Big Red Button
Adrian
I push open the door of the coffee shop; I step inside. The aroma of fresh ground espresso beans and cinnamon fills the air, instantly making me feel brighter and more awake. Cally called first thing and asked to meet up for coffee. We’ve been friends for a long time, but I don’t think he’s ever invited me for coffee. A blast of cool spring air rushes through the cafe, scattering the papers of a woman working on a laptop. I stoop to collect them, offering a warm smile when she thanks me.
Cally sits at the back, two coffees in front of him. As I pass by, I scan the displays filled with pastries while a young guy with neon pink hair arranges them in perfect order. When I reach him, he stands, offering a one-armed hug. I give him an incredulous look. We’re not huggers. He sits first, and I pull out the chair opposite him and drop into a casual position, one leg stretching out to the left.
“A day date, huh? Didn’t know you were that kind of girl.” I tease.
He sits up straight, forearms resting on the table, hands clasped. His expression is much too serious for this time of day. His gaze is fixed on my face, and I realize in an instant this isn’t a social visit. This isn’t my friend and teammate, Cally. This is Officer Colton Calloway. I straighten, matching his stance.
“Everything okay, Colton?” I ask, concerned something has happened back home.
He takes a deep breath.
“You know, we’ve known each other for a long time,” He begins. “If I were fucking up, I would hope you would tell me.”
We grew up together and played on the same hockey team in high school. Back then, Ronan, Cally, and I were inseparable. We thought we were invincible, believing that nothing could stop us. They were the guys I shared a beer with for the first time, backed me up in fights, and lied for me. He was always the best of us. The one who played peacekeeper, breaking up the fights Ronan, and I started. I search my mind for reasons to tell him he’s fucking up. The guy is a beauty. When I realize there’s nothing I need to say to him, I nod slowly, my expression undoubtedly one of confusion.
He returns my nod, sips his coffee, and then says, “What the fuck are you doing here, man?”
I sigh. Nah, I’m not making this easy on him.
“Here?” I ask, looking around. “Because you asked me to meet you for coffee.”
He rolls his eyes, huffing a laugh that’s free from humor.
“Quit playing coy — that’s not your style.”
I hold his stare. All friendliness is gone from my expression. He’s backing me into a corner, and if he came all this way to be a judgmental prick, this conversation will end fast.
A minute passes in tense silence before he finally breaks it.
“You’re not yourself. You’ve missed more practice in the last month than in years. Fighting with teammates over a chick you don’t even know. Now?” It’s his turn to look around, holding his arms out for dramatics. “Now, you’re in this city and left your job. For what?”
“Stop, man. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I grit out.
He leans in closer to me, lowering his voice.
“Alice has been saying some pretty messed up shit.”
I cock my head a little, brows pushing together.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Yeah. I saw her brother on the weekend. He said she told him you got physical with her when you stopped by the house. I told him she must be mistaken because the Adrian Liberty I know would never get physical with a woman.” The words don’t match the tone. He sounds uncertain.
I shake my head, laughing under my breath.
Of course, she’s trying this route.
I ball my fists to keep from punching something. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. After everything, this is how she wants to play this?
“Colton. I spent 3 years being a fucking teddy bear for that girl.” I work to keep my voice low to avoid a scene. “Three years of fluffy fucking pillows and scented candles, and now—after I break things off—you think I’d suddenly hit her?”
He sighs, scrubbing his hand through his hair and shrugging.
“Man. I don’t know. I don’t know what to tell you. Her brother is out for blood. He thinks—” He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t have to. I already know.
I drop my head into my hands for the briefest second before sitting back up and looking directly at my friend.
“I’ve never hit a woman,” I say firmly.
We sit in a tense silence for a while. My hands fist so tightly that my knuckles turn white. I would never. I am very aware of my size. I’m tall and have spent the last 20 years at least 5 days a week in the gym. At nearly 240 lbs of muscle, I realize I am intimidating. After feedback as a teen, I started sitting down during arguments or tense conversations, specifically with women or the kids I helped coach. The night I ended things with Alice was the first time I stood over her, and while it was intense, I asked her repeatedly if she was okay with it.
Did I scare her?
Colton’s face softens — he has known me for years. He knows I wouldn’t do this.
“I’m sorry, man.” He sighs. “People are worried about you. I’m worried about you.”
I am not entirely sure how to explain to him that I’m fine. I’m exactly where I need and want to be. The changes I’ve made in the last couple of months were long overdue. I loved my job in Kingsport, but changes last year left a sour taste in my mouth, and this was the push I needed to start fresh in a well-respected department. Alice. Things with Alice should never have gotten to the point they did, but she was comfortable.
Lex coming back into my life rekindled a fire that I thought died long ago.
I let my body relax, unclenching my fists and relaxing my shoulders. I take a deep breath and urge my heart to return to a normal rhythm.
“Colton, there is nothing to be worried about. I don’t know what I can say to ease your concerns, but I’m asking you to trust that I am exactly where I need to be.” I say quietly. Calmly.
He nods and offers a small smile.
“Ok, man. — please promise me you won’t do anything crazy. You’ll call me if you feel things are getting out of control.”
His eyes are full of concern. I nod along. I know why he’s worried.
“Things were so dicey for a while there,” He continues.
I know where this is going, but I can’t revisit that time.
“I got it, man. I know. I promise. We’re not there,” I insist, needing him to stop.
Colton nods slowly, leaning back into his seat and studying my face. We sit in silence, sipping our coffee. He looks contemplative as if he’s trying to read whether I’m lying to him. I hold his gaze, keeping my face neutral and relaxed. A long exhale escapes him, and he rubs his hand down his face before sitting up straight.
“Alright, man,” he says finally, doubt still evident in his expression. “I’m trusting you on this.”
He shakes his head as if physically trying to brush it away, leaning forward with a sparkle in his eye. I recognize that look — my buddy is back.
“Can we talk about this chick now?” There is a lightness to his voice. Excitement.
The sudden shift makes me laugh. Colton has always been a bit of a hopeless romantic, in theory. He loves the idea of love but gets bored quickly and, therefore, has never had a relationship that lasts longer than a few months. They usually end in him finding someone else and getting caught.
“Nothing to talk about, man,” I say, trying to sound casual.
“Bullshit.” He huffs out, laughing.
I know I’m not getting out of this without giving him something, so I redact as much as necessary to keep him thinking my head is on straight.
“She’s like the big red button that says ‘do not push.’ She is the itch of a mosquito bite you know you shouldn’t scratch. She blew me off all those years ago, and…” I hesitate a moment. How do I tell him I need to possess her without sounding completely unhinged?
“You hate to lose.” He supplies.
Yeah. That’s precisely it. I hate to lose. I nod, and he looks satisfied as if he understands. The thing is, this isn’t about winning; it’s about making her mine.
“I get it. I hate losing. I fucking love pushing buttons.” He quips, and we both laugh.
We chat a little longer, the conversation light. When we walk outside together, he slaps his hand on my shoulder, the tension of earlier gone.
“Will I see you at the charity game next weekend?” He asks.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I say.
We say our goodbyes, and he climbs into his unmarked cruiser. I watch him pull away, knowing he’ll head home and be the advocate I need so that everyone backs off and lets me figure this out, meaning I am free to push things with Lex to the next level.