“Oh…” I hold the blanket out, and she snatches it from my fingertips. Her movements are swift and efficient as she places the blanket at the bottom of the bag and stacks clothes on top of it.
An awkward silence settles around us as Emily avoids my gaze. I’d slip out the door, but I don’t want to hurt Aurora’s feelings. We’re stuck here together and destined to regularly see each other. We need to figure out how to co-exist without biting each other’s heads off.
Think of something to say that won’t piss her off. Anything. “How do you like working as a paramedic?”
“Do you really want to know, or are you killing time until someone else gets in here?”
“No, I want to know.” Yes, I’m trying to find something to fill the silence, but I stupidly do want to know why she’s a paramedic. She could’ve been anything.
Emily pauses her stacking. “I love it. I’ve always wanted to help people, and I like the constant change of pace.” Her shoulders lower as she tilts her head sideways. Some of the tension in the room slackens as her eyes meet mine. “Every day is different. One day we’re taking a little boy to the hospital with a concussion and a broken arm, and tomorrow, it’ll be a car accident.” She inhales sharply as if she’s worried, she’s going to conjure up a catastrophe. “That came out wrong. I’m not wishing anyone to have a car accident.”
“I know what you mean.” I shove my hands into my pockets and lean against the counter. “Working as a police officer is the same. I went from helping a little boy with a broken arm and a knot on his head–”
“To flirting with his mom?”
I shake my head. “She was flirting with me. Not the other way around.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Not your type?”
“No.” My gaze doesn’t leave hers. “No, she’s not my type.”
My type is you, and she wasn’t you. I bite the words back because until this moment, I hadn’t been willing to admit it even to myself. But now that it’s floating around in the universe, I’m afraid to ruin the first civil conversation we’ve held in years.
She gnaws on her bottom lip like she’s going to ask me what my type is. When her gaze dips to my lips, a slight flush covers her cheeks.
My heart skips a beat. “My ty–”
“Hey, guys.” Kaleb barges into the room with a harried expression on his face. “I’ve got to go.”
“What’s going on?” Emily wipes her hands on her jeans.
“Fire. Gotta go.” He gives us a quick wave and calls over his shoulder, “Tell Ma, I’ll be back later tonight.”
The muscles in my back tighten. I’m not on call, but this is where I grew up. My home. Or at least, my hometown. But I can’t rush off to every emergency. If I do, I won’t be ready for when I’m on call.
The door slams shut, drawing my attention back to the present. Emily places her hand on my bicep. “It gets easier.”
“What does?” The concern in her eyes makes my stomach flip.
“Working in your hometown. It’s not as easy as it would be to work around a bunch of strangers. I still worry about every call, but it does get easier.”
I inhale and nod as she straightens, putting distance between us. “You’re right. When I worked as a police officer in Columbia, I had the typical fears of something devastating happening to a person, but I rarely knew them as individuals.” I rub a hand over my face. “But here, it’s different. Every call is someone I know. Or potentially someone I know. That makes everything ten times harder.”
“Or….” She gives me a weak smile. “Ten times better. You’re helping people you care about and keeping your hometown safe. That’s a pretty big deal.”
“Thank you.”
Emily leans against the counter next to me and crosses her arms over her chest. “Honestly, I always figured you’d became a cop because you needed control.”
“Control of what?”
She shrugs but her eyes never leave mine. “Everything.” A beat passes. “Especially me.”
Her fingers tighten around her elbow, nails digging into the fabric as the words land like a punch to the gut.
“That’s not what it was.” My voice is sharper than I intended. “I wasn’t trying to control you.”
“No?” Her brows lift.
