Page 82 of Night Shift

“You know,” Atticus said, catching yet another yawn of mine, “you just need to give it a few years in the ED, and you’ll be as tough as me.” He flashed a cocky little grin that was equal parts teasing and proud.

He’d been on a roll for our entire walk, making snarky comments about the fragility of people my age.

“Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes. “As if that has anything to do with it. Nooo, it wouldn’t have anything to do with you fucking me six ways to Sunday.”

At that, he burst into genuine laughter, his eyes heating as they swept over me.

He’d been in a strangely good mood since we started our walk. Our heart-to-heart had been cathartic, like hitting a reset button. And when he had suggested we take a walk through the neighborhood park, it felt like we were finally breathing easier, finding a slice of normalcy in the whirlwind of the last few days.

“Need I remind you again to never roll your eyes at me? There are consequences for that, you know.” The smirk on his face sent warmth to my most intimate places, reminding me how sore I was from the sexy doctor who now stood at the center of my life.

While we continued to walk, he held my hand. We meandered along the path, chatting about everything and nothing. It was the most uneventful yet oddly comforting time we’d shared. It was a much-needed reprieve we both needed.

On our way back, Newton, the neighbor’s black-and-white shih tzu, bounded up to us, wagging his tail like he was trying to take off. Amused, I scooped him up, and his little body vibrated with excitement as I scratched behind his ears and waved to the neighbor lady.

When Atticus reached out to pet him, Newton responded with enthusiastic licks, prompting me to tease, “Looks like he’s decided you’ve worked through your demons and you’re friend material now.”

In return, Atticus shot me a look that screamed, “Really?” but the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile. Clearly, Newton’s seal of approval meant more to him than he wanted to admit.

Once we got back to his place, we both sank into the couch, exhausted and content.

“Why don’t you pick something for us to watch?” Atticus suggested, handing me the remote with a gentle nudge. “Anything you want.”

I scrolled through Netflix, landing on the holiday section. “How about a Christmas movie marathon? It’s the perfect time for it, right?”

He chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

While I cued up the first movie, Atticus got on his phone to order us some food. “Hope you’re in the mood for sushi. I went all out—salmon nigiri, a rainbow roll, some spicy tuna. I even got us some tempura veggies.”

My stomach immediately responded with a rumble. “That sounds amazing. Can’t wait.”

With the movie playing and our food on the way, a cozy silence enveloped us. It was comfortable and easy. But there was one thing that I’d been curious about. “So, why don’t you have a TV in your bedroom? Any reason for that?”

He paused the movie, then turned to me with a thoughtful expression. “You know how you told me you didn’t want to use your phone during our hike? Wanting to be in the moment? I feel the same about having a TV in the bedroom. It’s about making those moments count, not getting distracted by screens.”

I smiled, appreciating our similarity. It was one of the things I admired about him—his ability to be present, especially in the bedroom.

The conversation naturally drifted to Christmas, inspired by the festive movies we were watching. “I’ve been meaning to ask, why haven’t you put up any Christmas decorations?” I said.

Atticus sighed. “I haven’t celebrated Christmas in years. It just…hasn’t been the same since I was a kid, and even then, it wasn’t a huge thing.”

“Christmas used to be everything to me. My mom and I would decorate the tree and bake cookies. Our house was always full of music—that is, up until she passed… After that, it just wasn’t the same. My dad couldn’t stand the sight of decorations, and of course, everything changed.”

He turned to face me, eyebrows arched, his head slightly tilted in silent curiosity about where this was leading.

“Well, so, this year, I was super excited to decorate and fix up my place for the holidays, since I’d just moved to Tacoma and all. Especially since it’s my first Christmas away from Aberdeen. I had all these plans for a fresh start, you know? Then my apartment got ransacked, and now that I’m your…guest, I was curious if you were going to decorate or anything.”

Atticus reached over, took my foot in his hand, and began massaging it. “I don’t have any Christmas decorations, but I got a call from the cleanup crew. They’ll be bringing your stuff home tomorrow. They just need a bit more time. Maybe some of your decorations survived.”

Hearing him say they were bringing my things “home”—like it was my home too—sparked something hopeful inside me. It felt like a promise, a beginning.

“But I’ll be honest with you, Sammich. I haven’t celebrated holidays in years, nor have I given it any thought. Not sure how I feel about you decorating this place,” he admitted, frowning slightly.

I let out a sigh and slumped my shoulders, not hiding my disappointment. “But decorating could be fun. It’s about making the place festive. It’s about making it feel homey.”

For a few minutes we went back and forth debating it. I tried to convince him how fun celebrating Christmas could be, but he continued to express his doubts. “I’ll think about it,” he finally conceded. “Let’s not worry about it tonight.”

Our food arrived, and we feasted on it, not letting a bite go to waste. We laughed so hard at the fried pussycat scene in Christmas Vacation that I almost peed myself. As the evening wore on, with Christmas movies playing in the background, we found ourselves relaxing and drifting off. With the movies still running, we nestled closer on the couch, eventually falling asleep snug and warm, fitting perfectly together. It was all we needed for the moment.

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