect him. He enjoyed using his looks to tease women. He liked the attention and he loved it when a beautiful woman wanted him because it made him feel that he mattered.
He’d never been a relationship man. He’d had girlfriends but nothing really long term, and he’d tended to bounce from girl to girl. When he’d been younger he’d been looking for Ms. Right, but he’d had no problem settling for Ms. Right Now. At this point in his life he was just looking for someone who could look past his leg. He had a lot of dates, had a lot of sex, but didn’t have a lot of repeats, and he was pretty sure a lot of the sex was pity sex.
He was a wounded veteran. It was their patriotic duty to fuck him. Then they had a story to tell their girlfriends, and when they were done patting themselves on the back for being so giving they’d forget about him. He was a story to tell, not a man to remember.
He hadn’t wanted to sleep with Kenzie, hadn’t even wanted to mess around with her. He’d just wanted to tease her and see the appreciation in her eyes as she looked at him. He’d wanted to feel wanted, even if it was by someone he had no interest in.
Then she’d touched his leg, had said those kind things to him, and it was as if his perception of her had changed. He’d stopped looking at her as though she was the same as every other woman and had seen her for herself. He’d looked past the fact that she seemed to want to blend in, past the shyness and the way she seemed to hold back a part of herself, and he’d seen a woman with layers. A woman who was both compassionate and brave, and he was intrigued by her.
He might not have noticed her beauty right away, but now that he’d really seen her he knew she wasn’t just beautiful on the outside. She had a beautiful heart as well.
He just shook his head and took a long drink of his beer, knocking himself out of his reverie as he went over to the bins in the corner of the room and rooted through them. He barely knew her, had only spent a few moments with her, and he’d been thinking about her all day. She might have said those nice things to him, and she might have liked what she saw when he’d been nearly naked, but in her eyes he was probably just another patient who needed her help and she hadn’t spared him a second thought as a man.
He sighed and kept looking in one of the bins in front of him. He didn’t have a closet so it was the easiest way to keep his clothes. After almost twelve years in the military he’d learned to live out of a bag, and had learned how to live simply.
He pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a black t-shirt and hung his uniform up on the shower curtain rod before going back to the kitchen. He hadn’t eaten properly the day before and he was hungry.
He pulled together a decent dinner and ate quickly. He was just cracking open a second beer when there was a knock on his door.
“It’s open,” he called out and a moment later he heard the door op
en and footsteps coming down the stairs.
When Kenzie came into the apartment she paused in the doorway when she saw Tyler. If he’d looked good the day before he was gorgeous today. He looked a little tired and unrested, but between the fitted jeans and the skin tight shirt she could see every muscle in his body.
He was by far the most handsome man she’d been around in a long time, and she was suddenly very aware of how frumpy and ugly she must be to him.
A guy like him would have the prettiest women after him. He could have his pick of beautiful women, and here she was drooling over him, picturing him in nothing but his boxer briefs and wondering how it would feel to have his body pressed up against hers. She was making a fool out of herself and he wasn’t even thinking about her as anything other than the woman who was taking care of his arm.
“Hey,” he greeted, breaking the spell. They’d been standing and staring at each other for almost half a minute.
“Hi.” She shook her head and gave him a small smile. “How’s the arm?”
“Been better. Beer?” he asked as he nodded to the bottle in his hand.
She was about to decline. She had nothing against drinking, she actually enjoyed having a few drinks after work, but her first instinct had been to say no because she’d assumed he was just being polite and didn’t want to be rude.
He probably didn’t want her to stay any longer than it would take for her to check his arm so he was just offering her a drink because it was the polite thing to do. She opened her mouth to say no, but at the last second she changed her mind.
“Thank you,” she accepted as she put her purse down on the table.
He reached into the fridge and pulled out a beer, opening it before he handed it to her. He glanced at the table and then over at the couch. With a slight nod he turned to head over to the couch, and she followed him after a shocked pause. He sat at one end and she sat at the other. There was only a cushion between them, and while he seemed completely comfortable and at ease she couldn’t help feeling as though she was intruding.