Being a part of Wild Heart means I’ve been through a few of these reunification calls. They’re never easy but almost always joyful. Still, regardless of the number of times I’ve supported one of these calls, I get nervous as fuck, mostly because I have to look like the one who has it all together.
Me, the guy in the nineties pop band T-shirt with gauges and tattoos everywhere. Who would’ve thought?
It doesn’t help that I’m working with Javier to set up Ant’s call with his family. Javier’s so fucking hot that it makes me nervous, and his deep rich accent is killing me.
“Are you okay?” Javier asks, his hand on my back, his head bent toward mine. “You look nervous. Should I be nervous?”
I suck in a deep breath, unnerved by his…everything. “I—yes. I mean, no. You don’t have to be nervous. I’m nervous because Ant is important to us, and I really want this to go well for him. I’m fine though. Thanks for asking,” I say, smiling as my eyes fall to his lush lips, enjoying the way they curve into an understanding smile.
Oh my God, focus.
“Good. I’m nervous too,” he says, running his hand up and down my back, leaning in close enough that I can see his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It helps to know I’m not alone in that.”
I snort-laugh because, of course, then gesture to the bathroom and sort of awkwardly walk off.Keep your fucking head in the game, you putz.
As I wash my hands, I look at myself in the mirror, wondering what he must think of me. Also, the veins in my neck are pulsing.
Time to pretend I know what I’m doing.
Javier sent a text to his family, preparing them for a FaceTime call. His sister lives next to their parents, so they’ll be ready for the call a little faster than I thought they would be.
Taking Javier to the side to explain how these calls go, I try not to shiver when his hand automatically goes to my back. “I usually like to talk to the parents beforehand and set a few guidelines so it’s a good conversation and we don’t start by going into…”
“All the shit that happened to me?” Ant asks, and Javier steps away from me, taking his hand with him.
Ant’s shrewd eyes track between Javier and me as he pushes his tongue against his cheek. I send him a surreptitiouscut-itgesture, and he steps in close to me, wordlessly asking for a hug, something he’s been doing more and more of. I immediately wrap my arms around him.
“Exactly, and…”—I hesitate, waiting for his full attention—“if things go a little sideways, no using some horrible factoid to trauma-bomb people, yeah?”
He grumbles under his breath, then answers, “I don’t do that anymore. Hedy already said I couldn’t because somebody told on me.”
Guilty.
“Or,” I say, my hands approximating a sorry-not-sorry gesture, “someone with an advanced degree in clinical psychology realized what you were doing and shared that relevant information with a valued member of your care team.”
He narrows his eyes.
“It was the comment about the foot-fucker, wasn’t it?”
Thinning my lips, I send him a determined headshake. “That’d be the one with the spiders, my man. I fucking hate spiders. Kept waking up thinking something was crawling on my skin for a whole week after that.”
I shiver at the recollection.
He pulls a face and nods along. “Okay, fair. That one was bad. Especially the one time he lost his balance and squished his favorite tarantula. He was inconsolable.”
“Fuck you for that,” I say, flicking his forehead as he cackles into his hand. “And that is a perfect example of something you willnotbe saying to your abuelita.”
He rolls his eyes but also gives me another crushing hug. At the same time, I check on Javier, grinning.
Ah, shit.
His chin is lowered, and he’s tapping his forehead, his eyes and mouth downturned. We’ve just trauma-bombed him in the exact way I’d been trying to avoid.
Therapist of the year here, folks.
I catch his eye, and he tries to gesture away the emotion crashing down on him, but then his face collapses in grief, sharp and awful. He grips his collar, and Ant is blissfully unaware his uncle is silently sobbing behind him.
“Is this really happening?” Ant asks, laying his head on my shoulder. “Am I really going to talk to my abuelita right now?”
