Page 33 of Directing You
“Onions, peppers, salt, pepper, mustard seed—”
His eyes shot open. “Mustard?” He repeated and the one word sent him into another coughing fit.
“Y-yeah. Is that okay?” He didn’t answer, instead, coughed into his fist.
“Allergic…” he managed to get out amidst his coughing.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck!” I rushed to grab my phone, ready to call 9-1-1, but he quickly put his palm over top of mine, shaking his head.
“Epi pen…” he pointed toward his bag. “Briefcase.”
I ran to Reid’s briefcase and in the front pouch found two epi pens. Grabbing them both, I rushed back over to where he had sat down on my couch with his pants down and boxer briefs pulled up high on this thigh.
He took one of the epi pens from me, not coughing as much as before, but I noticed his breath was heavy and wheezing. He took the cap off the end and, clenching the pen in his fist, looked at me quickly. “Look away if you’re squeamish,” he managed to say and paused just a moment to give me the opportunity to avert my eyes. Instead, I sat down beside him and put my hand on his shoulder.
“Are you seriously worrying aboutmeright now?!”
Through his wheezing breath, he chuckled and pushed the orange side of the epi pen against his thigh with a wince and held it there for about ten seconds.
His breath slowed, deepening and after a couple moments, he took my free hand, squeezing it. “It’s working,” he said. “I can feel it working.”
“Oh my God, I am so sorry. I didn’t even think to ask about food allergies!”
He chuckled quietly, “It’s not your fault. Mustard isn’t a common allergy. I should have been more proactive. I always forget because usually it’s a condiment that I can easily steer clear of.”
I dropped my head into my hands, desperately trying to ignore the wave of hot tears brimming against my eyes. “You almost died. I almostkilledyou!”
“Hey, hey,” he curled his arms around me and pulled me into him for a hug. “You didn’t. I always have two epi pens on me for this reason. I’m fine.”
Tears fell down my face and I hiccupped, burying my face in his shirt. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hazel, look at me.” He pulled me off of him and cupped my face, bringing my eyes to meet his. “I’m okay. I’m breathing. I’m going to be fine. And you did nothing wrong.”
“What if you didn’t have the epi pen on you? Your apartment is all the way uptown and this stay at my apartment was a surprise for you…”
He brushed his thumb below my eyes swiping clean the tears. “Ialwayshave them with me. Always. You don’t have to worry.”
I sniffed and stood up, stomping over to my fridge and spice cabinet. My knees were shaking, but I’d be damned if I let Reid see that. Yanking my fridge open, I grabbed the two kinds of mustard I had in there and tossed them in the garbage as well as the ground mustard seed spice I used in dinner.
Reid stood and crossed slowly to me. “You don’t have to get rid of them, Hazel. I can be in the room with mustard, I just can’t eat it.” He chuckled as he spoke.
“How can you be so blasé about this?” I shrieked. “I am throwing away any trace of mustard in this house. As God as my witness, I will not be responsible for fucking killing a genius, Tony-Award winning Broadway director! And I don’t want to take any chances. Not tonight or any night after this—” The words cut off in my throat as I realized what I was saying.
Reid leaned casually against the counter, watching me, a cocky smirk on his face. “Any other night after this, huh? Does that mean you don’t want this to end with tonight?”
My eyes drifted closed and I silently took a deep breath in through my nose.Of course I don’t want this to end tonight. “I…” Words strangled at the back of my throat. Why couldn’t I say it? Why couldn’t I tell him that I didn’t want this to end? Deep down, I was falling for Reid and that was more terrifying than any audition I’d been to in the last decade of my life. “I…I think I’ll still owe you a home cooked dinner since tonight is a bust.”
His smile remained in place, but something shifted in his demeanor. Like a shield going up. Or rather… a wall. The same wall he’d claimed I was tearing down brick by brick. “So I get at least one more date night with you after this weekend? I’ll take it. I’ll take whatever Hazel Moon is willing to give me.” He licked his lips and cleared his throat—and that simple noise now had my adrenaline spiking into overdrive.
“We should go to the hospital still,” I said. “Make sure everything is okay.”
“I’ll be okay,” he said. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ll pop a Benadryl—”
“Reid Bradley, we are going to the damn hospital!”
He jumped a little at my sudden shout—and if I was being honest, I surprised myself with that, too. Putting his hands up, he said, “How about, I do a quick teleconference with my doctor. If he suggests we go to the ER, we will. But if he thinks I’m okay, we’ll stay here and have a nice, quiet dinner.” He slid his still full wine glass into the sink. “I will probably have to forego the wine tonight, thought.”
I nodded. “Okay.” If his doctor said it was okay to skip the ER, that was good enough for me.
