"Later," I say, and then, with a sigh, turn around and head back to my bedroom.
I find Garrett in there, going through my drawers. Standing in the doorway, I watch for a moment as he rifles through them, finally pulling out a pair of my pajamas. Without even looking at me, he says, "Let's get you into your pajamas so you can go to bed."
"How about we talk first," I tell him.
He turns and walks over to me, casually tossing the nightwear on my bed. Reaching down to the hem of my shirt, he starts to lift it over my head. "Let's get you in bed first, then we'll talk."
My shirt lifts free of my head and before I can even move or argue with him, his hands are efficiently removing my bra. His gaze touches on my breasts, but there's no heat or desire. Only a calm surety in his eyes as he takes the white cami top and pulls it over my head. I participate only to the extent that I thread my arms through, and then he's pulling it down and smoothing the edges out.
"I can do the rest," I tell him testily, because the way he's trying to help is sort of freaking me out a little bit. I'm totally set on the fact that our conversation is going to end with him walking out my door and me never seeing him again.
Garrett steps away and walks over to my window, looking out with his hands tucked into his pockets. I make quick work of getting the rest of my clothes off and slipping the matching pajama bottoms on. I throw my clothes in the hamper and then crawl into bed.
The slight squeak of the box springs has Garrett turning his attention back to me. His green eyes stare at me impassively for a moment, then he pulls a small chair that sits in the corner of my room around to my side of the bed and sits in it so he can face me. I roll on my side and pull the covers up tight up to my chin, my eyes taking in how gorgeous and alive he looks, and I think I must look terrible in comparison.
Resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, Garrett says, "I get why you didn't tell me. I mean...why bother telling the guy that historically wouldn't be around anyway, right?"
"I'm sorry," I say softly, hoping he sees in my eyes how bad I feel about that. He gives me a slight nod, telling me that it's all water under the bridge.
"I'm not going anywhere," he says, his voice laced with a fair warning not to argue.
"Really...I'll be fine," I assure him. "There's no need for you to stay here with me, when I won't be doing much other than sleeping and barfing. I'm sure you have things to do."
"No...you don't get it," he growls. "I'm. Not. Going. Anywhere. And I'm not just talking about right this minute."
I raise up in the bed, tucking an elbow on the mattress to support me. Is Garrett saying what I think he's saying?
"Wait a minute...you still want to see me?" I ask, dumbfounded.
Garrett stares at me intently. "Olivia...I think we tear it up nicely between the sheets, and yeah...I think this started out as just a quick fling. But for some fucking reason, I can't seem to stay away from you, and apparently it doesn't matter if you're riding my cock or throwing up in a toilet...I just want to be around you and get to know you better. So, yeah...I'd like to keep seeing you."
"I don't want this to be an obligation--"
"Just shut the fuck up, Olivia," he says in exasperation as he stands up from the chair and walks to the edge of the bed. "I don't do obligation. I live for what I want, and right now...I want you. So don't ever let me hear you say that. I have enough people doubting my abilities, I don't need it from you. Now move your ass over and let me lie down next to you."
For one brief and glorious moment, I forget about my cancer and the nausea. I don't think about chemotherapy or bone-marrow results. I look at this gorgeous man, who purportedly doesn't do relationships, telling me that he wants one now.
With me.
Sick me.
I let the warmth of his words spread through me. I let them coat me from the inside to the outside in comfort and happiness that Garrett Samuelson is saying he wants me...despite the sickness and uncertainty of my future.
I slide over on the mattress while Garrett kicks off his shoes. He pulls the covers back and slides in next to me, opening his arms so I can move over closer to him. Snuggling in tight and laying my head on his shoulder, I say, "Sutton's really sorry. And I don't think she's doubting your abilities anymore."
"Yeah, well, she's going to have to do a hell of a lot more groveling to make it up to me," he grumbles, and I can't help but giggle.
"You know they didn't tell you because I asked them not to," I point out.
"I know," he says in resignation. "Still pissed at Sutton, though."
"You two kids will figure it out," I say as I pat him on the chest.
I'm feeling immeasurably comfortable, tucked up against Garrett's body and warm in my cocoon. So far, the antinausea drugs are working, and other than being bone tired, I'm thinking this may not be such a bad day after all.
"So, tell me everything you know so far," Garrett asks with no hesitation in his voice, and suddenly the reality of my world hits home once again.
"Hmmm...let's see. So, my doctor--Dr. Yoffman--says that this is a very indolent or slow-growing cancer. That it's rarely curable but very treatable. That we should be able to put it into remission, but that it will probably come back at some point."
"Have you been staged yet?"
"No, they're waiting on the results of the bone-marrow biopsy, but Dr. Yoffman said he's treating it like stage four because they saw a nodule on my lung."
"What does that mean?" he asks with a tinge of unease.
"No clue," I say softly, and suddenly it's clear how very little I actually know about my disease. "I just didn't think to ask those questions," I admit lamely.
Garrett rolls to his side so he's facing me on the bed, then pulls me back in closer. He does this...I realize...so he can look me directly in the eye. "Listen to me...you have a lot on your plate right now. Your head must be absolutely swimming with all of this shit that's being thrown at you. So, don't worry if you forget to ask something. You can always call your doctor as questions arise."
"I know," I say quietly. "I guess I sort of just chose to focus on the fact that the doctor said it's treatable. I don't feel very informed."
"We'll figure it out. Maybe we should write down questions and then you give him a call."
For the first time since I was diagnosed, I actually feel like I might be able to get a handle on this. So far, I've felt stuck in the middle of a huge tornado of information, catching only about half of what's flying by me. But Garrett's right...the doctor is only a phone call away and I don't have to just sit back and worry over the what-ifs.
"Olivia?" Garrett says cautiously, his green eyes seeking some great truth from me.
"Yeah."
"Are you scared?"
"A little bit," I whisper. "But I'm also optimistic."
"Me too," he murmurs as his hand comes up to cup the back of my head and tuck it into the crook of his neck.
He doesn't say anything else, and I have to wonder if he's scared, optimistic, or both.
Chapter 13
Garrett
"Garrett...man, wait up," I hear from behind me as I walk toward my car in the player's parking lot and I hustle up my pace to leave that voice far behind. I hear the pounding of feet and then an arm is on my shoulder, halting my progress.
Blowing out a hiss of frustration, I turn and face Alex for the first time since I stormed out of his house the day before yesterday. At practice today, I kept my distance, even though I could feel his gaze on me. As soon as practice was done, I got dressed as quickly as I could and got the fuck out of there before he could approach me.
"What do you want?" I ask in a tired voice.
I'm tired because I slept for shit last night. I stayed at Olivia's, and while she got sick again late in the afternoon, it was nothing compared to what it was like the day before. She finally was able to drift off into an exhausted sleep, but I tossed and turned most of the night, worrying about her future.
/> "I want to apologize," he says. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Olivia."
"Apology accepted," I say, and turn away from him.
His hand comes back to my shoulder. "Clearly you don't, or else you'd stay here and talk for a minute."
Turning around, I rake my fingers through my hair. "Look, man...I get it. And I'm not even mad you didn't tell me at first. That was Olivia's wish. Why I'm pissed is because you both didn't think highly enough of me to be good enough for her or to trust I'd do the right thing. You knew I liked her...I mean, really liked her. You even said I had it bad for her that day in the locker room, yet you still didn't think enough of me to tell me. My friendship should have outweighed Olivia's request at that point."
"You're right," Alex says hastily. "I know that now. Hindsight's always clearer and all that shit. I handled it badly, and I'm asking you to really forgive me so we can move past this."
I dart my eyes around the parking lot, seeing some of the other players getting in their cars. I have a ton of shit to do today, most of it involving Olivia, and I don't feel like wasting my time here thinking about how badly Alex and Sutton let me down.
"Garrett," Alex says seriously, and his hand comes up to my shoulder. "You have some serious shit going on right now in your life. Your girlfriend has cancer and it's going to be a tough road. Let your friends back in. Forgive me and Sutton for being stupid and let us back in, so we can help support you too. You're going to need it as much as Olivia."
Overwhelming emotion hits me as I realize just how terrifying and isolating this has all been. I've been focusing on staying strong for Olivia, and not even giving much credence to my own feelings. I keep pushing them back, realizing that I'll probably pay the price later when I have time to deal with them.
Alex is right...I've signed myself up for a tough road. I don't have any hesitation, because Olivia is worth it. But he's definitely got a point that this will be much easier with the support of friends than without. On top of that, I really don't have room inside me to hang on to my anger at him and Sutton. I have too much other shit boiling inside right now.
"All right, man," I say as the anger and resentment drains out of me. "Apology really accepted. You're right...now is the time for friends."
Leaning in, Alex surprises the shit out of me by giving me a hug. I roughly clap him on the back and we pull away with matching grins.
"So, what's on your agenda for the weekend?" Alex asks with a punch to my shoulder. "I assume you'll be spending it with the lovely Miss Case."
"Yup. I'm going to take her to the beach. Stevie won't let her back into the shop until at least Monday, so I figure that might be a relaxing place for her to hang out."
"How is she feeling? And doesn't she have another test today?"
"Still a little queasy when she got up. And, yeah...she had her PET scan this morning."
"Sutton told me they're treating this as if she has stage four," Alex says, his voice concerned and sad.
Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly. "Yeah...all the results from the testing should be in early next week, but I guess something showed up on her CT scan that leads her doctor to believe it's at the worst stage."
"But it's treatable," Alex says confidently, and the smile attached to his face tells me he believes that Olivia will win.
But I've been sitting on something that has been gnawing at my insides. "Listen...I talked to an oncologist that's friends with Mark Godson. He gave me the rundown on this type of cancer. And while it's treatable, it's generally not curable."
"That's what Sutton told me," Alex says with a nod. "I assume they just treat it again, right?"
"I guess. I really don't know, but this doctor told me...the median survival rate for this is about twenty years."
"What does that mean?" Alex says, his voice now tinged with the same fear that has been flowing through my veins.
"You know what it means," I tell him tiredly.
"No, I really don't," Alex says. "She could live a lot longer, right?"
"Sure," I tell him with a smile. "And that's the attitude we need to stick with. I just don't think Olivia's been told that yet, or if she has, she hasn't really said anything. I don't know if I should talk about this with her...it's all so new what we have going on, and let's face it...I've never really been in a relationship. I'm sort of out of my league here."
Alex's gaze hits the asphalt and he shuffles on his feet. Looking back up to me, he blows out a quick breath and says, "Okay...I've got to say this. You really think you should get involved with Olivia?"
"What the fuck?" I ask in exasperation. "I thought you questioning my commitment was over."
Shaking his head quickly, Alex says, "I don't say it for that reason. I'm asking you to consider the consequences to you...of getting involved with someone that could die very young. I say that because I'm worried about you."
My chest constricts hard as I take in what Alex is saying, but the thought of cutting Olivia loose causes an even greater stab of pain to hit me. I'm willing to take the risk at this point and I have to believe that Olivia will defy the odds.
--
"Oh, wow," Olivia gasps as we reach the apex of the high-rise bridge that separates Topsail Island from the mainland. "It's stunning."
I turn briefly to glance at her, and I find her face to be far more stunning than the Atlantic Ocean that she's currently looking at with dreamy eyes. Olivia slept most of the way here, which tells me her body needs the rest.
Which was fine. Gave me time to ponder and mull over how radically my life has just changed. There isn't one single ounce of regret inside me for making the choice to continue seeing Olivia. I was going to do it before I found out she was sick, and I still wanted to see her after I found out she was sick. The craving with which I want to get to know her better didn't increase or subside one way or the other, but there is a whole lot of uncertainty now in the mix. It's a lot to process.
Olivia was beside herself when I told her I was taking her to the beach for a long weekend. Ordinarily, she would have worked Saturday at Fleurish, but because Stevie banned her from the shop until Monday, she was all too happy to have the chance for a small getaway.
And I couldn't wait to spend some time with her.
At the end of the bridge, I take a left onto Highway 210 to head north up the beach road. "You grew up in North Carolina, right?" I ask.
Looking out her window at the ocean, she says, "Until I was thirteen. Then Mom moved us out west. We lived in California and then eventually Oregon. I came back here for college and stayed."
"Why did your mom move out west?"
"Free spirit and all that, meaning she followed a guy. Henry...he grew herbal teas, and I'm pretty sure pot too. But he's a nice guy."
"Is your mom still with him?"
"Nah...they lasted a few years, then she met Chuck. He was a musician...which meant he didn't have any money, but he played the guitar beautifully. He was also a pretty nice guy. She's in between bums right now."
"Your mom sounds like a trip," I muse, and for the first time ever...I kind of want to meet a woman's mother. "How is she handling the whole cancer thing?"
Olivia laughs lightly. "She was a wreck when I told her, then she had about a hundred different holistic suggestions for me. Of course, she wanted to get on a plane and fly out right away, but I put her off."
"Why is that?"
"Because while I love my mom more than anything in this world, she can be a bit flaky. And I really can't handle flaky right now. She'll come out soon, but I wanted to get through all of the testing and know what I was really facing before she comes to visit."
"That's understandable," I say, and I know without a doubt I can't wait to meet Olivia's mom. I love flaky.
And I'm really liking the fact that I'm so interested in this woman I'm actually wanting to meet her mother. So weird. So very new and just weird. But I like it.
I put on my blinker and make a right-hand turn into a dri
veway before the little beach cottage that sits right on the ocean dunes. It's got light blue siding with white trim and a little sign that hangs out front that says THE PENALTY BOX.
Olivia's eyes round with surprise. "Do you own this?"
"Actually, me and three other teammates. We all went in on it together and we each get thirteen weeks a year here. This wasn't my week, but Zack traded me out."
"To bring me here?" she asks softly as she turns to look at me.
"Yeah...I figured you could use a relaxing weekend at the beach."
Gratitude and tenderness fill Olivia's eyes, and she leans across the seat toward me. I meet her halfway and her hand comes to my face, gently guiding my lips to hers. She kisses me sweetly, and it's the first time our mouths have touched since her treatments started. I've kissed her plenty of times on her forehead while she's been heaving her guts up the past two days, but I realize now how much I missed that soft mouth on mine.
"Thank you," Olivia whispers.
I touch my forehead to hers and close my eyes. I hold on to this moment and cherish the closeness I feel to her. "Anything for you," I murmur back.
--
We had an excellent dinner at one of the nearby seafood restaurants followed by a walk on the beach, but by eight o'clock Olivia was utterly exhausted and went to bed. I lay with her for a while, until her deep breaths told me she was under, and then I quietly slipped out of bed.
I gaze up at the stars, which are shining bright, and listen to the crashing of the waves as I sip a beer on the oceanside deck. I lean back in my chair and wonder if there is a God up there that would hear my pleas to make Olivia all better.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I flip to my favorites and dial the top spot.
My mom answers on the second ring and I can actually hear the smile in her voice. "Hey, sweet boy. What are you up to?"
"Just checking in to see how you and Dad are doing," I tell her as I watch the ocean waves roll in, all coated in silver from the moonlight.
"We're good. Your dad is anxious for the season to start. We'd like to come watch a game, maybe sometime around Thanksgiving, if that's good for you."
"Anytime," I assure her. "Just let me know the dates and I'll make some plane reservations and get the tickets."
"You get the tickets," she says firmly, "but we'll make our own plane reservations."