She hesitated. “Why I’m afraid of storms?”
“Yes.” The ends of her hair tickled his fingers. He reached up and stroked the strands at her head, following the length all the way down to her shoulders. Again. Long, languid strokes. Rhythmic. Soothing. For the both of them, he hoped.
She hadn’t said anything for so long he’d figured whatever was the cause of her fear, she didn’t want to talk about it.
But then she spoke. “During one of my hospital stays, a big storm hit. The kind where the sky goes nearly black even though it’s only two o’clock in the afternoon. A tornado warning was issued, and I lay in the hospital bed watching nurses take turns at the window, peeking through the blinds and assessing the storm’s progression. The sound of the rain alonewas what I imagined a machine gun on a tin can to sound like, and that’s saying nothing of the reverberating booms caused by the thunder. I was a little nervous but not too scared. Storms like that happen all the time around here, right? I’d already lived through some, and nothing bad had ever happened before.”
He kept stoking her hair. “But this one was different.”
“The power went out, but again, I didn’t really think anything of it. I knew hospitals had backup generators, so I just waited for the generator to kick in and the lights and machines to come back on and start working again.”
An ominous foreboding ballooned in Levi’s chest.
“It took too long. For whatever reason, the generator didn’t kick in right away, and by the time maintenance got them running, it was almost too late. The little boy in the hospital bed next to me had to be resuscitated. He very nearly died.”
Levi hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head. What should he say? Anything he could think of would only sound trite or platitudinous. He had to try, though. To give her some sort of comfort.
“I’m so sorry you had to experience that.” He gave her head another kiss. “Anyone would be scared of storms after a trauma like that. Your feelings are valid.”
Hayley pulled in a deep lungful of air. She lifted so she could look into his eyes. “I don’t like to think about it, so I need you to distract me from those memories. Tell me why don’t you like storms.”
Levi stiffened, and not because of any thunder.
Hayley’s brows drew low. Concerned. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I hope you know that you can.” She paused as if deciding if she should say more. She must have chosen not to because she became quiet. Simply rested her head against his shoulder and looked up at him.
Their faces were so close that it would be easy to lean down and kiss her. Wipe away her bad memories and questions and hopefully every thought with the press of his lips to hers. It was tempting.Shewas tempting. But it also didn’t feel right.
Even after Hayley had shared something painful and personal, Levi still wrestled within himself. It was a hard thing, admitting to struggling with everyday things that no one else seemed to think twice about or even notice. No one seemed to understand why he had such a low tolerance to certain textures or found a combination of noises an assault on his ears or why certain smells could trigger immediate headaches. Why sometimes as a child he’d engaged in what he’d heard some adults describe as abnormal behavior like spinning or hanging upside down for long periods of time. He’d lost friends because he’d always decline invitations to things like concerts or trips to the movies or parties. He’d been dubbed the weird kid and had grown up to be the grumpy guy.
But Hayley had already seen his quirks. She’d already experienced his temper when he’d reached his limit and it became more than he could handle. And she was still there, literally closer to him than anyone had ever been as she loaned him her weight to manage his anxiety.
He swallowed hard, then pushed the words out. “It’s the thunder.”
She didn’t seem surprised at all at his admission. “Because it’s so loud?”
“Partly. More so because it’s unpredictable. I never know when thunder will crash, and so it’s like fighting blind. I can’t protect myself.”
“Have you ever tried using noise-canceling headphones?”
He readjusted his hold on her, supporting her shoulder more since she’d shifted off center. “Now you sound like my sister Trinity.”
“And?”
He shook his head, weighing his words and deciding whether to let the conversation end there or go further.
She peered up at him. Her eyes were deep pools of liquid chocolate, inviting him to dive in. Tobeall in. They held a promise that he was beginning to let himself believe. The way she looked at him, the weight of her pressing down on him with comforting, steady pressure—it made him feel safe. He’d spent so much of his life trying to protect himself from everything outside of himself, but he didn’t have to do that with Hayley. In fact, he was beginning to think that maybe he’d finally met someone willing to make room for him in their life.
“Trinity is studying at Clemson to be an occupational therapist.” He was so proud of her, but he had somewhat mixed feelings on things she’d said to him since starting the program. “She thinks...” He looked at the ceiling, not wanting to face the embarrassment that always came with the admission. “She thinks I have a sensory processing disorder.”
Hayley didn’t say anything.
In fact, she didn’t say anything for so long that he peeked down to gauge her reaction, a little afraid at what he’d find.
She blinked at him innocuously. “And?”
“And what?” He wasn’t sure how he’d expected her to react, but it hadn’t been like this.
She rolled her eyes and pushed herself back up so her weight was center over his body. She crossed her arms over his chest, then rested her chin on top of her arms and peered up at him through her lashes. She swiped at her bangs that had fallen into her eyes and settled back into position again. “You’re acting like an SPD diagnosis would be a death sentence. Like having problems processing the information your senses send to your brain somehow makes you defective or something. That’s just not true.” She looked at him, her smile slowly turning flirtatious. “I happen to think you’re a pretty amazing guy, Levi Redding.”
