Pretending She's His: A Hard Feelings Novella (10 page)

Then she shuddered.

She came around him hard, her moans absorbing his grunts as he pumped his release in unison with her own.

He relinquished his grip on her hair and her head dropped between her shoulders. Holding onto her hip, he slowed the beat of their connecting bodies, bringing her back down.

Once he eased out of her, she collapsed onto the bed—worn out and satisfied. Leaning down, he kissed the smooth sweet skin on her hip, then scattered a few kisses over her pink ass.

Sighing, she curled up on her side and he slid in behind her.

He kissed the back of her neck. “Even better than I imagined, Red,” he whispered into her hair.

She didn’t respond, she just wedged herself in tightly to him. Tomorrow he was heading back to Fort Drum. Tonight was fucking bittersweet. He’d finally got a taste of this fiery redhead that he had been craving for years. And he was pretty sure he was only getting this one little sample. Their weekend of pretending was over. Too damn bad he hadn’t been pretending the whole fucking time.

Chapter Twelve

Trevor was startled awake by the sound of his phone ringing. It was four thirty in the morning, and the only time he got calls this early was on the rare occasion he was late for PT, or if something was wrong. Considering it was Sunday, he didn’t have the best feeling.

Quickly, he stumbled out of bed and fished for his phone, which was ringing from somewhere in his suitcase. Picking it up, he pressed the little green answer button and held it to his ear.

“Hello,” he said, his voice deep and raspy from a hard sleep.

“Trevor,” a voice choked out.

“Mom?” He started moving. Pinning the phone to his ear with his shoulder, he snatched his boxers from the floor and yanked them on. “Mom?” he repeated. He could hear her sniffling on the other end of the phone, and his heart sank to his stomach at the same time it seemed to lodge in his throat. “Mom, what’s wrong? Is it Dad?”

Eva shifted on the bed, her eyes fluttering open and landing directly on him. He must have had a look from hell molded into his expression, because she jerked from bed almost as quickly as he had.

“Yes, it’s Dad,” she finally answered.

“What is it?” He pulled on his gym shorts and zipped up his suitcase.

“He’s in the hospital, Trevor. It’s bad. Really bad.”

“God dammit,” he shouted, feeling the need to throw his phone or punch the wall—anything to release the fear that was molding into anger.

“I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone and grabbed his keys and wallet off the nightstand.

“What’s wrong?” Eva asked.

He turned around to face her knowing good and well he was on the verge of breaking, but when he saw her face flash with concern and fear, he slipped over that small ledge he was clinging to and shattered.

“My Dad’s dying.” Saying the words made them register.

“Oh my God, Trev.” Eva jumped off the bed and threw her arms around his waist. He wrapped her up in his arms and let her assimilate some of his grief. He wanted to hold her until the sun came up. He didn’t want this weekend with her to end. It felt like the last few days never really happened. He woke up and reality kicked him in the fucking balls.

Eva wasn’t his and she never would be.

And his dad was dying.

“I’ve gotta go, Red,” he said against her hair as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“I’ll walk you out.”

“No,” he protested. “Go back to bed. I’ll be fine.”

Fact of the matter was, he didn’t know how much longer he could pretend to be fine.

***

“What?” Meagan sobbed. “Did he say how serious the situation was? What did his mom say?”

Eva’s foot pressed down on the accelerator, increasing her speed. “I don’t know,” Eva admitted. She had left the cabin shortly after Trevor and debated calling and waking Meagan up so early, but Meagan was Trevor’s best friend since he was a kid. She had to call her. “He left in such a hurry that I didn’t get any information from him. He was a wreck, though, Meggy. I’ve never seen him look defeated like that before.”

“Fuck,” she spat. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later. I’ve gotta call him.”

“Okay,” Eva said before the line went dead. She felt about as useful as a round of a cartridge full of blanks.

***

Opening the door to her apartment, Eva was surprised to see Meagan lying down on the chaise part of the sectional. Meagan still had the key to the apartment that Eva had shared with her up until a few weeks ago when Reed bought a house and she started moving some things into their new place.

“What are you doing here?”

“I talked to Trevor.”

“He okay? How’s his dad?” Eva asked, walking into the living room and setting her bags down.

“The tumor has spread, it’s pressing on his medial temporal lobe. His memory is deteriorating, along with the blood supply to his brain. He’s in a lot of pain, babe. Trevor’s worried he won’t hold on much longer.”

Tears formed at the back of Eva’s eyes. She had never met Trevor’s parents, but Meagan had always spoken highly of them. She’d known them growing up; they were like second parents to her.

Eva’s heart broke a little for Trevor in that moment. He was alone. No siblings to endure the weight of the grief that he was concealing. It was just him and his mom.

“What can we do?” Eva asked. She wasn’t as close to him as Meagan was, but she’d grown to care about him over the years. And after last night . . .

Meagan looked down at her large pregnant belly then back to Eva. “I can’t do anything.”

“No, you can’t, but I can,” she said picking up her bags and heading toward her room. Meagan stood and followed her.

Lifting her suitcase onto her bed, she emptied all her clothes before walking to her closet to grab more.

“What are you doing?” Meagan asked, leaning against the door frame, her arms resting on top of her belly.

“I’m going to him,” she replied as if the answer should have been obvious.

Eva looked over her shoulder to see Meagan smiling. “Good,” she said with a little too much pep in her voice given the current situation. “Reed already bought you a plane ticket, it leaves in two hours.”

“Figured I would be going?”

“I had hoped,” she replied. “He needs you, Eva.”

“I know.”

Trevor would do anything for her and Meagan. He had proved that time and time again. And she cared about him. More now than she ever had before, and she wanted to be there for him. But a part of her was afraid. What if things were awkward between them? What if they couldn’t get back what they had before? What if he didn’t want her there?

Her head was on repeat, shuffling around the same questions over and over again in her mind as she zipped up her suitcase and headed for the shower.

She would find out soon enough.

Chapter Eight

Trevor pulled into the parking lot of Baptist Memorial Hospital right before noon. Nerves set in as he stepped out of his truck, slamming the door behind him.

He wasn’t ready to see his dad the way he knew he was going to see him. Weak. Frail. Old. Dying. He wasn’t ready to admit that his hero, the man he looked up to, was closing in on his time in this world. How did someone cope with the loss of a parent? It was a love like no other. His father was the center of every childhood memory he had, the gravitational pull to his entire existence. You were born into this world knowing nothing other than the love of the people who cared for you. You knew nothing about the world, or life, or the death that inevitably followed. You only knew love. It was your parents’ job to expand that love and keep it sacred. It was the same love that you would also leave the world with. And he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. He wasn’t ready for a piece of him to be taken with the death of his father.

Walking through the sterile hospital, stopping only to ask the nurse which room his dad was in, he made his way down the cold, unforgiving hall of the cancer center.

He knocked on his dad’s door and heard the sound of his mother’s voice telling him to come in.

An ache spread through his chest like a spider’s web around his heart. His dad was sleeping, his mother was sitting in the chair next to the hospital bed holding his hand. Had he not seen the faint and subtle movement of his father’s chest, he would have assumed he was too late.

“How’s he doin’?” he asked his mom as he walked to her and kissed the top of her head, hugging her shoulders from behind.

“The pain from his headaches is under control now.” Her voice cracked. “But he’s barely with us anymore, Trevor. Some days he doesn’t recognize me at all,” she sobbed.

Movement on the bed caused him to shift his focus from his broken mom. His dad’s eyes slowly opened and a smiled took over his thin face.

“Hi, son.” His voice was weak, exhausted, and slurred from his medication, but he knew who Trevor was—he was with them. Thank God. He felt the urge to drop to his knees and bow his head and thank his maker for giving him this day with his father. The entire ride to the hospital he prayed that his dad would recognize him, that his dad knew he was his son.

Closing his eyes briefly, Trevor sent up another silent prayer.

“Hey, old man, you look like shit,” he said, leaning down and hugging his dad as hard as he possible could without hurting him. The spider web grew . . .

“I’m supposed to look like shit, what’s your excuse?”

“I have none.” He laughed. But it was a brittle sound.

A knock on the door stole all of their attention. He hoped it was the doctor. Trevor had a lot of questions he wanted to ask.

But the face he saw when that door opened was
more
than he could have hoped for.

His mouth parted slightly into a slow smile as Eva walked into the room.

“Hey, Red. What’re you doin’ here?” he asked, shocked, crossing the room to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said shyly—a sound he was unfamiliar with. “I hope I’m not intruding, I . . . I—” she stumbled over her words as she fidgeted with her hands. He didn’t know how to wrap his head around her behavior. This was not the Eva he knew. She was never intimidated or nervous. She grabbed life by the balls and told it to go to hell if it didn’t do what she wanted. God, he hoped she wasn’t acting like this because of last night. He hoped like hell she didn’t regret what went on between them.

“I . . . wanted to make sure you were okay,” she finally said. When he smiled at her it seemed to ease whatever the hell had her worked up in the first place and he relaxed a little. “Plus, I thought this would be a good chance to meet the man who taught Meagan to shoot a rifle and who let her have her first shot of tequila.”

Everyone laughed. His mom threw back her head and rang out a sound that soothed a sorrow he hadn’t realized he had in his heart. His dad chuckled at the memory, his thin body shaking from laughter. And Trevor laughed not only at the memory, but because this woman next to him was the one who came to his rescue when he didn’t even fucking realize he needed rescuing.

“You know, her dad about kicked my sorry ass when he found out his little girl shot a weapon. We never did tell him about the tequila, though, best to keep that one between us, young lady,” his dad teased.

She smiled her true Eva smile, all previous nerves gone. “My lips are sealed,” she said, moving her fingers from one side of her mouth to the other.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Trevor whispered.

***

Walking into that room was probably the ballsiest thing Eva had ever done. Who the hell did she think she was coming to the hospital to see a man she had never met and to comfort a man she didn’t know how she felt about?

Then she looked at Trevor, the man who had more tricks up his sleeve than a clown at the circus, and he was grasping at straws. He had nothing. The ease he always carried was drained from his face, and the elation she had just witnessed only twelve hours ago had evaporated. He was hurting.

Without a second thought, she leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist, molding her body to his side and resting her head on his chest. She offered him comfort. It’s what she came to do. It’s what she would have done even if the last seventy-two hours never happened. Trevor was her friend. She would always be there for him.

The hard muscles of his body relaxed against her, at least a little of the proverbial weight lifting from his shoulders as he leaned into her. His arms wrapped around her and he held her close, clinging to her like a life support. His lips pressed against the top of her head and he kissed her quickly. “Thanks,” he whispered.

She looked up at him and winked. “Anytime, Trev.”

“Well, it’s about damn time, son,” his dad said. They both looked at him in confusion.

“For what, Dad?” Trevor asked narrowing his eyes, a puzzled look taking over his expression.

“It’s about damn time you picked one woman. I never thought I’d live to see the day that my son would finally settle down and choose a woman. And I have to say, she’s awful pretty,” he winked at her, and she knew where Trevor had gotten the gesture from. “This one will keep you on your toes, son. I can already tell that much about her.” He lifted his hand, motioning for Eva to come to him.

She looked at Trevor. He always knew when to bail her out, he always could read when it was time for him to swoop in and save the day—but the look on his face was lost. Somewhere in between the truth and the lie. His dad thought Eva was Trevor’s girlfriend—and he was happy. He obviously knew his son’s bedroom preference of multiple guests.

Trevor dropped his arms from her, giving her the nonverbal cue to go to his dad. She made quick work of her feet, crossing the small distance to the bed, and taking his outstretched hand in hers.

He tugged on her hand, pulling her down in a hug—another thing Trevor had gotten from his dad. “I’m so happy he finally has a woman to love,” he whispered in her ear as he held her in a tight embrace. “We Owens men are hard to break, but once we do—it’s forever. You take good care of my son for me, will ya?”

Eva didn’t know this man yet he had the ability to bring her to a sopping mess in the matter of thirty seconds with just few words. Words were lodged in her throat, strangled by the tears that were now streaming down her cheeks. He was worried about his son, worried because he was dying . . .