Garrett pushes out from underneath my body and rolls on his side to face me. We lie close, sharing the same pillow as we look at each other. "We're divided into two groups...A and B, so that there can be more individualized attention and observation from the coaches. We basically do drills for about two hours and the coaches evaluate us. Some are to test our skills, others to help start getting us back into shape. Tomorrow we'll actually have a short scrimmage game...probably only about forty-five minutes long. We'll do that this week and next, then the coaches will start to make decisions on who will be released from the team."
"So, not everyone will make the team?"
"Nope. Some will go down to the minors, others won't be going anywhere."
"I'm assuming you'll make the team?" I ask him with a grin.
He reaches out and taps his finger on the end of my nose. "You're cute. Funny and cute, and maybe a little bit bad. Maybe I should spank you."
"Try it and you'll have a fight on your hands," I warn him, although the idea of him spanking me causes a thrill of desire to rush through my veins.
"Maybe some other time," he says dismissively. "But more important...favorite movie?"
"You're so weird," I tell him honestly. "You're totally blowing this whole man-whore vibe you had going at the party the night I met you."
"Because I want to know your favorite movie?" he asks, his eyes all wide and confused. "I mean...I ask every woman I bring home what her favorite movie is. That is...after I find out her favorite candy."
"And I'm guessing that's a lot of movies and candy choices to keep track of," I say jokingly, although part of me is curious over just how prolific of a lover Garrett is.
Garrett's smile slides a little and his eyes are solemn with truth. "You're the only woman I've ever brought to my house before. Ever."
For the first time since I met Garrett three days ago, I feel an unease settle in my bones that has nothing to do with cancer. What I thought was nothing more than me taking an opportunity to have a last hurrah before I began my treatments, and Garrett taking an opportunity to make another notch in his bedpost, suddenly seems like a little bit more. Knowing that I'm the only woman he's ever brought here gives me a sense of weird elation, and yet I'm scared, because this isn't supposed to be anything more than a casual fling.
I don't know what to say to Garrett. I'm flattered...in fact, a little giddy to know that he's just admitted that he sees me as different from his other conquests. But I can't let that feeling get away from me. I have to rein it in and maintain control, because there's no way this can go anywhere past his bedroom tonight.
Given his lack of ability in having a monogamous relationship in the past, it would be foolish to let my heart become involved with someone like him. And given the fact that my life has gone in the shitter, it would be almost inhumane of me to let him try to pursue something with me. It would be cruel and futile, and it would put terrible expectations upon his broad shoulders.
So, I change the subject again. But not with words.
Sliding toward him on the bed, I press up against his body and nuzzle my way up under his chin. Flicking my tongue out, I touch his neck, then place an open-mouthed kiss there. He hums approval deep in his throat.
"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice all sexy-husky, and he knows damn well what I'm doing.
"Kissing you," I say matter-of-factly.
"Trying to get me all hot and bothered again?" he asks, and I can hear the smile in his voice while I press warm kisses down over his collarbone. His fingers trail down my back, over my butt, and his fingers start to press into me from behind.
So nice.
I reach a hand down and nudge at his cock. It's already growing, and I start a slow, leisurely stroke while I kiss across his chest. "I'm thinking time talking about movies and candy is time wasted we could be doing this."
"A woman who doesn't enjoy pillow talk," Garrett muses as his fingers flirt in between my legs. "Now, that sounds like a woman after my own heart."
Those words should make the unease I had been feeling earlier dissipate, because that sounds like the cocky, playboy Garrett Samuelson that I've heard about. Not someone who wants to cuddle on the bed and tell each other secrets.
Yet I feel oddly sad...a little disappointed. Maybe I really am no different from the countless other women he's been with. Maybe he brought me to his house to just show it off...although that doesn't seem quite right either.
Abruptly, Garrett's hand is gone and he's sliding out from underneath of me.
"Get on your stomach," he commands, and a thrill of excitement flows through me over the dominant tone in his voice. "I've been thinking of doing something to you all fucking day and looks like now is the time."
I roll over completely on my stomach while Garrett leans over and presses a kiss in the middle of my shoulder blades. My head is turned to the side and I can see the beautiful outline of his muscular body as he kneels beside me, his erection sticking out boldly.
Garrett runs his tongue over the skin on my back and murmurs, "I've been wanting to fuck you from behind. Hold on to those braids so I can force your head back to kiss me while I'm pounding away inside of you."
Oh, man. Totally liquefied bones in my body right now. His words are so dark and filthy, totally setting my blood on fire.
"I'm down with that," I murmur, my voice sounding oh-so-needy.
"Good...but this might take a while. Remember when I said you had lots of body parts I wanted to explore?" He opens his mouth over my ribs and sucks on my skin lightly.
"Mmmm, hmmm," I acknowledge dreamily.
"Well, don't count on me fucking you anytime soon. I have a lot of exploring to do."
Damn. I'm like butter...all soft and melted right now. I don't think I'll be able to handle his sultry words and warm, wet kisses.
Garrett's mouth and fingers trail across my body. He takes his time getting to know my various parts...shoulders, elbows, back. Down he goes, trailing fire along my spine.
But then his mouth is gone from my skin. "Fuck, Olivia...is this where you hit your hip?"
He flutters a fingertip lightly over the place where I had my biopsy today. "Yeah."
"It's got a huge bruise around it. What the hell did you do?"
"Nothing...just backed into the corner of a counter at the shop this morning. I must have hit it harder than I thought," I quickly say, wincing internally over the bald-faced lie I'm handing him.
"The bruise is really bad," he murmurs, then he hisses through his teeth as his fingers smooth along the side of my leg. "Jesus...you've got some bruises here. What the fuck? They're four of them. Is that where my fingers were last night when I carried you up the staircase?"
His voice is angry and confused, and I need to diffuse this before he starts asking more questions. Turning my body slightly so I can look at Garrett, I reach an arm back and lay it on his forearm. His head swivels to me and there is concern on his face. "It's fine. The doctor said I'm a little anemic so I just bruise easy. I'm taking some iron for it and I swear...it doesn't hurt."
Garrett cocks an eyebrow at me. "Are you sure? Because they look pretty bad."
I need to break the tension and his worry, so I try for a little bit of humor. "What's wrong, Samuelson? I figured a big, tough hockey player like you could handle seeing a few bruises. I didn't know you had such tender sensibilities."
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.
Chapter 11
Garrett
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."