Garrett (11 page)

Challenge flashes in Garrett’s eyes and he turns on the bed to lean down over my face. Pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth, he pulls back just a tad and says, “I can handle bruises, but I just don’t like seeing your beautiful skin marked up. I don’t like to think of you hurting.”

Warmth and tenderness flood through me over his words, and I’m perilously close to spilling the beans about my cancer. Instead, I shore up and try to redirect him. “Sorry if my body disgusts you.”

Garrett glares at me in annoyance. “Your body could never disgust me. It’s spectacular, and a few bruises don’t change that. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

I give him a calm smile. “I swear, I’m fine. Nothing a little bit of iron won’t help sort out. Now…if you’re done examining me, Doctor, I believe you mentioned something about fucking me from behind.”

Nostrils flaring and eyes heating in desire, a slow, delicious curve of Garrett’s lips forms on his beautiful face. He licks his bottom lip. “Yeah…I’m going to fuck you really good from behind.”

Then bruises and cancer and favorite candies are once again forgotten. While I settle back down on my stomach, Garrett focuses his exploration between my legs. His fingers delve into me, spreading my wetness around and massaging me from the inside out until I’m almost delirious with need.

I hear the rip of the condom foil and then he’s positioning himself behind me. Gently raising my hips, he presses his lips over the bruise on my hip in a move that provokes more tender feelings to erupt within me.

And then he’s inside me…moving slowly at first, but quickly building up to a ferocious tempo that has me moaning and cursing for relief. True to his word, Garrett grabs ahold of my long braids, pulling them behind me and forcing my head to turn to the side. He leans over my back, his thrusts going shallow from this angle, and kisses me deeply.

He rides me hard, the sound of our slapping skin and lusty groans filling the air around us. I peak and crest, then start to fall just as Garrett explodes inside me.

Moments later, he has me on my side and pulled into the curve of his body. His arms hold me tight and he nuzzles his face in my hair.

“You are amazing,” he says. “Absolutely amazing.”

“You are too,” I whisper back, and I’m sad that once we close our eyes and go to sleep, our time together is coming to an end.

Grabbing the bag that holds some cans of chicken noodle soup, I get out of my car and peer up at Olivia’s apartment. I can’t believe in the span of just three days, I’ve apparently gone from philandering playboy to bringing soup to my sick girlfriend.

Okay, correction…she’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a woman who I very much like, very much love fucking, and can’t seem to stay away from.

When I woke up this morning, Olivia was gone, and it left me feeling restless and irritated. Even her perky little note that said
Had a great time last night. Thanks so much
left a bad taste in my mouth. It felt almost final, and while I hadn’t thought much about it last night when I drifted off to sleep, her body pressed in warmly against mine, I certainly woke up this morning wanting to see more of Olivia. In fact, I had planned on asking her to come watch the scrimmage game we had this afternoon, and maybe catching an early dinner after.

But she was gone, and I was befuddled.

So, I did what no one would have ever expected me to do. I texted her like a foolish, lovestruck boy.

Hey. Great time last night too. Any interest in coming to see my scrimmage game? Maybe dinner after?

She didn’t respond and I was left scratching my head. Women just didn’t ignore me. They were usually falling all over themselves to have a bit of my attention.

So I stewed and pondered, and wondered if something happened last night that maybe gave her the impression I was done with her. I mean…she knew about my ways. She knew that I wasn’t a member of the monogamy club, and I had even told her that three dates was my limit. Did she take that seriously? Is she ignoring me because she thinks that’s what I want right now?

I got in a light workout, choosing to do only a short run and lay off the weights today so I could conserve my gas for the scrimmage. Just as I was packing up to leave my house and head over to the arena for the game, I decided to text Olivia one more time. Maybe she had just been busy and forgotten to text me back.

Hey. Everything okay? Haven’t heard back from you.

She responded almost immediately.
Sorry. Not feeling well. So, scrimmage and dinner out…Maybe in a few days?

The heavy feeling in my chest I’d been sporting most of the day suddenly eased, and I was almost jubilant to know that she wasn’t avoiding me. At least…I don’t think she is. That could still be a brush-off, but I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt.

I texted her back.
Sure. Feel better and talk soon.

Feeling immensely relieved about the Olivia situation, I went on over to the arena and ended up having a fantastic game. I got paired up on the same line as Alex, which is what we normally play during the regular season, and we killed it. He got a goal and I got two assists.

By the time I walked out of the arena with my duffel bag slung over my shoulder, I had come up with the absolutely brilliant plan to go see how Olivia was doing. So I stopped at the grocery store and got some chicken noodle soup, because that’s what you’re supposed to eat when you’re sick, right?

But now, standing here at her apartment building, I’m having all sorts of doubts. A slight panicky feeling settles low in my chest, and I feel like a fool for coming over here. I don’t do this type of stuff. I have no clue how to take care of someone who’s sick, and I’ve certainly never wanted to do that before. Hell…I’ve never even really wanted to have that much of a conversation with a woman. Wasn’t high on my agenda.

But, yeah…deep down, I really do want to see if Olivia is okay, and for some weird reason, I sort of want her to want me to take care of her. So I push the unease aside and head up to her apartment.

I knock on the door softly and can hear footsteps approach the door.

When it opens…holy shit, she doesn’t look good. She’s got a big, fluffy robe wrapped tight around her and her hands clutch at the neckline, pulling it even tighter, as if she’s freezing. Her skin is pale and sweaty, and she looks just miserable.

“What are you doing here?” she asks softly.

I hold up the grocery bag. “Brought you some soup. Thought I’d check in on you and see if you need anything.”

Her eyes are dull as she stares at me. “Um…thanks, but I’m fine, really. I’m just going to get in bed and try to get some sleep, so you should probably go.”

“Okay,” I say tenuously, a little hurt by the fact she doesn’t seem to need anything from me. “Call you later?”

She gives me a wan smile and nods. I lean in to give her a kiss on her forehead, but before my lips can even touch her skin, she makes a gagging sound and spins away from me. I watch as she lurches down her short hallway and practically throws herself into the bathroom. Retching noises filter out and my legs involuntarily move in that direction.

As I round the corner, Olivia is kneeling on the floor, hunched over the toilet. She’s bracing herself with one hand and with the other she holds her long hair to the side so it doesn’t drop down into the bowl. I watch as she heaves and hurls, but nothing comes up. Nothing but a terrible gagging sound as she tries to purge something from her stomach that’s just not there.

I step into the bathroom and squat down on my haunches beside her. I carefully gather the hair away from her and hold it out of the way, my other hand coming to rest on her upper back, where I stroke her gently. She continues to gag into the bowl for a few minutes, and then finally it subsides.

Olivia slumps down onto her butt, her legs curled up underneath of her, and leans back against the tub. She rests her head on the edge and her eyes squeeze shut while she takes shallow breaths. I stand up and grab a washcloth that’s hanging on a little bar to the right of the sink. I soak it under cold water and wring it out. I remember my mom doing this for me when I was sick, and the coolness always felt good.

Turning, I squat back down in front of Olivia and press the wet cloth to her forehead. She sighs in relief and murmurs, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” I tell her, and then try to lighten the mood. “That was quite a show you put on for me.”

She rewards me with a tired smile. “Yeah…well, that’s why I was trying to push you out the door. I didn’t want you to see that.”

“Stomach bug?” I ask her.

“Something like that,” she mutters, and casts her gaze down to the floor.

Lifting a hand up, I touch her cheek and find it hot to the touch. Really hot. “I think you have a fever, Olivia. And based on how badly you’re trying to throw up, maybe you have the flu or something.”

“It’s not flu season,” she says dismissively. “But I’ll be fine. I’m sure this will pass soon.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not so sure. While I think you are like the hottest woman I’ve ever known, frankly…you look like death warmed over right now. I think you should go to a doctor.”

“No, I’m good.”

“You’re not good, Olivia,” I say in frustration, and I reach a hand out to her. “Come on. Let’s get you up and dressed and I’ll take you myself.”

“I’m not going to a damned doctor,” she grits out, grabbing the cloth from my hand and curling it in her fist.

“Yes, you are, stubborn girl. I bet you have the flu,” I say confidently, digging this new role of coddler and worrywart. I take her hand so I can get her up, but she jerks away from me.

“It’s not the fucking flu,” she snarls, and I flinch slightly from the anger in her voice.

“Olivia…babe…you’re sick,” I say gently…soothingly. “Let me do something to help.”

“You can’t help me,” she says, her voice broken and sad. Her eyes raise to mine and I see misery there.

Tilting my head, I give her a reassuring smile. “Oh, yeah?…Why can’t I help you?”

She takes a deep breath in and blows it out forcefully. Her voice is tired and resigned when she says, “Because I have cancer, Garrett. I’m sick today because I had my first chemotherapy appointment this morning, and I’m sick from that.”

Her words physically punch into me, and I fall backward on my butt…every bit of strength in my legs suddenly disappearing. My jaw drops while my hands weakly support my weight on the tiled floor. I look at her in disbelief. “Cancer?”

“Yes…cancer,” she says resolutely.

We sit in her bathroom and stare at each other for a long moment. I feel sick to my stomach, and I feel…terrified. I feel anger as well…that I’m just now finding out about this.

“I don’t understand,” I say slowly.

Because I’m confused as fuck.

“I have a lymphoma cancer. Follicular B-cell lymphoma, to be exact. I was diagnosed just a few days before we met. I had my first oncology appointment the morning of our first date. Today was my first chemo. It’s all happening so fast.”

Understanding starts to dawn on me. “The bruises.”

“I’m a bit anemic as well. I honestly don’t know why that’s happening. I’ve had a million questions and never can seem to remember them all when I’m at the doctor’s.”

“The bruise and cut on your hip?”

“Bone-marrow biopsy yesterday morning,” she says softly.

“Jesus Christ, Olivia,” I say angrily. “You let me manhandle you…fuck you hard, when you’d had that done to your body?”

Her eyes flash at me hotly and she opens her mouth up, I’m betting to tear me a new one, but then her eyes roll backward and her hand flies to her mouth. She lurches up off the floor and hurls herself at the toilet again.

I immediately scramble up and grab her hair out of the way, wrapping my other arm around her waist to hold her up as she gags into the toilet. Again, nothing comes out, and she continues dry-heaving for a while.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “Have you been sick all day?”

She shakes her head. “No…started a few hours ago. They gave me some pills to take, but I threw them up.”

Olivia continues to retch and I hold her through it. When she’s done, I help her stand on shaky legs. “Let’s get you in the bed.”

She nods and pushes past me to walk out the bathroom door on her own, clearly letting me know she still has some gas in her. I have a feeling Olivia doesn’t like to feel weak and helpless. Which is funny…because that’s exactly how I feel right now.

I follow her back to her bedroom and she crawls into bed. I pull the covers up over her and my gaze falls on a prescription bottle on her nightstand next to a big bottle of Gatorade.

“Are these the pills that are supposed to stop the nausea?”

She nods at me.

“Can you try to take another dose?”

“Yeah…the other ones came up whole. But I’m pretty sure these are going to come up too.”

“Let’s just try,” I say reassuringly as I sit on the edge of her bed. I read the prescription bottle and shake out the dosage. I hand them to her and then unscrew the cap from the Gatorade. Handing it to her, I say, “Take just a few small sips with the pills. Give your stomach a chance to handle it.”

She takes a tiny sip of the liquid to wash the pills down and lies back on her pillow with her eyes closed. My fingers come up, my hand shaking slightly, and I smooth them over her forehead.

“What does this all mean?” I ask hesitantly.

Her eyes open and she stares at me with a confidence that shocks me to my core. “I don’t know what any of it means, but I’m sure as fuck not going to let this beat me.”

My lips twitch, wanting to smile at her sass, but I’m still filled with too much terror right now. “We’ll talk about this later,” I tell her gently. “Right now…think you can get some sleep?”

“Yeah,” she says with a small smile. “I’m pretty wiped out.”

I stand up from her bed and watch as she turns on her side, curling one arm up under her pillow. She looks so small and frail right now, which causes anger to surge inside me. Why does this happen to someone like to Olivia? Especially when I just found her?

Olivia closes her eyes and I turn to walk out of her bedroom.

“Garrett?”

Turning to look back at Olivia, I find her watching me with heavy eyes. “Thank you. I didn’t want you to see this. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s okay,” I murmur, but nothing about this is okay. I’m not sure how it can be. “Just get some rest.”

My instinct is to flee. Just this morning, I had convinced myself that Olivia was the woman who I could take a chance on. I had stupid thoughts of hanging out with her, going on adventures, her coming to my games, and me sinking into her body every night. I was actually a bit juiced up thinking that it could be a hell of a lot of fun to get to know her…to have a relationship with her.

But now that all seems to be coated in bitter ash and I can’t really see past the fact that she’s lying in bed sick, and I have no clue how to handle it.

Is this going to kill her? Am I getting involved with a woman who could die?

I have no answers, and that just pisses me off more.

As I let myself out of Olivia’s apartment, I pull my phone out of my pocket and flip through my contacts so I can dial up our team’s orthopedic doctor, Mark Godson. He’s a pretty cool guy…nursed me through a wrist sprain late in this past season, and we’ve become friends.

He answers on the third ring. “What’s up, Garrett?”

“I need some information on cancer,” I tell him.

“Yeah…well, in case you forgot, I’m an orthopedic doctor,” he says with a laugh.

I’m not in a fucking joking mood. “Just get me someone that can answer some questions for me,” I snarl into the phone. “And the sooner the better.”

Mark’s voice softens. “Yeah…sure. No problem. A buddy of mine practices oncology. I’ll have him call you. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine…a friend of mine, not so much.”

“When do you want him to contact you?” he asks.

“About five minutes ago. I’ll be waiting,” I say, and I disconnect the phone.

I try to get a handle on my emotions. But they are too thick for me to wade through them. I’m hoping this oncology doctor can at least educate me so I know what I’m dealing with, and until then, I have someone else I need to talk to that has some explaining to do.

I ring the doorbell, impatient, annoyed, and bristling with resentment. When the door swings open, Alex looks at me with joyful surprise. “What’s up, dude?”