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“I’m taking forty-eight off,” he rumbles. “Then I’m back to it. No broken bones,” he cuts in when I open my mouth to argue. “Everything’s fine but for a gnarly bruise in the shape of a tank valve.” He grunts again, so I see him in my mind, turning to his side in bed. “Knocked the wind out of me, that’s all. I’d have called you earlier, but my phone got smashed during the fall.” He stops for a beat, then I hear the smile in his voice. “Griffin delivered a new phone a little bit ago so I could get my shit organized.”
“I wanna come over.” My heart thunders, anticipating his immediate rejection. Just like he’s dished out every other time I suggest such a thing. “Axel, I want to—”
“No.” Hard, unyielding, he rejects me the way he has a million times before tonight. “Nicole and June are here. They’re staying the night, since my sister is obsessed with making sure I don’t die.”
“How dare she?” I joke through my tears and the nerves that come out in each word I speak. “It’s ridiculous that people might care about you, huh? Jerks. All of us.”
“Dunno why they should,” he huffs. “I’m a big boy. And I don’t ask for people to worry. It’s not healthy for them, nor does it help me do my job any safer.”
“You really need to stop with the martyr act, ya know that?” I set my elbow on the counter, and prop my chin in my palm. My long brown ponytail falls across my shoulder and touches the white marble counter so I see each color in stark contrast. “Let people love you, Axel Feeney. It’s not gonna be so bad.”
He coughs out a tiny, almost silent laugh that hurts my stomach rather than eases my anxiety. “Are we talking abouteveryone, Han? Or are we talking about you?”
“We’re talking about you,” I toss back. “We’re talking about your stubborn streak and inability to stop parenting everyone around you.”
“I have to parent. Nic needs me. June needs me.”
“And me?” I harden my eyes, though I know he can’t see me. “What about me?”
“You’re still a teenager,” he sighs. “You need parenting the most, because clearly, you can’t be trusted to make good decisions for yourself. Thanks, Nic.”
I remain silent while Nicole’s muted chatter echoes through the call. While I wonder if she knows who he’s talking to on the phone. Then I think about how she gets to be there, loving him freely. Openly.
She never risks rejection. Never has to worry that his interest in her will be hot one day, cold the next. His love for her is unconditional and lasting.
Whereas his affections for me depend on his mood on any given day.
If he’s feeling light and fun, I get more access. But when he’s had a tough day at work, when he’s been injured, or his shift was one of the harder kinds, I get locked out. Shut down and pushed away.
Not only that, but he keeps whatever we have on the quiet, so though Nicole knows I flirt with her brother, not once does she stop to question if my feelings are genuine or if maybe I would like to leave work to run to his side in an emergency.
“I’m settling in with June,” Nicole mumbles on the other side of the line. “She’s a little worried, so I’m gonna take her to the spare room and lie with her. We’ll watch a movie or something until she falls asleep.”
“Okay.”
I hear them hug. The rustle of clothes. And then the peck of a kiss on a cheek. Then she walks away so her feet brush on the carpet. The door closes.
“You’re alone now?” I whisper. “She’s gone?”
“Yeah.” He sips something, and exhales as he brings it away from his lips. “I’m gonna hang up in a sec, okay? I’m tired as fuck and wanna sleep.”
Rejection. So much cruel rejection for no good reason.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” I murmur. “You’re making us both sad because you refuse to love me back.”
He coughs out a laugh that ends on a groan of agony. He’s so sore. So tired. “I love you back, Han. That’s the fuckin’ problem.”
“You’d prefer to hate me?” I bite out. “Dammit, Axel. Most people go all their lives looking for their someone. And once they find them, they get to be together. It’s literally that simple. But for me and you…”
“I’m saving you from a lifetime of waiting up and worrying.”
“Axel—”
“Ya know, Nixon snuck a radio to his girl recently. So she could listen in on our every job. He thinks the crew don’t know,” his voice softens, sleepy and verging toward a modicum of relaxation. “It’s not allowed, and he definitely didn’t tell us. But we know, because we’re all pretty tight down at the firehouse.”
My brows pull tight in curiosity. “So…?”
“For them to be together, to be happy, he’s given her a radio, all so she can worry less while he’s gone.”
