Chapter 1
Callie
I drift between sleep and consciousness, feeling warm and safe. I can’t remember the last time I slept so many consecutive hours, and I’m reluctant to leave my snuggly cocoon between Nolan and Donovan.
Nolan, still dressed in the black button up and jeans he wore last night, is curled around my back, and we fit together like two nesting spoons. He breathes in slow, deep exhales against my neck, and his arms are wrapped loosely around my waist, his left arm pinned beneath me. Donovan sleeps bare chested facing me, his right arm outstretched underneath my pillow, while his left hand rests on my hip below Nolan’s arms. My head is less on the pillow and more on Donovan’s shoulder, tucked underneath his chin. His muscles are firm beneath my cheek, and his body radiates obscene amounts of heat. We didn’t start out this way, but sometime during the night we must have gravitated towards each other. It’s sweet, as long as I don’t think too hard about how attractive my friends are. I will not blush!
The soft murmur of the television behind me is interrupted by the swoosh and click of the front door opening and closing, but it’s the heavenly aroma of coffee that gets me to crack my eyes. Awkwardly tilting my head, I see Connor walking into the kitchen dressed in jeans and an unbuttoned flannel shirt, his sculpted chest and abs on display. Blood burns its way up my cheeks thinking how he caught me looking at him last night. Damn it! Now, I’m blushing.
With the siren call of caffeine and possibly the need to dunk my head in ice water, I try to squirm my way out from between Nolan and Donovan. My plans are quickly foiled when both guys tighten their grips and snuggle in closer. Nolan bucks his hips, and now there’s something hard pressing against my ass. So not helping. It’s a good thing I don’t get claustrophobic, because I’m now pretty much enveloped between their bodies.
With a lot of squeaking and huffing, I manage to twist my arms free and hear coughed snickers emanating from the kitchen. Lifting my head, I see Connor and Kaleb with coffee cups in their hands and amused smirks across their faces.
“Little help here,” I stage whisper at them.
Connor’s smirk turns to a grin, his white teeth glowing against his warm copper skin. He puts his coffee down on the counter, then walks over to our sleeping bundle of humanity. Reaching from behind Nolan, he tucks his arms around me and gently extracts me. Donovan and Nolan semi wake and grumble nonsensically as they release me, before rolling over and going back to sleep.
Instead of putting me down immediately, Connor carries me bridal style towards the kitchen, the scent of the forest outside clinging to his skin. My head rests against his aforementioned sculpted chest, and heat pours off him like he’s a walking, occasionally talking, furnace. Least I’ll never be cold with these guys around. Thankfully, once we reach the kitchen, he deposits me onto the counter. After caffeinating, definitely dunking at least my head in cold water.
“Thanks,” I murmur, my blush reaching nuclear levels.
He nods and picks his coffee back up.
Kaleb, looking attractively rumpled in a wrinkled white t-shirt that molds to his frame, dark wash jeans and bare feet, hands me a cup of coffee exactly the way I like it with just the right amounts of cream and sugar. For a moment I blink into space, slowly sipping my coffee, and think how I’m both pleased and internally groaning over all of the warm fuzzies I feel waking up surrounded by my friends. It’s like my armor isn’t in place yet, so all my random feelings are fluttering everywhere.
I’m about to ask where Felix is when I notice the CSI episode on TV. It’s at the point of the episode where they’re trying to recreate the crime, and I can’t help commenting, “That arterial spray is way off. Yeah, there’s some spurting, but not like it’s shooting out of an air compressor.”
Kaleb frowns, then following my line of sight, he sets his coffee down and jumps into frenzied action. “I’m so sorry, Callie,” he apologizes, his voice a deep rumble. “I can’t believe we were so careless. I’ll turn it off.”
“Huh?” I look over at him, confused. “It’s fine. You can leave it on if you want.”
He freezes mid step and turns back to face me. “It doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would it bother…” I trail off when it clicks into place. “I appreciate that you’re trying to be considerate about what I’ve been through, but please don’t start treating me like fragile glass.” I snort. “If anything, I’m the exact opposite.”
Neither Connor nor Kaleb look amused. My heart aches, worried that my fears are being realized, and they’ll treat me differently now that they know.
Softly, I continue, “I can only imagine how scary last night was for you guys. My flashbacks have never been that bad before, or I would’ve been more vigilant about it.”
Kaleb looks at me with tender eyes, a promise of safety and understanding, and walks over to lean against the counter next to me. He rests his hand on my knee, and little tingles chase up my leg. Knock it off, hormones!
“Callie, yes, last night was upsetting,” he confirms with his sweet, gentle smile, “but that’s not why I was worried about the show. I want to help avoid triggering you, because I don’t want you to have to go through that horror again-- not so I don’t have to witness it. Please, don’t ever feel like you have to protect us from yourself and what’s going on with you. We want to help.”
Connor nods in agreement, some of his dark brown curls falling into his face, and my chest feels tight. Too early in the morning for heart to hearts.
I take a sip of my coffee before responding, “Okay, I’ll do my best to tell you what’s going on with me, but in return, I need you to trust that I will tell you when something is or will bother me and not handle me with kid gloves. Agreed?”
Connor squints like he’s not sure he wants to agree with the second half, but Kaleb squeezes my knee and replies, “I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise I won’t worry about you or try to help. It’s kind of my thing. I’ll try not to suffocate you with it.”
I snicker, then release a mock sigh of the put upon. “Fine, but I reserve the right to tell you you’re worrying too much.”
“Deal,” Kaleb’s gentle smile turns back into a smirk, while he reaches for my free hand to shake.
Now, I’m wondering if I agreed to what I thought I did.
Kaleb picks up his mug and takes a swig of his coffee. “May I ask why the show doesn’t bother you?”
I chew on my bottom lip and ponder the reasons behind how I feel. “I think it’s because I know it isn’t real and can’t hurt me,” I answer after a moment. “I actually kind of like crime procedurals. The perpetrator is always caught in the end.”
“So you were triggered last night because it was a real fire,” Kaleb clarifies, his smooth features subtly shifting to a thoughtful frown.
“Exactly,” I confirm, sipping more of my coffee. The sweet caffeine is slowly making its way to my brain, and I feel more like myself. “It’s the full sensory input that I think affects me the most. For example, seeing a baseball game on TV might make me uncomfortable, but is unlikely to trigger me. Now, seeing a baseball bat in person, or…” I shudder, “actually seeing and hearing something hit with a baseball bat, has a far greater chance of triggering me in some way.”
Carefully, he asks, “Do you think you’ll feel differently if what you see on television more closely resembles something you experienced in real life?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I might feel really uncomfortable, or I might critique the inaccuracies of their special effects. They get a lot of stuff wrong.” I fidget, as I realize I’m getting close to sharing the severity of my abuse, even if indirectly. “There might be some trial and error with this. I’m sorry. “
“Don’t be sorry… and thank you,” he replies with a soft smile.
“For what?” I question, scrunching up my nose.
“For talking to us about this, and for trusting us with all that’s going on with you,” he answers.
I feel a little guilty about not elaborating on the scope of what’s happened to me. Right now, all I want to do is forget and delving into it all is too hard. It’s not like I don’t have enough on my plate.
Recalling what I was going to ask before all this started, I inquire, “Do you know where Felix is?”
A shadow of melancholy skirts across Kaleb’s dark brown eyes. “He’s outside. He goes to where… to the burn spot when he needs to think.”
I inwardly cringe, worried that what the others went through doesn’t come close to the trauma Felix is experiencing from witnessing my abuse up close and in real time. Added to his own traumatic history with fire… Crap. I have to make sure Felix is okay and not scarred for life… or afterlife.
I finish my coffee and hop down from the counter. “I’m going to go check up on him.”
“Would you like company?” Kaleb asks.
I shake my head while making my way over to the front door. “No, I think he might need a one on one at the moment.”
“Because of what he saw?” he questions with a searching gaze.
I sigh and nod. “It’s a lot and difficult to talk about. I promise to tell you more when I feel able, but it’s going to take time. It’s not that I don’t trust you…”
“It’s alright, Callie,” he reassures. “I want to know, because I want to be able to help you and because it’s a part of you, but I can wait… we can wait.”
Kaleb eyeballs Connor who’s looking at me speculatively. I wonder how much he’s figured out on his own. Can he tell how bad it was?
Kaleb continues, “I want you to tell us because you’re ready, not because you feel pressured.”
Tears burn my eyes, and I have to blink them away. Without thought, I quickly stride over and hug Kaleb, the first one I’ve ever initiated in as long as I can remember.
He’s rightly surprised, stunned into inaction for a fraction of a moment, before setting his mug down and carefully wrapping his arms around me. His white shirt is soft against my cheek. I breathe in his scent of sandalwood and old books while listening to the steady thump of his heart.
“Thank you,” I whisper against his chest, the top of my head reaching below his chin.
He gives me a tight squeeze before releasing me. “You’re welcome, not that thanks are necessary.”
I shrug. “A lot of people would push, so thank you for waiting until I’m ready.”
I hesitate for a few heart beats, then turn and hug Connor. This hug is a little different than hugging Kaleb, mostly because Connor’s so tall. It’s more head against upper abs than head against chest… and his shirt is still unbuttoned. He returns the hug, his large hands resting on the middle of my back.
I tilt my head up to look at him, and he looks down at me. After last night and the past week, I feel Connor can read a lot in my eyes, so I don’t have to say how much he’s grown to mean to me and how grateful I am that he’s become part of my life.
Instead, I say, “You’re unbelievably tall. Remind me to grab a step ladder next time I hug you.”
He grins and pats the top of my head, which I take as he got my other message. I sniff then pull away, heading back towards the front door.
While slipping on my aunt’s uggs, which are little big for my feet, I announce, “New rule. All potentially emotional conversations must be reserved until I’ve had at least two cups of coffee. It’s unfair to try to get my brain to function before that.” I tuck in my flannel pajama bottoms into the boots, then grab and put on my red hoodie from the coat closet near the front door. “Now, for the second half of this emotional rollercoaster.”
Connor fills my mug on the counter with more coffee, and Kaleb adds the cream and sugar before handing it to me.
“Drink quickly?” Kaleb teases.
“Thanks,” I laugh, then salute them both with my mug before heading outside.