“Thank you,” she says quietly, giving me a small smile before turning her attention to the TV.
I can’t help noticing that she doesn’t pull her hand away from me. Seeing it as an opportunity, I lace my fingers with hers and squeeze gently.
I can feel her looking at me out of the corner of her eye, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from grinning like an idiot.
I sit there and watch some cooking show with her until she starts yawning. She lets go of my hand to stretch her arms over her head.
“Why don’t you get some sleep? I’m going to hit the sack, too,” I tell her as I stand up.
I rub my chest and stomach with one hand while she spreads out on the couch and covers herself up with a small blanket.
“Are you comfortable out here?” I ask.
She nods and before I have a chance to offer her my bed, she tells me goodnight. I lie awake until I hear her turn the TV off, then I finally let myself drift off to sleep.
I’m dreaming about Nat, and it’s a really good dream, until I jolt awake with stomach pain that causes me to break out in sweat. It doesn’t take me long to realize I’m not the one with the stomachache; it’s her. I can tell because I’ve let myself feel what she feels more than I’ve done with anyone else.
I throw the blankets off and make my way to the couch. She’s not there. It only takes me a second to find her in the kitchen. She’s leaning over the trashcan while clenching her stomach.
“Are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep the pain out of my voice.
“I’m sick,” she says, shaking her head.
I want to tell her I’ll be right back, but she starts puking and I’m unable to speak. I get to my room as quickly as possible and take one of my pills. I swallow it without taking a drink and it sticks in my throat uncomfortably for a moment. I know I don’t have time to get a glass of water and rush back to Nat.
She’s lying on the kitchen floor now, trembling. I pick her up as gently as possible, trying my damnedest not to upset her stomach even more, and lay her down in my bed. I make quick work of changing out the trash and getting her a glass of water and a wet rag. I place the trashcan beside the bed within arm’s reach for her then put the damp rag on her forehead in hopes of cooling her off a little.
“Do you want to take anything for the fever?” I ask her even though I’m pretty certain she wouldn’t be able to keep it down.
She shakes her head.
“Do you need anything else?”
Again, she shakes her head. I contemplate the idea of going to sleep on the couch but think better of it and make myself comfortable beside her.
Nat throws up three more times in the middle of the night. By morning she is finally drinking some water and the color is slowly returning to her face.
“Well, this has been the longest night of my life,” she tells me while covering her mouth with one hand.
“Are you about to get sick again?” I ask, frantically reaching for the trashcan.
“No, no, I’m fine,” she says, pushing the trashcan away. “I just really need to brush my teeth.”
I laugh out loud when she says that. “You’re right, Nat. How dare you have bad breath after puking for the last twelve hours?” I tease.
“Oh my God, you can smell it?”
She is up and moving before I can stop her, and I hear her slam the bathroom door shut seconds later.
Nat
Macie’s been in her room since Shiloh left over an hour ago. She’s not crying, but she doesn’t want to come out right now. Shiloh offered to call Mandy, but I assured him I could handle it.
“Macie? Do you want to come out for a snack? We could go watch a movie or something if you’re feeling up to it,” I say through her closed door.
She opens her door slowly and I know what she’s going to say before she says it. Her skin is pale, there are dark circles under her eyes, and she’s trembling.
“I don’t feel very good,” she mutters.
“Why don’t you go lie down? I’ll get you some medicine.”
She pukes all over my bare feet and the floor before she’s able to answer me. By some miracle I’m able to ignore the feeling of vomit squishing between my toes as I pick her up and carry her to her bed. I get a wet rag for her head and a dry one for her mouth. I cover her up and give her some medicine for her fever before tending to the mess in the hall.
I’m in the shower when I hear the phone ringing; I know it’s Shiloh, but I let it go to voicemail anyway. I deserve a solid twenty minutes in the shower after cleaning up that amount of puke. I’m still convincing myself that I have a good reason for ignoring Shiloh’s call when the phone rings again. I roll my eyes and start rinsing the conditioner out of my hair as quickly as possible. The phone stops ringing as I wrap my towel around me without drying my hair.
I run to the bedroom and grab the phone just as it starts ringing for the third time.
“Hello,” I answer, sounding irritated and out of breath.
“What took you so long?” Shiloh asks.
“I was in the shower. Macie got sick all over my feet and the floor so I put her to bed, cleaned up the mess, and wanted to take a relaxing shower. But, you obviously need something, so I got out and hurried to answer the phone. Now, what is it that you need?”
“Uh, nothing. I was just calling to talk. I guess now is a bad time, though,” he says quietly.
I flop down onto his bed and let out a sigh. “Now is fine; I was done in there anyway. What’s up?” I try sounding cheery to make up for the attitude I just gave him.
“Nothing, I just got settled in. How is Mace?”
“She’s sleeping now. I’ll probably stay up most of the night to look after her.”
“You’re so great,” he tells me.
“Thanks.” I laugh.
“Really, you are. Macie loves you and you take care of her like she’s your own little sister. We’re both really lucky to have found you.”
“Thanks, Shiloh,” I say quietly.
We talk for a few more minutes before Macie wakes up. I sleep in her room and hold her hair every time she gets sick. I let her stay home from school the next day and we take turns doing each other’s hair and makeup.
Macie’s feeling much better by Tuesday morning and we start back on our daily routines. She goes to school while I work then does her homework at Aunt J’s while I finish my shift, we go home for dinner, and I read to her until she falls asleep.
As I’m clocking out on Friday, Marty calls me into his office.
“I know your life isn’t any of my business, Nat, but I’ve gotten a couple calls this week from a man asking to speak to you. The calls came in after your shifts were over, and when I told him you weren’t available he seemed to get a little hostile. Do you know who it might be?” he asks with a confused look on his face.
“I have no clue. I don’t know anybody that would be trying to contact me at work, especially not a man.”
He stares at me for a moment, as if he’s trying to decide whether or not he believes me.
“Okay, well if anything weird is happening in your life, you know you can come to me, right?”
“Thank you for that. I will let you know if I figure out where the calls are coming from.”
He smiles a small, tentative smile before nodding and waving me out the door. I plan on calling Shiloh to ask him if he thought it could be Declan or Rick calling for me at work, but he is waiting for us outside the apartment complex when we walk up—well, I walk; Macie runs while screaming like a banshee. Shiloh lets out a loud laugh as he watches her run to him, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
When he looks at me, I draw my eyebrows together, silently asking him what’s wrong. He looks away without giving me anything.
I make fish sticks for dinner while Macie and Shiloh watch a movie. Macie is ecstatic to have her brother home a week early, but I can tell something is weighing on Shiloh.
He
talks Macie into going to bed early by promising to take her somewhere fun tomorrow.
“What are you planning for tomorrow?” I ask him as he sits beside me on the couch.
He shrugs as he leans his head back and closes his eyes.
“Want to tell me what’s going on with you?” I ask him.
He holds his hand out to me and waits for me to take it. When I do, his body visibly relaxes and he lets out a long breath.
“I miss you and Macie,” he mutters, keeping his eyes closed.
“We miss you, too, Shiloh.”
“Even you?”
“Even me,” I tell him honestly.
He squeezes my hand for a second but doesn’t say anything else for a while.
“Have you been trying to call me at work?” I finally ask him.
He shakes his head.
“Well, Marty says some guy has called asking for me twice this week. He gets upset when Marty tells him I’m not there. I didn’t think it would be you, but I don’t know who else would be calling me there.”
He opens his eyes and sits up straighter. He squints his eyes as he looks as his feet. After at least five minutes go by, he speaks.
“Nat, I think I need to tell you about my job. I don’t want to, and you can’t tell a soul, but I think you need to know the truth.”
“Okay,” I say, wide-eyed.
He releases my hand and turns on the couch so he is facing me. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. He opens his mouth like he’s going to start talking, then laughs nervously.
“Shi, it’s not a big deal. You don’t have to tell me, I trust you.”
He raises his eyebrows, shocked by what I’ve said. Then, without warning, he grabs my face and pulls me toward him. We’re kissing—well, he’s kissing me; I’m sitting, stunned and clueless. I’ve never kissed a guy before him.
When he pulls back and looks into my eyes, I can feel my cheeks turning a deep shade of red. He grins before kissing each of my cheeks.
“Okay, I think this would be easier to show you. Go into my room and take your phone with you,” he says.
I give him a look that clearly shows my confusion but do as he says and head to his room. My phone buzzes in my hand as I push his bedroom door closed behind me.
“Why are you calling me while you’re sitting in the other room?” I answer it with a laugh.
“You’ll see. Lock the door, please.”
“What’s this about, Shi? What does this have to do with your job?” I question as I click the lock into place.
“Go sit on the bed and tell me when you’re ready,” he says seriously.
“Uh, I guess I’m ready,” I mumble.
I hear him take a deep breath and let it out into the phone.
“All right, pinch yourself. Don’t tell me where.”
“What? Is this supposed to be a joke? I’m starting to think you’re some sort of weirdo,” I tell him, irritated that I don’t know what he’s getting at.
“Nat, shut up and do it,” he demands.
I roll my eyes and gently pinch myself on the leg.
“Right thigh,” Shiloh says through the phone.
“What?”
“You pinched your right thigh,” he explains.
“Good guess. How about now?”
“Right thigh again. Take it easy, that one kind of hurt.”
I let out a small chuckle, thinking he’s a better guesser than I expected, and pinch myself again.
“Right arm.”
And again.
“Left arm.”
And again.
“You’re pinching your earlobe, really?”
I hang up the phone and stomp back into the living area.
“How are you doing that?”
“Nat, just sit down and I’ll finish explaining,” he says, patting the couch cushion next to him.
“No, I don’t want to sit. I want to know how you know where I’m pinching myself,” I say as I cross my arms over my chest.
“I can feel it.” He shrugs.
“What? You can feel what?”
“I can feel it when you pinch yourself. It feels just like you’re pinching me.”
“Liar,” I say simply before walking out of his apartment and into my own, slamming the door behind me.
I pace the length of my hallway at least ten times before groaning in frustration and going back to Shiloh’s apartment. He’s still sitting on the couch when I walk through the door without knocking.
“You’re serious about this?” I ask in a rush.
He nods slowly, trying to gauge my reaction.
“I need more details, Shi. I mean, how can you feel it when I touch myself? What else can you do? Do you know what I’m thinking? Oh God, you’ve been able to read my mind this whole time haven’t you?” I put my hands over my face in an attempt to hide my embarrassment.
“Nat, sit down. I’ve never read your mind and couldn’t even if I wanted to. Come here and let me explain.”
I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves as I sit down beside him.
“I guess I should start by telling you that this runs in my family. My dad and his dad were just like me. The short version is, I can feel other people’s pain. Whether I want to or not, I still feel it. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten better at it. Now I’m able to take pain away for some people and I’ve even transferred it from one person to another a few times. Are we on the same page?”
“So, what is your job exactly? Making people feel less pain?” I ask.
“Not exactly. I’m a Protector, Nat. I look after people that are vulnerable and I help people that aren’t able to protect themselves. Does that make sense?”
“Is that why you stayed at the park with me?” I ask quietly.
“That’s why I stayed the first night. I kept coming back just to be with you,” he says, grabbing my hand.
“How do you get paid?”
“I don’t.” He shrugs. “My family has been doing this for so long I’m not even sure where the money came from, but my dad left us enough to live comfortably until we’re old and senile.”
“This is a lot to take in,” I tell him.
“I know. Thank you for trying to understand and for coming back over so I could explain.”
“Yeah, sorry about my original reaction. I just needed a minute.”
“So, the first guy you kiss turns out to be genetically enhanced; what are the odds?” He laughs.
“How did you know you were my first kiss? You said you couldn’t read minds,” I say, smacking the back of my hand against his chest.
“I can’t read minds,” he says, still laughing. “I just assumed I was your first kiss by the shocked look on your face.”
“Well, you assumed correctly,” I say, wrapping my arms around myself.
“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. I’m glad you’ve never kissed anyone else,” he says, sounding sincere. I sigh and look away from him. He leans in slowly, using his index finger to turn my face toward his before softly pressing his lips against mine.
“I mean it,” he whispers after breaking the kiss. And just like that, I feel content and can’t wait to kiss him again.
***
I wake up to the sound of my phone vibrating across the kitchen counter. It takes me a minute to realize I must’ve fallen asleep on Shiloh’s couch. I had intended on going back to my own apartment, but we stayed up late talking…and kissing. Okay, mostly kissing. He’s a really great kisser.
My phone is no longer ringing by the time I get to it. I look through my missed calls list and see that it was from Marty, so I call him back.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Nat. Sorry I missed your call. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you could come in for a couple hours this morning. I’m behind on paperwork and won’t be able to catch up if I’m working the counter. What do you say?”
“Sure, I can come in. I’ll be there soon,” I tell him while simultaneou
sly scribbling a note for Shiloh.
I go across the hall to my place to shower and get dressed and then hurry to Aunt J’s. Marty has stacks of paper surrounding the register and he’s trying to sign forms while taking a customer’s order.
I force myself not to laugh as I gently tap his shoulder and point toward his office, silently telling him to get his ass in there and let me take care of the customers. The morning rush ends around half past nine and I finally have time to sit down and have my own coffee. I check my phone and see that Shiloh still hasn’t called me; I assume he’s still sleeping and slip the phone into my back pocket.
I’m taking the last drink of my coffee when the bell above the door chimes, letting me know a new customer has arrived. I start making my way behind the counter. After tossing my cup into the trash, I look up to greet the guy who has just walked in.
“What can I get for you?” I ask with a polite smile.
He runs his hand through his hair as he looks at the menu posted on the wall behind me. He looks a few years older than me, but that could just be because of the suit he’s wearing. His face looks young; he can’t be over twenty-one.
“I’ll take a small black coffee,” he says with a shrug. I raise my eyebrows at his simple choice before turning around to make his drink.
I hand him his coffee and he hands me his credit card, then I watch him sign his receipt: Bennett James.
He takes a sip of his coffee without walking to a table. I see him eyeing me over his cup as I put the receipt into the drawer of the register.
“Can I get you anything else?” I ask.
“Are you Nat?” he asks with squinted eyes.
“Yes, I’m Nat,” I answer after a slight hesitation.
“Do you have time to talk? I’ll make it quick, I swear.”
I look at the clock and realize I’ve been at work for almost four hours, and it’s supposed to be my day off. I hold up my finger, letting him know I’ll be back in just a minute.
“Hey, Marty, I think I’m going to get out of here if that’s okay. Everything is caught up, and I refilled the main pot for the lunch customers. Need anything else?” I ask him, barely poking my head into his office.
“No, get out of here. Thanks again for the help. I appreciate it,” he says with a toothy grin. I wave at him before hanging my apron up and walking back up front.
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