Sweet Nothing

  "Anything?"

  "Almost anything."

  "What can't I ask?"

  "Oh, c'mon!"

  "You said to ask you something! At least answer that."

  "I don't like talking a lot about my past."

  "Join the club."

  "Oh, sweet Avery Jacobs has skeletons?" He smirked.

  "Everyone has skeletons. So, pretty much everything is off the table with you."

  "Ask me. I can't promise I'll answer now, but I promise to answer later."

  I thought for a minute. "Why did you move to Philly?"

  "My grandfather got me a job at LifeNet here."

  I nodded. "Does your grandfather live here?"

  "He did when he first married Granny. They moved to Abbottstown when she found out she was pregnant. He had some connections here and said it would be good for me."

  "Why?"

  Josh squirmed. "Later."

  I nodded. "Were you always so ... charismatic?"

  "That's a nice way to say it. Y'know, it never occurred to me to be embarrassed about it, but sitting with you at the moment, I kind of am."

  "You don't have to be embarrassed. It's not like I'm a virgin."

  "You're not?" I couldn't discern the look on his face.

  My shoulders fell, and I looked at him as if I were bored with his question. "Please. I'm twenty-four. Do you know anyone our age who's a virgin?"

  "Just you."

  I cackled.

  He shifted in his seat. "How many?"

  "Are you fucking kidding me with that? You don't ask a woman how many people she's slept with on the second date."

  "If this were a date, I'd be ashamed of myself. We're hanging out ... getting to know each other. So far, I've learned I love it when you curse. It's hot."

  "Good. My dad had a mouth on him. Damn it was my first sentence."

  "How many?"

  "You first."

  "I don't know," he said honestly.

  "I'm not playing this game if you're going to cheat."

  He laughed. "I swear to God. I think maybe in the forties. Maybe."

  "You're a walking STD," I said.

  "Nope. I'm the safest bastard you've ever met. I get checked every three months like clockwork."

  "More like a prostitute."

  His mouth fell open. "Easy!"

  "Yes, that would definitely qualify you as easy," I shot back. "Two," I confessed.

  His smile vanished. "Two."

  "Yep. What?"

  "I don't know." He frowned. "I'm aware of how irrational it is, but I don't like the thought of you being with someone else."

  "Really? You're bothered by my single-digit number?"

  "I am. Who are they? I might want to Facebook stalk them."

  "You don't get names. I'm not a pristine virgin. Deal with it."

  His eyebrows pulled even more. "No. I'm feeling genuine anger over here. I'm going to have pretend you're a virgin."

  I rolled my eyes. "Don't tell me you're one of those guys who have slept with half the city but prefer their women untouched."

  "Not at all. I'm just now discovering I might be the jealous type."

  "That was awfully truthy of you."

  "Isn't that what we're doing?"

  "I guess so," I said. "What's in the hutch? It's locked."

  Josh looked over at the peeling white paint and thought about his answer. "It's my liquor cabinet. Only for emergencies."

  "What qualifies as an emergency?"

  "My mom's an alcoholic." He glanced to the hutch. "I've only opened that lock twice since I've been here. Both were wrecks involving kids. One shot of whiskey was over that car versus train with the toddler in May. I drank two shots for a van-full last month."

  I frowned. "I remember that one. I drank myself to sleep. You only had two shots?"

  He shrugged. "I made a deal with myself that I'd only drink in a bar. It sounds stupid, I know. But drinking at home is how it started with my mom."

  "It makes perfect sense, actually."

  Josh looked into my eyes, seeming to appreciate our conversation. He stood after someone buzzed the apartment. He walked over to the small silver square on the wall by the door and pressed the black button, letting them in.

  Josh pulled out his wallet, talking to the overgrown puppy scuttling around his feet. A few seconds later, someone knocked on the door and Josh answered.

  Jeremy from JayWok's delivery team stood in the hallway, handing Josh a large white sack. He leaned over, looking past Josh to wave at me. I waved back.

  "Thanks, man," Josh said.

  "Coco told me to tell you not to screw this up."

  "Bye, Jeremy." Josh shut the door, kicked off his shoes, and then returned to the couch.

  "You're two for two," I said, digging into my box of noodles. "Two great nights so far."

  "My two best nights in Philly since I've been here."

  I pressed my lips together, trying not grin like an idiot, and then nodded, looking down at my noodles.

  "My turn," Josh said. "What else do you hate, besides movie talkers and Christmas?"

  "Dating douchebags," I said without hesitation.

  "I can fix that, too."

  Water dripped from my chin as I hung my head, hands gripping my knees, struggling to catch my breath. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Fuck, keep it together. Nine. Ten.

  We'd managed to save the toddler who'd fallen into the family pool, but now it was my chest that was aching, memories weighing heavily on me as the boy's dark hair was replaced with curls in the recesses of my mind. I rubbed my palms against my dampened shirt, struggling to keep my calm. The boy's mother flung her arms around my neck and, from the rudimentary Spanish I understood, was thanking me for being his hero.

  I felt like anything but as Quinn pried her from my body, his voice fading in and out like a radio station that wasn't quite in tune. His pocket-sized flashlight was shining in my eyes like the headlights of a semi barreling toward me. The thought immediately brought Avery's sweet face and soft hands to mind as I batted him away and righted my body.

  "I'm fucking fine. Just tired."

  "Avery keep you up all night?" He smirked.

  I broadened my shoulders, widening my stance. Quinn and I often joked about women, but it didn't feel right when it was about her.

  "She isn't like that," I snapped. I pulled my shirt that clung to my skin over my head and tossed it on the vinyl seat of the ambulance. I rummaged through my duffel bag and pulled out a spare.

  "She shot you down?" Quinn asked.

  I glared at him and then pulled the fabric down over my stomach before turning to walk to the back of the meat wagon. "I didn't even try."

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them.

  "I'm sorry," he said, not really sorry at all. "Did you grow a fucking vagina?"

  I stopped walking, turning to face him. He nearly slammed into my chest. Quinn wasn't a small man, but I towered over him, at least half a foot taller.

  "I'm just saying, if you have one, you gotta show it to me. Sharing is caring."

  Shaking my head, I shouldered past him to the driver's seat.

  Quinn slammed both back doors and then jogged up to the passenger side. He slammed the door and leaned back, pulling his hat low on his forehead.

  I turned the key in the ignition, and the ambulance rumbled as we pulled out onto the main road. "Looks like you have your hands full with Deb."

  "That girl has the mouth of a sailor, only ... you know, tits and stuff, too."

  I shook my head and breathed out a laugh. "Sailors can be women too, you know."

  "You think she'd wear one of those sexy little sailor outfits for me?"

  "Deb? I think she'd let you throw bologna at her ass if it made you laugh."

  "You're right." He looked out his window, thoughtful. "She's perfect."

  Work had been exhausting, but I was reenergized as I stood at Avery's apartment door. She always se
emed to have that effect on me. I had dropped her off from work only an hour before, but gone were her dirty scrubs and messy bun. She had disappeared into her bedroom and reemerged wearing a strappy plum-colored dress that hung loosely from her hips and stopped just above her knees. I suddenly felt underdressed in my jeans and gray polo.

  "What do you have planned for us tonight?" she asked.

  "It's hard to top a junkyard and twenty questions, but I think I've found something you may like. This is for you." I held out a small box in my sweaty palm, hoping she wouldn't laugh in my face.

  Her eyebrows pulled together as her delicate fingers wrapped around the blue velvet object.

  "I hope you're not proposing, because I haven't packed for Vegas," she quipped, the dimples settling deeper into her cheeks.

  "Not yet," I replied before I could stop the words from spilling over my lips. "I mean not ever." Vomit. Word vomit was cascading out of my mouth like I was starring in The Exorcist.

  Her eyes widened and I put out my hand instinctively, as if she might kick me in the balls. "I didn't mean any of that," I groaned. "Just open the damn box already."

  Stifling a laugh, she opened the hinged cube and lifted the delicate ball chain from its tiny satin pillow. The shiny penny that had caught my eye that night in my car hung in front of her sparkling green eyes. I could see her imagination spinning as she waited for me to explain.

  "It's a good luck charm. You know, a lucky penny. I found it in my car the night of our accident."

  "I think we may have different definitions of good luck." Her eyebrow crooked up as I took the necklace from her hands and unclasped the chain.

  "You're standing here, aren't you?" I asked, waiting for her to turn around. She did, lifting her long hair from her neck. The skin beneath was soft and perfect. "And I'm standing with you."

  I slipped the necklace over her chest and fumbled with the clasp, my fingers too big to snap it back together. I used the opportunity to lean closer, inhaling the honey scent of her hair. "I'd say that makes me the luckiest man on Earth," I whispered.

  Her shoulders shook from a small shiver. After three attempts, the clasp finally locked in place. Avery let her hair cascade down her back, over my fingertips. It was as soft as silk, and I had to fight against the urge to slide my fingers through it.

  Turning back around, she grasped the penny that hung against her chest. "That's really thoughtful of you, Josh."

  I made a face, unsure if she was being sarcastic. "You've said that before."

  "I mean it."

  I shrugged, wondering if I'd made a fool of myself. "Flowers die, and we see enough of that at work. I thought this might help keep you safe, you know, when I can't be there to pull you from the wreckage."

  She breathed out a laugh. I placed my fingers under her chin to raise her gaze to meet mine. "Penny for your thoughts?"

  Her teeth raked over her lower lip. "You just ... you surprise me. You don't seem like this kind of guy."

  "What kind of guy is that?" I tried to push down the twinge of jealousy. I knew what kind of guy she thought I was and who had caught her eye first.

  "Well ... " She held up the penny and peered through the hole drilled into its center. Her eyebrows pulled together. "I just didn't see you doing arts and crafts. What's next? Scrapbooking? Painting happy clouds?"

  My grip was so tight on the steering wheel that my fingers ached. I'd never been so worried about impressing a woman. Chancing a glance at Avery, I relaxed. She was mindlessly rubbing her penny between her thumb and index finger.

  "You look nervous." I slowed to turn off Milton Avenue onto Broadbeck Street.

  "Maybe I am," she admitted, causing me to sit taller. "Not like that." She sighed, rolling her eyes for dramatic effect.

  "Like what?"

  "I just ... I get that this is kind of your thing. I see the way the women at work look at you, and how many you've gone through."

  "You think I'm just playing you? That this is all some sort of game to get in your granny panties?"

  "Well, yeah--wait, what? I do not wear granny panties! Who told you that? Was it Deb?"

  I chuckled. "I know I have a reputation. I'm not going to lie to you and say I didn't earn it." Putting the car in park, I turned to look at her as she wrung her hands together in her lap, visibly cringing. "I've never made any promises to anyone, Avery. Every one of those women knew what I was putting on the table."

  "You haven't made any promises to me, either." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but I could hear the tiniest edge of hurt in her words. "I guess I'm just saying ... if this is all part of the game, I don't think I want to play. I'm not like the other nurses."

  I reached over to her, hesitating before slipping her honey-colored strands behind her ear, my fingertips brushing against her soft cheek. She turned toward me, worry in her eyes. Whatever this was, she felt it too, and it was scaring the hell out of both of us.

  "Avery, you think that bothers me? That's what I like about you."

  I could see that she was still uncertain, but she was willing to trust me, to give me a chance. That's all I could ask for. Something changed the night I held her unconscious in my arms. I couldn't hurt Avery. If I had it my way, no one would hurt her again.

  She looked out over the row of trees before us. "You brought me to ... the woods."

  "Yes." I shoved open my door and made my way to her side of the car to open hers.

  She hesitated before sliding her palm against mine and letting me pull her to her feet.

  "I'm not really dressed for the outdoors. You should have warned me. I could have changed before we left."

  "You look perfect. Just trust me, Avery." Lacing my fingers between hers, I pulled her through the greenery, pine needles crunching under our feet. Her grip tightened on my hand as twinkling lights began to peek out between the branches.

  "What is this?" she asked. She began to walk faster, now the one pulling me. I couldn't wipe the smile from my face as her very own living Christmas tree came into view. I'd done my best to clear the area around the small pine. Finding the decorations in the middle of summer was the hard part. My family didn't celebrate much of anything after my sister passed away, and I didn't care to carry on any traditions when I moved out.

  She gasped, and I smiled.

  I didn't admit it to Avery on our last date, but I had reasons to hate Christmas, too. As much as I wanted to make all her old memories into happy new ones, I needed it for myself, too. Luckily, Quinn's mother had no shortage of twinkle lights, balls, and tinsel. She'd filled the box I'd brought over with every piece she could find, including a snowman made out of Styrofoam to add to the ambience. The rest took some creativity. I'd emptied damn near every shredder in the hospital to gather enough "snow" to lay on the ground around the tree. I promised to clean up every scrap of paper to be able to pull this off in Amos's Tree Farm.

  I reached up and tugged on a string hanging from a branch, making a cardboard box with holes cut in the bottom shake out its contents. The fake snow concoction I'd learned to make online floated down around us. Avery marveled at the sodium polyacrylate I'd harvested from a package of value diapers mixed with water, making me feel pretty damn great. The snow wasn't perfect. Some of it fell in clumps, but she seemed to appreciate the gesture.

  "Josh," she whispered. The sound of my name in her mouth made the hair on my neck stand on end. "This is incredible."

  "I almost forgot." Pulling my cell phone from my pocket, I scrolled through my music before slipping an earbud into my ear and holding one out for her. She held the tiny speaker to her ear, and her eyes brightened as White Christmas began to play. She beamed from ear to ear as she slipped her free hand back in mine and leaned her head against my shoulder.

  "Christmas isn't so bad," she whispered.

  From the corner of my eye, I could see her eyes glisten, reflecting the colors from the hanging lights above us.

  She looked up and then back at me, feigning disapp
ointment. "No mistletoe?"

  She was like gravity. My entire body moved toward her, and the only thing I could do was wrap her in my arms and touch my lips to hers.

  Even with my eyes closed, I could see my future with Avery. Everything I'd heard about first kisses and falling for someone manifested in that moment: fireworks, electricity, music playing, ridiculous happiness, and even bells ringing. Her lips parted, and I slipped the tip of my tongue inside. She squeezed my hand, nearly sending me over the edge.

  I pulled away, looking down at our fake-snow-covered feet. "Whoa."

  She picked white flakes from her hair and then glanced around, looking happier and more beautiful every second. "I also hate the little wrinkle above my top lip when I smile," she said, smiling and pointing to it. "Are you going to change that, too?"

  I shook my head. "I wouldn't change a damn thing about you. What else you got?"

  "Road trips."

  I leaned back. "Seriously?"

  "Loathe them. I don't think it's possible to fix that."

  "Make a list," I said without hesitation. Playing it cool or being aloof or hard to get wasn't fun anymore. Avery didn't want to play games, and there was no question I wanted Avery. I was all in, and I was hoping she meant what she said, or trying to wear my heart on my sleeve would blow up in my face.

  "Global warming, the smell of coconuts and cigarette smoke, white ribbed man tanks, being the center of attention, overripe bananas, spiders, baseball, screaming children, bacon, drool, gagging, mucus, crumbs, Howard Stern, static cling, bad haircuts, leaving Costco without a churro, and the word elbow."

  "Is that all?" I asked, straight-faced.

  She cackled. "What happens when we run out of things I hate?"

  A lot of things came to mind. I didn't want to ruin everything by saying even one of them. My brain was still buzzing from the way she tasted. I wasn't sure how anyone could think under this condition. "We'll make stuff up."

  Tugging her hand, I pulled her toward the clearing.

  "We're leaving already?" she asked, her bottom lip jutting out slightly.

  I laughed at her pouty face. "I'm trying to be a gentleman, Avery, and a gentleman wouldn't end the night pulling pine needles from his date's ass, if you catch my drift." I winked, and her lips spread into a wide, knowing smile.

  "I may have some hot cocoa at my place."

  She raised an eyebrow as I concentrated on her soft lips. I wanted to be the good guy she needed, but it was becoming increasingly hard, in more ways than one.