Breaking Elle (43 page)

“Does it bother you when I call you that?” I ask coyly, leaning into his arm. “Did I bruise your ego?”

“Not when you say it. I think it’s sexy as hell. Kinda hot.” He smacks my ass playfully.

“How hot?” I whisper, rubbing his arm softly.

He leans, runs his nose up my neck, and threatens me in a whisper. “Hot enough that when I come home in five days you’re gonna regret calling me cute.”

“Hmm... is that a promise?” I reply seductively. “I’m not sure I can wait.” I shamelessly beg for one more kiss before he leaves me, and he gives me more.
More is good.
When I pull away, I almost say the words that are on the tip of my tongue. He catches the look in my eye and grins.
I think he knows.

“Can you do one thing for me when I come home?” He asks while biting his lip. The smile that breaks around it is so damn sexy.

“What’s that?” I ask, a little bit scared and a lot excited.

“Wear red.
All
Red.”

When we arrive at the gate, I freeze. He smiles softly brushing my cheek before he leans down to kiss me.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he whispers in my ear. “So much.” He pulls away, and I lay my head on his chest. He holds me close to his body while we wait for them to announce his departure.

“Me, too.” I sigh, feeling his heartbeat underneath my fingers, inhaling as much as I can of him before he leaves me.

Eventually they call his flight and his body tenses. With a long sigh, he pulls away from me and grabs his bag. “Wow, it’s hard leaving you.” He laughs softly, his eyes brushing over my face. “Did I already say that?” His voice cracks as he looks down at his feet.

“Yes,” I whisper holding back tears. “I like hearing it more than once.”

“No, this will be the last time I leave you like this. I promise you that.” He says, standing in front of me with an emotion in his eyes that excites me. I have to stare at the floor wondering if he can see in my eyes what I’m feeling, what I’m afraid to say. He gently places his hand on my cheek forcing me to look at him. “What’s that saying about distance makes the heart grow fonder?” He smiles, tilting his head charmingly to the side.

“I don’t like it.” I pout, squeezing my body close to his.

“Yeah, who am I kidding? I hate it too.” He breathes, softly placing a kiss on my lips. I melt under the sensation of them.

We turn to look out the window, watching all of the planes taxi down the runway and knowing that in a few minutes he will be on a plane leaving me. When it finally happens, he pulls me in for one more kiss, our bodies pressed against each other, and my arms wrapped securely around his waist. I never close my eyes and neither does he. The kiss is deep and sweet. I’m falling into an abyss that I don’t ever want to climb out of. I clutch his hand until the last possible second, feeling something overwhelmingly powerful. I cannot believe how hard it is for me to see him go. I’m afraid of how fast I’ve become attached to him, someone whom I never thought I would fall for. All I have is his word that he’ll come back, and from the look in his eyes, I have to believe that he will. I can’t think of the possibility of him not coming back. My mind and my heart would not be able to handle it.

I don’t know what felt worse, watching him walk down the tunnel to the plane and disappearing from my sight, or the walk back to his truck. Not because I had to drive the monster home, but because I had to drive it back home alone, without him. I remember the first time I saw his Hummer in the parking lot that night at the club and how ridiculously big it was to me. The shiny black beast with its black leather seats and the tinted windows doesn’t seem large anymore, but comforting knowing that it’s Reed’s. That still doesn’t lessen the anxiety I feel about driving it. I crank up the radio and close my eyes, picturing him next to me, kissing me, holding me. I’ll be fine. The first thing I’m going to do when I get home is take a run, and then I’m going shopping and buying everything I can in red.

I hate everything about flying, the food, delays, and the small seats made for people less than six feet tall. I guess they don’t think about tall people needing to get around too. I shove my legs underneath the seat in front of me, and pop on my headphones to drown out the toddler throwing a tantrum. I hate that, too. I especially hate takeoff and landing. Yeah, I’m a pussy when it comes to flying.

I buckle my seatbelt and close my eyes to fall asleep, but it only makes me think about Momma, what she’s going through, and having to leave Elle behind. It was hard saying goodbye to her and walking down that endless tunnel to the plane. I have to keep telling myself it’s only a few days. I’ll be okay. I picture her in those damn cut-off shorts and tank top, and I just want to get off the plane. Sleep can’t come for me soon enough.

Getting off the plane and having my fucking feet planted on the ground is a relief. Feeling the hot Texas air on my skin is what I need after the long six-hour flight. First things first, I have to go straight to the hospital and see my mom. Then meet up with Doc to see what he thinks of my knee and if I have a chance to try out again. I know I’m going to anyway, but having Doc’s blessing would mean a lot to me.

I’m happy to see my sister and Tommy when they pick me up at the airport. However, as we’re heading over to the hospital to see Mom, I grow depressed and angry despite Tommy’s best efforts to make jokes and talk about our college days. They only remind me of when my mom was first diagnosed with cancer, my doomed relationship with Campbell, and my knee injury. I know he means well, but I drown him out for the rest of the ride. Instead, I stare out the window and take in as much of Texas as possible while I’m here.

It’s only been a few months, and I really miss this place—the sprawling ranches, the horses, and all the friendly people that zip past as we drive through town. But I hate what came along with it— trouble, no privacy, always having to look over my shoulder, and constantly moving around to make sure that no one could find us because of the crap I got messed up in. I couldn’t put my family at risk and that’s why I had to leave.

I swallow back the fear and anxiety when we pull into the parking lot. I walk through the doors and make my way up to the seventh floor. Funny, seven has always been lucky for me. It was the number on my football jersey, but I’m not enjoying what seven stands for now. Not
today
and not in this place.

I hate hospitals; they’re ugly, depressing buildings. I hate the naked sterile feel of the hallways and the lingering sense of sickness. The only thing I hate more is seeing my mom lying in bed again with tubes snaking out of her nose and down her arms. Balloons and flowers decorate the ghost white room, but it doesn’t take away the chill that attacks my heart. I gently place the roses I picked up in the gift shop next to her bed while watching her fragile chest rise and fall under the blankets. She’s only fifty-eight years old, but her first battle with cancer took so much out of her.

“Reed,” she murmurs with her eyes still closed. She reaches for me, touching my hand. Her eyes flutter open so that I can see her blue eyes. “My baby boy. I knew you’d come.” She smiles with admiration. She has a sixth sense when it comes to my sister and me. She is always able to smile even through all of the shit she’s suffered. Hearing her voice makes me want to bawl like a baby, but I suck it up. I take her hand placing it to my cheek, feeling her cold, frail skin against mine. Her pale, blue hospital gown hangs off her thin shoulders, and her brown hair is back in a bun with strands that dangle loosely around her face.

“Momma,” I murmur, “you look beautiful today.” I smile, kissing her on the forehead, smelling her sweet perfume that reminds me of when I was a little boy. The perfume that came in a rose-shaped bottle, the first gift I was able to buy her with money I saved from cleaning stables. She still wears it to this day.

“How’s my baby’s knee?” She asks, her eyes twinkling. One thing about Momma is that she’s the biggest Dallas Cowboys fan. So when the Cowboys approached me, you best believe Momma was the happiest person in Texas. Even when I hurt my knee, she still believed that I would get there. I will. I’ll get there for her.

“Perfect. I’m going to meet with Doc while I’m here and see what he says. I plan to try out. But I didn’t come here to talk about me. How are you doing?” I ask, battling back the need to cry. Stupid question to ask since she’s going to lie and tell me she’s doing great. I need to track down the doctor and find out the truth. I fucking hate being here again.

“I’m a little tired, but I’m okay. Darn cancer can’t stay away,” she says, her face contorting oddly.

“Momma, you all right?” I swallow hard, turning to the door to yell for a nurse.

“I’m fine.” She smiles through the pain. “All these plastic thingies are giving me what I need. It’s just a little uncomfortable.” She glances down at her arm and swats at the plastic tube, making me laugh. She still has some fight in her.

I love being here, but I also hate being here. I hate that my mom is in the hospital. I fucking hate a lot of things lately. I just want to rip the tubes out of her and carry her out of here. I wish that the cancer would go away. I’m glad that Elle is not here to see this, but a part of me wishes she was because I need her right now, her smile, her touch. Is that selfish or what?

My sister and Tommy walk in holding hands and smiling, bringing my mom her favorite
People Magazine
. My sister sets it on the bedside table and stands next to me, wrapping her arm around my waist.

“You can’t go without this trash, can you Ma?” I laugh.

“Nope, I like to see what the rich and famous are doing. It makes me laugh to see how much they take for granted.” She chuckles.

“Momma looks beautiful today, doesn’t she Reed?” My sister chirps; her pale blue eyes are soft and pensive. She’s wearing her typical outfit— a white tank top, blue jeans with cowboy boots, and one of those scarfy things—with her light brown hair falling to her waist. She’s a woman now, but she’ll always be my baby sister. I’m glad that she ended up with Tommy. He’s good to her, takes care of her, and gives her everything she needs. He loves her and would do anything for her. That’s all that matters.

“No question.” I smile down at my sister, wrapping my arm around her shoulder.

“I’m so happy today,” my mom grins, tucking a piece of hair that’s fallen out of her bun, “now that my two loving children are here with me. This is all I need.”

“We need to beat this cancer, Momma Ivy, and bring you back home.” Tommy adds. Slipping off his baseball cap, he walks behind my sister and takes her hand. If it wasn’t for his green eyes, we could pass for brothers. We’ve been close ever since college. When you play football together for four years, you build this bond that can never be broken.

I don’t know what’s up with him and what he’s wearing today, though. Must have been my sister’s doing because he’s wearing khaki shorts and a button down shirt instead of his typical blue jeans and t-shirt. I laugh to myself thinking he’s kind of dressed like some of the guys that I’ve seen up in Boston. He catches me looking at him funny and shrugs his shoulder smiling.
Women.