Here & Now (11 page)

“I love you is what I want to hear most, but is it wrong that I want to hear him say my name too?”

“There’s nothing at all wrong with that. What girl doesn’t want to hear their boyfriend say both of those things? It’s natural Cadence. I would be worried if those things weren’t what you wanted to hear first.”

People think that just because I can’t hear that I’m unlike them. The things that the normal girls want and a lot of the things the ones that can hear take for granted, I can’t possibly want and need because I’m not like them. Hearing Pam tell me just how normal my wants are, it empowers me even more.

I was like every other person that deals with a disability or setback that doesn’t follow a perceived norm. I had stages where I wondered why I was this way and what kind of god could be so cruel to make my life harder than it should be. I even longed at one point to be like everyone else. The thing is, not hearing doesn’t make me wrong, it just makes me different and that’s okay.

I’m also one of the luckiest girls in the world because I’ve got the support of so many great people and really, that’s all that matters.

“Besides wanting to hear your boyfriend and even your mom and dad, what else do you look forward to?”

“Music. I love dancing even though a lot of people don’t understand how I could. When this works, I want to go and listen to the music, no matter what kind it is and just dance.”

“Are you sure that it doesn’t matter what kind of music you hear?” Pam questions me with a grin and it’s easy to see what she’s getting at. With my earlier statement about hearing Dillon, she’s no doubt taken the romantic route and imagined me dancing with him.

“Yes, it really doesn’t matter, but if you’re asking if I would want my first dance to be a slow one with Dillon, I won’t argue.”

After spending a couple of minutes laughing, the gears switch in the room and we’re right back in the more serious aspects of why I’m here. The other end of things. What would happen if things don’t work out and I’m still left unable to hear.

“I know that you’re choosing to look at the more positive aspect of the surgery, but when you’ve gotten time away from the rest of the world and their hopes, have you given any thought to what you’ll do if this doesn’t work out?”

“I have.”

“And what kinds of thoughts have you had about that?”

“It’s going to be the same, if not worse then what I would feel if I let the fear win and backed out of this again. It would hurt. I would feel like I was letting everybody down and I might even feel like I was a lost cause. Too broken to be fixed.”

I hate admitting this part. It’s all true what I’m telling her, but it’s not a place I like my mind to go. This is the last thing I want to think about even though I know nothing is a guarantee. There are risks in everything and sometimes, things don’t work out the way you want them to. I just really hope in this case that it does because that road, it’s not one I want to travel again.

Letting people down or at least feeling like I am, it’s a cycle I don’t want to repeat. I’ve done it before, every single time I’ve backed away from this out of fear. This time I want to do things differently even if in the end it doesn’t matter and I’m doomed to be this way forever.

It wasn’t a death sentence before and I don’t want to look at it like it is now, even though there’s a part of me, at least for a little while that knows I will.

“Those feelings are as natural as the ones you have regarding hearing your boyfriend for the first time. It’s okay to have them, but if you ever feel like it’s becoming too much, I want to you to come back and talk to me about it, alright? I don’t want you to bottle this up because you think you have to be strong for the people around you.”

“I won’t. I know better than to do that.”

“Our time is almost up, but I’ve got one more question for you Caddy.”

“Okay.”

“When you had the discussion with your boyfriend about the implants and made the decision to go through with it, did you also explain the risks to him? What would happen if this didn’t work out the way you both want it to?”

“He knows. He was at the appointment with me. There’s no secrets.”

“Do you think he’ll be able to handle it if it doesn’t work out?”

The answer to this a few weeks ago would have been hazy or as Dillon likes to say when he thinks about us, murky. I wasn’t sure about it, but after what we’ve shared, the long talks we’ve had about all of this coupled with the way I know he feels about me, I can answer it easily now.

“Yes. Dillon loves me. If it doesn’t work out, we’re gonna be just fine.”

Dillon

Pulling Mark aside when Coach finally tells us we’re done for the day, I lay out everything I’ve been dealing with for the past two weeks and his answer is simple. He’s got a way that we can deal with this without letting my coach or any of the other guys on the team know, and it’s one that won’t lose me any time on the field.

Cortisone shots.

It’s been used a ton of times, and it relieves the pain enough so I can still keep up the same level of play on the field and no one would be the wiser. It’s got a lot of coaches up in arms, but only because it’s controversial. He warned me about all of it, but all I heard was that it could help relieve the pain.

Right now, nothing matters more than that. I need to be playing. I’m in my element when I’m on the field and I don’t give a shit if there’s risks, I’ll deal with all of them, along with keeping my mouth shut as long as it keeps me playing.

The idea of taking a needle to the leg doesn’t exactly excite me, but when faced with the alternative, I’ve gotta see it through. The shot added to the brace he’s going to give me, it’s going to turn a disastrous situation around and make it damn near perfect.

Now all I need to do is get my focus back. Find a way to separate Cadence from what I need to do on the field and I’m gonna be golden.

“You got an aversion to needles?” Mark asks, bringing me back from thoughts of my girlfriend and back to the hard surface my ass is now planted on. “Allergies or anything I need to know about before we do this?”

“No. Not allergic to anything and don’t give a shit about needles. Had enough blood taken as a kid where I don’t even feel it anymore.”

High pain threshold. That’s what the doctors have called the way I react. I can take just about any level of pain you can dish out. Having shut myself down so tight emotionally for so long, it’s not shocking I’m able to do the same thing easily when it comes to physical pain and I get enough of it playing football.

“It’s gonna sting like fuck when I put it in, but it won’t last long.”

“How long until it takes effect?”

“Not long, a few minutes’ tops. Whatever’s going on in your knee, until you can get in and have it checked, this will keep you mobile.”

“And pain free, right?”

“Yeah, but remember, it’s only a smoke screen. It’s not gonna heal the damage.”

“Yeah, got it. Let’s just get this over with.”

I’m tired of talking about it. I know the risk Mark is taking even telling me about this at all, let alone actually shooting the shit into my leg. This could land him in some serious hot water with Coach and the school, the least of which would be losing his job. The way I figure it though, if he wants to keep it quiet, the faster he just does it and gets it over with the better.

Less risk of getting caught.

Making his way around, he kicks the wooden block out from under the door and waits until it’s shut before coming back over and picking the needle up off the tray. Tapping it a few times with his fingers, he throws a look my way. Motioning with my hand silently, urging him to just get on with it, he grips one hand around my leg and leans in close.

“Relax your leg, D. You’re too tense.”

Moving it, guided by the light taps he keeps leveling me with, I finally release the tension to the point where he’s ready and before I know it, I feel the sharp sting as the needle enters directly into the back of my knee.

He was right. There is a sharp pain, one I’m not familiar with feeling but it’s not strong enough to cause me grief. I’ve got this.

“Done. Now when you’re back on the field again, take it easy. Try not to make what’s already there any worse, but if it does happen to flare up, come see me. I’ll set you up with another dose.”

“Got it. Not planning on letting them get another shot at it.”

Sliding off the table and grabbing the brace off the chair, I head for the door, stopping only when my hand is gripped tightly around the handle.

“Thanks for this. You’re saving my ass.”

“No problem, just remember what I said. Not a word. This is some pretty serious shit.”

He doesn’t need to tell me twice. He’s not the only one with something to lose if what just happened gets out. I’ll lose my ticket out of here and playing where it really matters.

The CFL.

There’s no way in hell I’m gonna risk that. I’ve got everything I need right now and I’ve got no plans on giving a damn bit of it up.

Not ever.

Dillon

There’s definitely a downside to playing ball on the collegiate level and being asked to stay after class, the reason is about to be slammed straight home.

Learning. Keeping up not only with the action on the field, but also making the time every night to crack down and hit the books so you don’t find yourself out on your ass.

In high school, things were so fucking easy or at least they were for me and the people I called friends.

If you had money and it was well known, you could pretty much buy yourself out of any situation you wanted. You could pay other kids to do your homework, sometimes even ignoring it altogether until it was due. You could even bribe a few of the teachers. I shit you not, at Wexfield High, there were a couple of teachers more than willing to be paid off for their silence or even looking the other way.

It’s another reason it was so easy to bully the people we did. Not saying there was a damn thing right about it, but when there are adults that fear you added with the ones willing to look the other way just because of who your mommy or daddy are, it made things a whole lot easier.

Doing that same stupid shit here though? Definitely out of the question. With the look in his eyes, my professor is most definitely not pleased with my lack of caring where his class is concerned, and he’s not in the least bit afraid to let me know it.

It makes me miss Toronto a little bit more. Even though the city was hockey central, you could easily find the teachers that were more concerned with winning a game then they were your position in their class and I could definitely use some of that now.

“I am going to assume that wanting to meet with you like this isn’t coming as a surprise.”

“No sir.”

“Then it should also come as no surprise that your cavalier attitude has landed you at the bottom of the class and as such affects your eligibility to play on the football team.”

“Yeah, Coach said something to me about it yesterday after practice.”

“Have you been able to ascertain a way you might go about fixing that?”

“Yes sir. Coach told me that if I didn’t look into getting some help with the work, I wouldn’t be playing, so I’ve been looking into a couple of people that might be able to help.”

Bullshit comes easily to me, that’s another way I haven’t changed. It was obvious when I tried to use it on Cadence’s mom and it’s even more so now. If I can talk enough shit out my ass to get them off my back, I’m gonna do it. Reformed or not.

The only real truth to anything I just spouted off is that I did ask someone for help. The one person I know who’s ten times smarter than me and I can actually tolerate.

I asked Belle.

I’m not about to admit to the guy that she turned me down though.

“Well, given the severity of the situation, I do believe if you’re willing to do something to change it, I might be able to help you. Give you a few names of people that I have used in the past with fantastic results. Is that something you might be interested in, Mr. Murphy?”

God damnit. What is it with these people and calling me that? The fucker might be in prison but it doesn’t mean I gotta sit here and be okay with someone calling me a name reserved for my piece of shit father.  I don’t think there’s ever going to be a time where that’s gonna fly with me. It’s either Dillon, or Murphy. No damn mister needed.

“Of course. Lay them on me.”

He lifts a paper out of his bag and hands it over, which I can see as I take it is a list of five names, none familiar. At least none are until my eyes fall on the last one.

Isaac Crawford.

Despite going out of my way to distance myself from what happened a few months ago, there’s no denying the fact that me and this guy have history and none of it is good. I haven’t exactly interacted much with him, but even with my limited knowledge of the guy, it’s obvious he’s the only choice for me.

I don’t do well with letting people get close and not even tutoring is gonna change it. So Isaac it is.

“Can I ask you something, Professor Davis?”

“Of course.”

“Why is Isaac’s name on the list? You do realize the guy can’t speak right?”

Way to open your mouth and insert your foot, jackass. Special needs and differences don’t mean shit and you of all people should know it.

The verbal lashing I’m taking in my head is expected, but my question is still valid. I’ve got no doubt that Isaac is probably as smart as Belle, and I also know how bad I misjudged her when I spent all those years making her life miserable. I just don’t see how I’m supposed to get help from a guy that can’t even speak.

I’m acting like a first class jackass.

“His inability to communicate verbally has not presented a problem for me yet and I have been using him as a tutor since his arrival here. But if you feel as though he is not a viable option for you, there are four others.”

He’s not coming right out and saying it, but even he thinks I’m being an insensitive prick and he’s right. My girlfriend is deaf and somehow we still find ways to communicate, so reacting so badly toward this kid, it’s wrong.

I definitely need to pull my head out of my ass.

“No, it’s cool. I guess I just wasn’t sure how it all worked.”

“If Isaac is someone you are seriously considering, I can guarantee that with his guidance, you could easily pull yourself back up to manageable place in my class. Text him, let him know that you got his name from me and take it from there.”

Nodding my acceptance, I fold the paper in my hands and slip it into the back pocket of my jeans. I’m definitely going to break it out later and text Isaac to set something up, but for now, it has to wait.

I have somewhere more important I need to be and now that class is done, and there’s no practice from hell looming on the horizon, nothing is going to keep me from it. It’s been too damn long already.

Tonight, I’m gonna enjoy a movie night with my girlfriend.

Cadence

“Come on! Please? You’re so much smarter than me.”

“Which is exactly why I can’t do it and I don’t care how sexy you look when you beg.”

He grins when I call him sexy, but the pleading look is still there in his eyes, making him a lot more irresistible then I want to admit. If he knew how close he is to breaking me down, he’d never let up.

It’s been like this since he got here a half hour ago. After spending some time going through my DVD collection, more than a little upset at how truthful I was about the sickening amount of romantic comedies my mom owns, he flipped gears and tried begging me for my help, before flat out asking me to do it for him.

Dillon hates anything that’s not me, his friends or football and I knew it was only a matter of time before he tried getting me to help. I could easily sit down and work on the stuff he’s told me he’s behind in, but that wouldn’t help him. It would just cause more problems.

If he’s serious about going to school, he’s gonna have to suck it up and deal with it himself. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is with my own work and the load of it I’m going to have after the surgery.

“You think I’m sexy?” He asks before leaning in and nuzzling his face into my neck, turning up the heat in my body a few hundred degrees. This is another noticeable change since we slept together. Every touch, no matter how small, is heightened and once it happens, everything else fades away and all I’m able to focus on is what I can do to make him continue it.

“You know I do, so stop pretending it’s a bombshell.”

Pulling back just enough for me to be able to see his lips, focus on the way they curve up and how just the smallest lift to them seems to change his entire face, I sigh. Every single time I get to look at Dillon this way, it’s exactly like the first time all over again.

“Your mom isn’t gonna be home for another hour, so how about you show me how sexy I am?”

“Not enough time.”

“Since when?”

After our talk last week, my mom has been backing off a bit, giving Dillon and I time alone where before she always seemed to be around every corner waiting for the right moment to interrupt. We’ve taken advantage of it of course, the hour before she gets home from work or when she’s out running errands, but as awesome as it’s been, it’s not enough. At least it’s not for me.

“I want more than an hour with you.”

“Well, the feeling is mutual baby, but unless we can talk her into letting you come back to Kayden’s overnight, I don’t see that happening any time soon.”

That won’t happen. She’s been pretty lenient lately, letting Dillon stay an extra hour over what he used to when we’re hanging out together, but an all-nighter is out of the question. I might have the best mom in the world, but she’s still a mom and she’s not going to willing promote me having sex.

“Maybe I should just do your homework for you.”

His eyes lift, the prospect of me coming to his rescue and keeping him stay on the team enough to cause a stir, but that’s not at all what he focuses on when he speaks again.

“Or,” he suggests with a sly grin. “We could stay right where we are and I could just spend the next hour showing my girl how much I love the way she tastes.”

There’s got to be something seriously wrong with me. Just the thought of kissing Dillon for the next hour is enough to send my already over the top hormones through the roof. It’s almost like it’s the summer and we’re at the carnival again, him walking up to the strongman machine and smashing the hammer down until the weight lifts up and slams right into the top. His words are turning me on so much I can barely think straight, much less breathe.

I really need to find a way to get unlimited time alone with him soon, or the volcano of need inside me is going to burst and it’s not going to be pretty.

“Dill?”

“Yeah baby?”

“Less talk, more action.”

His body is leaning back into the sofa within seconds, pulling mine over until my knees are resting comfortably on top of him. His lips crashing onto mine, nipping at them with his teeth before his tongue moves forward and pushes itself deeply into my mouth, while his hands slide up into my hair and grip on tighter the deeper he drives himself into me.

With our tongues swirling, our breathing erratic and completely out of sync, my hands move quick, touching every part of his body I can get access too, making quick work of the clothing that’s between us until they’re resting comfortably on the hot skin underneath. A growl emanating from his chest the minute my hands make contact.

“Fuck Caddy. Let me take you upstairs.”

My body, with a mind of its own is screaming at me to give him his way, pushing even closer into his and my need, it mirrors his as another vibration erupts from the place where my hands rest on his chest.

What I wouldn’t give right now to hear the sound of Dillon when he’s on the brink of losing control.

Shaking my head, not wanting to move an inch, I grip my hands around his shirt and I pull, making sure I’m leaving no room for doubt about where things are about to go. Sliding his hands out of my hair, he meets them and pulls his shirt the rest of the way off, exposing his bare chest, giving me permission with the look in his eyes, to touch every part of it.

Lifting my own shirt up and over my head quickly, he leans me back flat on the sofa before sliding his body down, his hands reaching out and popping the button on my jeans, making quick work of sliding them off until I see them come out around him and down to the floor.

Catching his lips as they start to move, I shake my head immediately, not wanting him to finish what he’s asking. We’re in too deep now, I want him too badly. There is no way in hell I’m giving him what he’s asking me for.

“Caddy,” he says, repeating my name again. “Tell me to stop.”

I imagine the way his words would sound, the need in them, how forced and rough they would be, the obvious desire he has for me written all over his face and hard as hell to contain. I am definitely not telling him to stop, but he can ask me for it as much as he wants with how hot it makes me.

“No.”

I feel the heat from his exhale across my face and looking up am met with him shutting his eyes forcefully, an attempt at swallowing something down, but confused as to what.

“”I need…” he says, his lips closing tight, his eyes sinking in even more. “I need to be inside you. I need to
feel
you.”

I don’t argue. I know I probably should with what I told him not a few minutes ago, but I can’t. I want the same things as him. As badly as he needs to connect with me, I need the same with him too. It’s a need only him being inside me can fix, or at least tame in the moment.

His fingers brush against my thigh, one slipping in on either side until he’s hooked them around the edges of my panties, moving his body off mine only long enough to slide them down completely and begin taking his boxers off.

Dillon’s eyes veer away, over the side of the sofa to the floor and before I can lean my body up, see what he’s seeing, he turns back and gives me the answers I crave.