Hell, I don’t even know myself why I’ve done it.
“You’re right. It isn’t your place,” she whispers softly, slipping around me to get away.
“Can I at least give you a ride home?”
She hesitates, “My dad works a double tonight, as I’m sure you’re well aware…” her voice trails off, “Would you mind if I crash at your apartment again? I don’t like being alone when I don’t feel well, and I’m used to living with roommates.”
Well, I hadn’t expected that. It’s a simple request, but something about it unsettles me. Still, I nod, hating the thought of her spending every night alone this summer while her dad is on shift. He works a lot, and it doesn’t sit right with me, but I can’t leave her alone if she isn’t feeling well. I’m just not wired that way.
She follows me out to my truck, her quiet footsteps behind me as we weave through Hank’s parent’s mansion. Truth be told, I didn’t care much about his party. I’d only agreed to stop by because Hank is the new guy at the department, and the rest of the crew finds him unsufferable. I was trying to be the friendly one, but my plan had been simple—show up, say hi, and then head off for a late-night training session with Dallas.
But then Dallas shut that down with a call on my way over. Told me he wouldn’t train me yet because of my ribs.
Prick.
The cab of my truck is silent as I make my way out of the affluent neighborhood and back towards my apartment located in town.
“Do you think you ate something bad?” I ask, breaking the silence.
Her head whips in my direction, her mouth popping open slightly as she stares at me - correction,glaresat me.
“I don’t know.”
Ok…
More silent driving.
“You know, sometimes you give me whiplash, Clay.”
It’s my turn to look at her confused. I raise my brow and then shift my focus back to the road, “How’s that?”
“‘I don’t need anyone to take care of me, been doing it fine my whole life and I’m not about to start now. Get out of my apartment,’”she responds, mocking my voice from a few weeks ago with an edge of frustration. “Remember that? And now, here you are, offering me a ride home and asking me if I’m ok like you’re trying to take care of me. It’s this whole,” she gestures up and down my body with a sweep of her hand, “hot and cold routine. I never know which version of you I’m going to get.”
I let out a rough laugh, one that doesn’t sound believable.
She’s right. I’ve been all over the place with her, and it’s because every time I feel myself softening, wanting to pull her closer, I slam that door shut. I remind myself that she’s too young, that I’m not what she needs, and that if I let her in, I’ll only hurt her.
I push her away to protect her from who I really am despite my attraction towards her.
“Are you friends with Hank?” she asks, changing the subject.
“He just joined the fire department. I thought I’d show him some support since he invited the whole fleet, and no one else wanted to go. Wasn’t planning on staying long tonight.”
She nods silently, her gaze drifting to the window, her hands fidgeting—clenching and unclenching, twisting together before she switches to massaging each wrist, then slowly working through each finger like she’s grounding herself.
“You used to do that a lot,” she says after a long pause.
I wrinkle my brow, “Do what?”
“Do stuff that you really don’t want to do to make other people feel welcomed. You always had a way of bringing people together and making them comfortable in uncomfortable situations. Making them feel like they’re a part of the group.”
The crease in my brow deepens.
“I’ve changed a lot,” I say, breaking the silence. “I still try to be kind, but I’m not the guy I was when I was your age. I’mnot so worried about other people’s feelings anymore, and I don’t always try to laugh my way through life. Sometimes, the situation just sucks, and you’ve got to sit with it. Not everything needs to be lightened up. And some people? They don’t deserve your support.” I blow out a breath, “Some people are just... shitty. Hank hasn’t given me any reason to believe he’s shitty, so I figured I’d show up tonight. Seemed like his party mattered to him.”
She nods her head as she continues to stare out of the window. I really hope she’s not creating some fantasy version of me in her head—someone I’m not. Because if she is, it’s only a matter of time before I disappoint her and shatter whatever dream she’s built around me... again.
“You’ll see someday. There’s a big difference in the things you care about when you’re in your twenties versus thirties. People change. It’s a good thing.”
