Page 38 of Call Out
“It takes a special person to save people in trouble. Nonna would definitely approve of a medic. You’re an everyday hero, Danny.”
His breathing regulates while his pulse continues to race. “I’m not special—far from it. It’s all in the training.”
Gah! He’s hunky, honorableandhumble. Dawn streams into the room from under the curtains, gifting patterned blooms with the light of a new day. He woke me up with thrashing arms and a yell so loud I swore someone was trying to murder us. My heart rate settles when fingers weave through the length of my hair.
“Do you want breakfast now that we’re awake?” I peer up at him.
With a listless inhale, he mutters beneath his forearm. “I’m going to go home. I always run before I eat.”
I flip onto my stomach, half on the bed and half resting on his abdomen. “Surely you don’t need to go right now, do you?”
“My shift starts in a few hours.” He thumbs my chin. “I thrive on routine, like you make lists.” His body temperature is somewhere between feverish and mild, yet his tone resembles crushed glass, like he’s disguising intense pain. “I should get going.”
He scooches out from under my weight and swings both legs off the bed. I clamber up behind him, snaking my arms around his neck. The faint hint of his cologne still lingers, and a five o’clock shadow feels a bit coarser.
“Tell me what’s upset you. We can talk about it. A problem shared is a problem halved.”
“I’d rather not talk about it.” He shoots me a tight smile in the wardrobe mirror. “It was a stupid nightmare.”
Goosebumps rain down my arms. “If it was only a nightmare, then what’s the problem with telling me?” I lower my voice, uncertain by the sinewy muscles tensing in his neck.
A solemn gaze drops to his bare feet. “What do you want from me, Viv? It’s like we’re speed dating or I’m under investigation.” Danny drags a hand down his face and sighs. “You have an actual list of questions. I don’t want to replay a shitty dream that I’d rather forget. It’s really no big deal. How about I make a fresh pot of tea before I leave?”
My temper simmers. “What’s the difference between writing my questions in list form, to having them noted in my head? They’re normal things to ask. I'm interested in getting to know you more. What’s wrong with that?”
Now, I’m riled and hurt. Unsure what to say next, I scramble off the bed and wrap a fluffy gown over my shoulders. When I glance back, he jams fingers into his tousled hair. I barge into the bathroom, clutching my chest as if it will stop my stupid heart from sinking to my toes.
Once the door is locked, I slide my spine down the wall and bury my face into my knees. Confusion scatters the small space like an intricate puzzle. I’m so frustrated. Why won’t he open up to me?
There’s a knock at the door. “Viv... I’m sorry. I’m shook up after the bad dream. Can we talk about this before I go? I didn’t mean to be a dickhead.”
“Just a minute, I’m brushing my teeth,” I lie, crawling over to the faucet.
The lonely toothbrush sitting by itself in the cup reminds me how it felt to spend nights alone before Danny. My hand tightens around it as I squeeze out some minty paste. Perhaps I deserve this. I fell in love too fast, too soon. Nonna tried to forewarn me. I was hasty and foolish to give myself to the first man who crossed the ocean of my desires. It was all a fanciful wish, or perhaps petty arguments are a relationship reality.
The heart doesn’t care for being careful. Love just happens.
Wini’s words hang in my thoughts. I’m acting like a naïve adolescent. Unprepared and childish.
“C’mon, Viv. I’m really sorry for snapping at you about your lists. I’m trying to deal with some stuff, and the nightmare was bad timing. It took me by surprise. I haven’t had one of those since we’ve been together,” Danny calls from the other side of the door. “I’ve got the answer to question number two on your list, if you’re interested.”
I rinse and spit, making sure my robe belt is knotted tightly. After I open the door, I cross my arms and clear my throat. “I don’t care about the list anymore. It’s dumb.” My toes dig into the carpet, and I raise my chin a tiny bit higher. The slight elevation allows me to see the explosion of amber sparks in his gaze. It's both welcoming and guarded.How did I not notice the reticence before?
He touches his temple and dips his head. “Your lists aren’t dumb. It shows me you care. I’d love to answer every question you ask me. I want more than anything to be worthy of you. But—” My skin goes cold when he hesitates. “I can’t stop myself from falling for you, Viv. I don’t want this—” He waves his hand from me to him. “To come crashing down around me when you dig deeper.” Instead of inching closer, he backs away.
“Forget about the questions,” I say in a burst. “I wrote the list in bed while you were away. Probably because I missed you.”
He shakes his head from side to side. “I knew it wouldn't be easy. I just never expected it to be this...”
I hold up my hands, adrenaline taking over. “I’m not putting pressure on you.” I swallow hard. “But is there something important you’re holding back? You can tell me anything. I’m here for you, no matter what. I’d like to be the one person you look for when you need to talk about stuff.”
His gaze flickers to mine. “Number two on your list—my favorite book. It’s not exactly a favorite, more of a helpful read. It’s called The Psychology of Survival after Trauma.”
My veins freeze over. “Okay.”
He doesn't say another word. The title hangs in the hush that follows. I’ve used up my one question for the day, and after that bombshell admission, I’m scared to pursue details with another.
“I have to go.” He turns away, hands clenched and mouth firmly shut.
