Chapter 11 #2
A flicker of surprise flashes in her large brown eyes. “You didn’t have to go to all this effort for me,” she says, her words soft. “I’m not worth the hassle, but thank you.” Her tone is teasing, self-deprecating, yet, I have a sinking feeling that it goes much deeper than that.
I want nothing more than to wrap her hands in mine and reassure her that it wasn’t a hassle. If anything, I wanted to do it. But rather than touch her again, I say, “It was no hassle at all.”
She shifts, her teeth sinking into her lip, and eyes me. “Since you know my life story.. . .sort of. Tell me a bit more about you.”
She dips the corner of her sandwich in ketchup, and I desperately try not to grimace.
“Tell me about you without judging me for my condiment choice.” As she takes a bite, she playfully rolls her eyes.
“I was born on a cold January morning in 1992 to my loving mother, Dana Hart—”
She rears back. “Dude. Come up with your own clever intro.” She lets out a playful laugh. “Actually, I have a better idea. Rapid fire questions. Ready?”
My chest pinches. Icebreakers? An introvert’s worst nightmare. But. . . “Do I have a choice?”
“Nope.”
I sigh and resign myself to the game. I’m not great at talking about myself, but for her, I’ll try. “Hit me with them.”
“Why travel nursing?”
I rub the back of my neck, soothing the tense muscles there.
“My mom was a nurse. And I’ve always looked up to her.
For the travel part, I guess staying in one spot for too long makes my eye twitch.
I love seeing new places. So I can be on the coast for a few months, then find myself in the desert.
I like a little bit of snow, but I don’t want to endure entire winters. ”
She nods thoughtfully. “Great answer. Favorite national park?”
“Joshua Tree.” The answer comes without hesitation.
She stops chewing, her eyes narrowing in on me. “Mine too. Interesting. Zodiac sign?”
“Aquarius.”
“Leo,” she replies.
“You’re wondering if the stars think we’d get along, aren’t you?”
She waves me off. “Nah. I wouldn’t do that.” She hums, her attention drifting. “Not in front of you, at least. So, siblings?”
“Only child.”
“Parents?”
“Just my mom.”
She tilts her head to the side. “Where’s your dad?”
“He left when I was six weeks old.” A knot forms in my stomach just like it does every time I talk about my father. “I guess you could say I have daddy issues.”
A smirk tugs at the corners of her cheek. “You have daddy issues.” She points to me and then points a finger back at her. “And both my parents are dead. Should we attend a therapy session together as a roommate bonding activity?”
I nod, my mood lifting immediately. “Nothing says everlasting friendship like unloading our trauma on each other,” I quip.
“Sounds like a solid base for the perfect friendship.” She lets out an over-dramatic sigh. “You’re exactly my type of guy.”
My type of guy.
My heart clenches and those words bounce around in my brain. She’s only making light of the situation, but heat creeps up my cheeks anyway.
If only I really was.
“Enough of the depressing stuff.” She takes another bite of ketchup-covered grilled cheese. “Tell me about a movie that makes you cry uncontrollably.”
“That’s less depressing?”
She sits back in her chair. “Huh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” With a final bite of her sandwich, she scans the kitchen like she’s thinking of another question. “Okay,” she finally says. “Tell me something embarrassing that’s happened to you.”
“Oh. So we’re jumping from depressing to mortifying. Got it.” I bark out a laugh, and she joins in. “Fine. A few months ago, I asked a patient if they were excited to go home.”
She leans in, wearing a confused frown. “What’s embarrassing about that?”
I rub my hand down my stubbled jaw, the memory making my chest tight. “The guy had been brought in from the nearby prison.”
She winces. “Oh my fucking god.”
Head dropped back, I squeeze my eyes shut. “It kept me awake at night for weeks.”
“And now I’m suffering from second-hand embarrassment.” Her shoulders shake with laughter.
“It rivals that time I told a guy it was nice of his mom to come with him.”
“Please don’t say it.”
I can’t help but shudder at the memory, my shoulders hunching. “It was his wife.”
Joey breaks into uncontrollable laughter so violent she nearly falls off her stool. “Jesus, Beckett.” Standing, she picks up her plate.
I stand too, reaching for the dish. “Here, I got that.” Our fingers brush, and at the sensation, my heart stills.
“No way,” she says, her voice quiet. “You’ve done so much for me already. It’s the least I can do.”
Shaking my head, I take it from her. “I melted a slice of cheese between two slices of toasted bread.”
With a heavy sigh, she sits again. “Fine. Fine. I’m too tired to disagree.”
I do a quick sweep of the kitchen, tidying up the mostly spotless space, searching for any excuse to keep this moment between us from ending. “Are you not going to tell me something embarrassing about yourself?”
She scoffs. “Absolutely not. You’ve seen me passed out and disoriented.” Leaning back, she wraps her cardigan tighter around her body. “Now that’s been keeping me up at night.”
My heart thumps against my rib cage. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Are you going to tell me it ‘happens all the time’ to make me feel better too?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Because a blind dog knocking a person from a chair is not a common occurrence.”
“At least you’re honest.”
When she yawns, I admit defeat. It’s late. She’s probably exhausted, and now I feel guilty for keeping her up when she should be asleep.
“We should get to bed. You need your rest.” I shuffle to the light switch and flip it, shrouding us in darkness except for the faint glow from the light upstairs, casting jagged shadows down the staircase.
She yawns again, sliding off the chair, and pads toward her bedroom. “You’re probably right. Good night. I look forward to more embarrassing stories from you.”
I let out a sheepish laugh, running my fingers through my hair. “Wait until I tell you about how I accidentally got caught up in a biker gang on my way home from work one day.”
Joey rubs her tired eyes, but when my words register, she perks up, her exhaustion dissolving instantly. “Nope. I can’t wait for that. Tell me. Now.”
“Nope. You’ve used up all your Daily Beckett Facts. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” I wink.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight. This boldness is unfamiliar yet welcome.
Joey’s peculiar humor and charm aligns perfectly with my own oddities. Already, I feel like I’ve known her for years—that’s how effortless it is with her.
We assess one another in the darkness for a moment too long. Without a single word, we share a knowing smile.