Page 15 of The Trauma Response
I’m about to apologize for embarrassing Whits when my phone buzzes. I check it and discover I’m missing a group chat. There are several back and forth messages among my friends, but once I hop on, Thor immediately notices. Figures. The bodyguard is always on alert.
Thor: Hey, Hotshot, Gunner wants to come by the station soon. Can we swing by on your next shift?
“Hotshot?” Whits glances over my shoulder like the nosey little ray of light she’s always been. Her eyes drift to the chat name. “Baddie Bikers? Sounds like a soft biker gang.” She chuckles and nudges me with her shoulder. It feels like no time has passed between us, but at the same time I can’t help thinking I know nothing about this beautiful woman anymore.
“Thor gives everyone nicknames. I’m a firefighter, hence Hotshot. The chat name was Chantelle’s idea, and honestly no one wanted to fight with a five foot nothing sassy britches.”
“I heard that.” Chantelle glances over her shoulder and gives me a menacing glare I can’t begin to take seriously.
I fire off a message letting Thor know when I’ll be back at work, and chat up Holt, Christian, and Des for a minute before cramming my phone back in my pocket to give Whits my undivided attention. “So, while Chantelle is finishing up, why don’t you browse?”
I snatch a shopping basket from one of the stacks at the end of an aisle and dutifully follow her around the shop while working through the knot in my stomach. It started as a seed of anxiety but has managed to grow into a raging ball of…something.All I know is that I have no desire to let her—or her incredibly annoying brother—slip out of my life again. That old candle I carried for her seems to be working hard to reignite, but I still carry the same worries I had back then. She’s intelligent, beautiful, driven, and probably still sees me as her little brother’s best friend. Still, I can’t help wondering what I can do to change that even when every part of me screams it’s a bad idea. I’ll lose her again, and this time it mightactuallybreak my heart.
Whits has all of two books in the basket when Chantelle finishes up and joins us. While my childhood crush looksthrough a stash of sweet romance books, I lean against one of the shelves and try to focus on myotherfriend for a few minutes.
“All done. That was crazy,” Chantelle admits.
“I’m so happy for you. You’ve worked hard and your fans love you.” I reach for her and give her a side hug. I knuckle-rub her head, proving she is the shortest person I know. She shoves me a little but smiles and runs her hand through her hair.
“Thanks, Cai, I appreciate it but I’m more interested in digging into your personal life at the moment.”
“Uh, hard pass.” I glance up to make sure Whits can’t hear us.
“Aw, come on. She seems sweet. I like her already.”
“It’s hard not to like her. You should see her when she’s really happy. She lights up a room.” I can’t contain my smile, and Chantelle giggles.
“You’re smitten. I’ve never seen you so into a woman before.” She quiets when Whits approaches with one more book and a big smile.
“Any chance you’d be willing to sign one more?” Whits brushes her reddish hair behind her shoulder and her cheeks flush again.
“Psht, obviously. Any friend of Cai’s is a friend of mine.” Chantelle swirls her marker over the page and I still can’t believe one of my closest friends is an author. She hands it back with a goofy grin and Whits drops it into her basket.
“Thank you so much. Cai didn’t tell me until we got here that he’s friends with a famous author. But then again, it’s not like we’ve had a ton of time to catch up either. I mean, we chatted a little on the way but…Okay, I’m just rambling now. Sorry.”
My petite friend giggles again and shakes her head. “I’m just a regular person. No need to be so shy. Hey, did you see the latest release by…” And that’s when I losebothwomen to a conversation I have no part in. I have no idea who they’re discussing or what a genre trend is, but they seem to be bondingso I leave them to it. Chantelle talks Whits into one more book before she turns to me and presents her basket.
“Um, that’s a paltry looking stack right there. I’m pretty sure I said to fill the basket,” I say.
Whits narrows her eyes. “Oh, Cai, stop messing around. This is more than enough.”
“Mmm…nope.”
“Cai, you can’t—”
“All right, if you won’t choose more on your own, I’ll have to bring in the big guns. Chantelle, do your thing.” My exuberant friend wastes no time. She seems to know the store like the back of her hand and traverses the aisles with such precision, it’s actually impressive. I didn’t know a person could memorize every single book in a single store, but she’s got Whits following behind her, eyes wide with wonder. By the time they’ve finished the fiction section, the basket is full and Whits can no longer carry it.
I slip in beside her and ease it onto my arm again. “There now, that’s more like it.”
“This is going to last me for years. Cai, you don’t have to do this. It’s too expensive.” She shakes her head vehemently, but I’m not having it. I’ve never gotten to spoil a woman before, and I’m beginning to enjoy how it feels. That’s notentirelytrue. I did spoil Whits every birthday and Christmas, just like I promised to this time, but it’s been ten years. Tenlongyears, and I can’t understand why I ever lost track of her. Having her in my life right now feels too good to be true.
“It isn’t. I’m a bachelor living alone and my schedule doesn’t let me do much but go riding from time to time. I have money, and I want to splurge on you.”
“Cai, I don’t know.” She lowers her gaze so I duck my head to get her attention.
“I want to do it, Whits. Will you let me?”
She groans, but caves. “Oh, all right.”
