Elude (12 page)

"Look." I took a deep breath.

Sergio held up his hand, finally turning toward me. "Let's not do this."

"But—"

"No." Sadness filled his eyes. "I know what you're going to say."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yup… you have that look. May as well paint guilty across your face. It's the same look I saw on Nixon earlier. He told you. Now you know. Whatever."

"That's not what I was thinking." I lifted my chin in defiance.

Sergio's mouth tilted into a small smile. "Oh? Enlighten me."

"I was thinking about the kiss," I blurted.

Sergio's smile quickly turned into a cocky grin. "Were you now?"

"It's probably why I got dizzy and passed out," I pointed. "Your fault."

"So…" Smile gone. "…my kiss makes you sick?"

"That backfired," I grumbled.

He let out a humorless chuckle. "Andi, what do you want?"

Loaded question.

I wanted so many things.

I wanted to live. I wanted to hope that a transplant would work. I wanted to see what this thing was between us. This attraction that neither of us were actually admitting to.

I wanted to kiss him again.

I wanted him to want to kiss me.

"It's not rocket science, Andi. Just tell me right now, in this moment. What do you want? More than anything."

"You know how long it's been since anyone has actually asked me that?"

Sergio moved until he was sitting next to me on the bed.

I acted on instinct and reached for him.

"I want to hold your hand." The scary words were out before I could stop them. I always expected an irritated reaction out of Sergio.

But this time, he reached for my hand and interlocked his fingers, then brought my hand to his lips, kissing it gently. "That, I can do, Andi."

Sergio

SEX REMINDED ME OF NUMBERS.
It was mechanical; no love needed to be present. It simply existed to bring pleasure, and once the pleasure was done, you parted ways.

It was easy.

Not hard.

It made sense to me, a simple cause and effect; your body physically reacted; therefore, your hormones demanded you respond.

This whole time, out of sheer paranoia, I'd been avoiding sex with her, avoiding something that would bond us physically, something that would tie us together even more than we were already bound.

What I hadn't realized…

What I hadn't factored in…

Was the simple gesture of holding her hand.

The minute our palms pressed together, our fingers linked, something snapped inside of me.

I'd later come to realize it was that moment.

Not just any moment.

But the moment I fell for Andi.

And as our hands clenched, something inside of me shifted, my heart pounded a little faster, my breathing was a little quicker, and I realized, Nicolai, had been right.

Because my heart was invested.

And I knew it was only a matter of time before that investment turned on me.

Before the simple act of holding her hand would bring about a chaotic destruction I wouldn't be able to protect myself from.

He 'd been right.

The Russian bastard had been right.

Because I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that at the end of our time together, I was going to ask him — no, I was going to beg, on my hands and knees if necessary — to take the pain away.

To take the searing loss I'd feel.

When she left this life.

When she left me.

When I was without the sun — without her.

I glanced at her sleeping form. We had to stay in the hospital overnight. I knew the doctors wanted to monitor her. I also knew firsthand what their expressions meant. They were grim, hopeless, the same look my mom's doctor had had.

Unable to sleep, I picked up her chart and read through it again. She was on a list, but I knew unless a miracle occurred, she wasn't going to be getting any transplants soon.

A perfect match.

That's what she needed.

The odds of that happening were slim.

But I wanted her to try. It was stupid. I mean, I barely knew her, but the thought of her just… giving up? It destroyed me.

I quickly made a call — one I wasn't sure I was going to regret come morning.

She could never find out.

If she did, I'd be the one dead.

But maybe, even if it meant I died — it would be worth it. She'd been right before, when she said it was a two-twirl dress. She'd been gorgeous on her wedding day, and she deserved more than one twirl.

She deserved a hundred.

A thousand.

The least I could do was try to get her to that place where she could run without getting dizzy. Where she could twirl and truly experience life.

My fingers slid across the numbers on the screen.

"Yeah?" Tex barked into the phone. "How's our girl?"

"My girl's fine." I sighed. "Look, I need a favor."

"I'm not killing the doctors. They're the best money can buy and—"

"Not that kind of favor."

Tex paused. "This surprises me. Okay, you have my attention."

When I was done explaining, I was met with complete silence. I started to break out into a cold sweat.

"No promises," he finally croaked out. The line went dead.

****

Andi was discharged two days later. The doctors wanted to make sure she didn't have an infection. It turned out she'd just had a minor case of walking pneumonia. Though any sickness could potentially kill her — they'd given us the green light.

And she was back to her chipper ways.

Which included waking me up at dawn with her bat and pan.

And then singing at the top of her lungs while making eggs with extra ketchup… the ketchup she said represented blood, and, since I'd killed so many people, she wanted to remind me of my sins every day.

Her words. Not mine.

I continued holding her hand whenever she asked me to, and honestly, each time our fingers touched, it felt more and more like I was losing a part of myself.

I knew she was getting bored; you couldn't simply keep a girl like Andi cooped up in a house, but it terrified me that she would get sicker if we went somewhere, and as much as I hated to admit my own terror, well, there it was.

Finally after five days at home, something gave.

It happened when I was in the shower — because naturally Andi didn't do anything like a normal human being; her timing was always off, her ideas harebrained.

I was just putting shampoo in my hair when the door to the bathroom opened.

"Hey, sailor," Andi called.

"What the—" I dropped the shampoo onto my foot and turned. I wasn't in one of those showers, you know, the types that hid every part of you.

I lived in a freaking mansion. My shower was glass on every side and gave the impression that I was in a monsoon rather than a bathroom.

"Andi?" I licked my lips, not bothering to cover myself up. "Can this wait until I'm out of the shower."

"Nope." She heaved herself up onto the counter and smiled. "You're more vulnerable this way."

"No shit," I muttered then grabbed some body wash and continued trying to shower while her eyes drank me in.

"So…" She yawned.

I was slightly offended at her reaction. Could she at least stare wide-eyed and in absolute wonderment?

The woman did amazing things to my ego.

"I was thinking."

"That's unfortunate for me." I faced her again. "So? What were you thinking, Andi?"

"You like holding my hand."

I quickly turned back around lest she see the effect even thinking about holding her hand had on my body. "Yeah?" I croaked out. "So?"

"So, you like spending time with me even if you won't admit it."

"Get there faster, Andi."

"The list," Andi called out. "I think we should do some list-like activities. I wrote down all the honeymoon things I'd want to do if we were able to leave the country without going to prison."

I sighed. "Andi, we wouldn't go to prison."

"I would die in prison. I'm too pretty."

"And I'm what? The Hunchback of Notre Dame?"

I met her gaze again.

She tilted her head. A small smile formed across her lips. "You do have horrible posture."

"Do not," I argued, straightening my back.

"Do too." Her grin widened. "You'll probably be one of those crotchety old men that can't look past a woman's breasts because he can't lift his head. I can see it now.
'Bring me more pasta!'"

"Wait, what?" I turned off the shower. "Why am I yelling for pasta?"

She shrugged. "Just seems like something your grumpy ass would say."

"Your opinion of me needs work."

"Maybe you should be nicer, and my opinion would be higher."

"I bought you ice cream."

"After yelling at me." She tossed me a white fluffy towel then pointed at my side tattoo. "Hey, what's that?"

I slapped her hand away and turned so she couldn't see the markings then wrapped the towel around my waist. "Okay, so you want to… what? Have sex fifteen times?"

She was still trying to peer around me. "I wrote it fifteen times because I figured we'd be on a honeymoon for seven days — that's sex twice a day plus a bonus round."

I walked past her, steam billowing off my body. "Sweetheart, you don't plan sex."

"Well…" She crossed her arms. "…I do."

I leaned against the countertop. "So that's it? You're propositioning me?"

"Nope, I picked out a few other things on the list." She slid it across the granite counter and leaned her hip next to my body. "Read."

"So demanding."

"I'll go get my pot and wood stick."

"Reading," I grumbled.

"Pet a giraffe?" I said aloud. "What the hell?"

Andi shrugged and examined her fingers. "Sergio, if we were going on an African safari, I'd get to see a damn giraffe."

"And you want to see a giraffe because?"

"They're tall."

I fought for control over my temper. "That's it? Because they're tall?"

She nodded.

"Fine, can we just paint Tex to look like a giraffe and give you a paintball gun so it's like a real safari?"

Andi tapped her chin. "That may work. Hey, you're useful after all!"

I kept reading. "I hate hippos."

"Well, that's unfair." Andi started wiping off the mirror with a fresh towel then tossed me my deodorant. "Have you ever even met a hippo?"

"If I had, I wouldn't be standing here."

"Oh, please," She waved me off. "You'd be fine, flesh wound, nothing more."

"They drown people!" My voice rose an octave. "Because they can!"

"Details."

I huffed while I applied the deodorant, then tossed it back at her and walked toward my large closet.

"Next!" She clapped her hands and shoved past me into the closet and began frantically looking through my designer jeans.

I paused and looked at the honeymoon wish list. "Sharks? You want to swim with sharks?"

She nodded but didn't turn around; instead, a pair of jeans went flying through the air, nearly hitting me in the face.

I caught them just in time. "How about I take you fishing, and we can pretend there are sharks, or better yet, I get a blow-up shark toy and put it in the pool out back?"

"Hmm…" A sweater sailed over my head. "…I may agree to those terms as long as you put on the
Jaws
theme song."

"I'll hum it."

She stood to her full height and laughed. "Such a good sport."

"Right. That's what I'm being — a good sport. I figure if I don't at least try to make you happy, you're going to make my life hell then shoot me in my sleep."

"The idea has merit."

"See?"

"Wear those." She pointed to the clothes she'd tossed onto the floor. "And I really like the new boots you bought online a few days ago."

"You read my mail, don't you?"

"Can I have a credit card with no limit?" she asked, ignoring my question but actually answering it, considering she'd probably seen my credit card statement.

"Sure… can you stop waking me up with your pot-and-pan trick?"

"Ohh… he drives a tough bargain."

"I'll give if you do." I picked the clothes off the floor and approached her. "What do you say?"

"I say…" She eyed the list in my hand. "…give me one thing on the list today, and you have a deal."

I glanced back down at the list. She wanted to go on a foxhunt, whatever the hell that was. An idea popped into my head. "Fine, go change into something you can move in."

"Really?" She squealed.

Her excitement was this tangible real thing, almost like I could taste it in the air. I fought to keep myself from catching her enthusiasm. "Really."

"You're the best husband ever!" Her hand reached for my towel. She tugged. The towel fell.

I scowled but had nothing to hide.

Her hand moved to my hip, and then her fingertips grazed my abs. "You sure you don't want to work on those other fifteen options?"

My body said yes.

Her eyebrows arched in… ah, there it was, not necessarily wonderment, but I could tell she was at least semi-impressed by the way she licked her lips.

My body was on board, but every other part of me said no — that it would be the final straw, that I'd fall and have no hope of ever being the same again. I took a step back.

She pouted, but her eyes drank their fill. "Fine, but one day I'm going to stop asking, and where's that going to leave you?"

"Rhetorical question?"

"Food for thought." She winked. "I'm going to get ready. Hurry up! Don't want to be late for our first adventure."

She skipped out of the room.

Leaving me in silence, in my giant closet.

Her presence was like the sun, making everything seem brighter, happier. I hadn't realized until that day how boring and dark my life had become.

But that was what happened when you actually experienced life through someone else; you realized what you've been doing wasn't living, but existing.

And I had a sinking feeling that my existence would miss hers even now… after only knowing her for a week.