Come What May (Heartbeat) (2 page)

Chapter Two
Jada

I’m kissing him, but I’m not feeling it.

Pulling away, I disengage from our embrace, pushing his body off mine. I roll off the side of the couch, leaving Jason none too pleased. Zipping my jeans, I fasten the top button and smooth my hair back into place. I’m in no mood for a quickie. He has to leave in five minutes. What’s the point?

“Oh, babe. You’re killing me.” Sprawling across the cushions, he acts like he’s in excruciating pain. Please, go walk it off. Or better yet, go in the bathroom and jerk yourself off. At this point, I could care less. It’s always about his needs. What about mine?

“It’s two o’clock. You’re going to be late.” Or in other words, I want your lazy ass out of my apartment. I have work to do.

Sitting up, he tosses a white t-shirt over his head followed by his Syracuse University basketball jersey. Of course, he’s not a member of the team. He’s a wannabe, that’s all. As if proving my point, he stretches while eliciting a never-ending yawn.

“Are you sure you’re all right to drive back? Maybe you should stop for some coffee before you hit the road.” Despite my better inclinations, my mothering instincts kick in. This weekend was a bit of a whirlwind. Jason arrived home from Syracuse late Friday night, and not even forty-eight hours later, he’s heading back. It’s no way to handle a relationship, long distance or not.

“Your lips are the only stimulant I need.” Rising from the couch, he attempts to wrap me in his arms, but I resist. “What is it now? You’re not even going to kiss me goodbye?”

We’re not right for each other on so many levels. Yeah, he’s enrolled at a good school, but he’s just about getting by. He’s partying more than studying. His ambition is to pass his classes, and that’s about it. He hasn’t even declared a major yet. He never pushes himself. It’s not in his DNA. He’s content with being mediocre.

And that’s why whatever this is has to end.

Placing a hand on his chest, I gather my courage. “Jay, we need to talk.”

“About what?” His brow creases as he places his hand on top of mine.

I have to hurt him. It’s the only way. He lacks the motivation to make a change. He’s content going on as we are, no matter how bad things get. This is my chance to escape, and I’m taking it.

Keys jingle in the lock and the front door swings open. Lugging in two grocery bags, my roommate, Simone, halts when she sees us. “Oh jeez, guys. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“There’s nothing to interrupt.” Even I’m startled by Jason’s words. Reaching for his leather jacket, he hastily shoves his arms through the sleeves.

“Jay, c’mon.” Yeah, it’s awkward, but it’ll be even worse if he walks out. I can’t go on like this. This relationship needs to be put out of its misery.

“I gotta run. I’ll call you later.” Simone scoots out of the way as he rushes by her. Yeah, he’s definitely not stopping. He’s going to make a run for it. So much for that goodbye kiss.

But in a way, I’m relieved. I don’t know if I’m ready to handle the drama he’s bound to unleash when I tell him it’s over. After he walks out the door, I collapse onto the couch that’s still warm from our make out session.

“Aren’t you going after him?” Simone’s baffled. Who can blame her after stepping into this whirlwind of mixed emotions?

“No, I don’t think so.” I examine my nails.

“So that’s it?” Simone smirks in my direction and kicks the door closed with her foot. “You’re cold, Jada. Is there any blood running through those veins?”

“Listen, I’m only a booty call to him now. He’ll drive over two hours just to get laid. Despite the fact that he lives on a college campus—hook-up central—he’s still too lazy to cheat on me. I wish he’d give me an excuse to dump his sorry ass.” Grabbing my phone off the end table, I scroll through my schedule for the week, hoping to squeeze in a manicure.

“You’re not the least bit upset that the only guy you’ve ever dated is no longer a part of your day-to-day life?” Simone plops down on the floor in front of me, searching my face for the truth.

“Whatever we had ended when he went away to school. And sure, I mourned a bit then because I knew he’d never put in the effort that a long distance relationship requires. He never calls unless he’s bored, and we go weeks between visits. I think he’s still mad at me that I didn’t join him at Syracuse.” Yeah, some decisions close certain doors forever. It’s all about making peace with the past, something that’s impossible for me to do.

“What did Rachel say when she saw him here?” Simone wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“She basically told me that if I was going to turn this place into my own private whorehouse that I could find another place to live next semester.” Groaning, I roll my eyes.

Rachel is our other roommate, or should I say chaperone? When I moved in, she warned me that having guys spend the night wasn’t allowed. She doesn’t have a boyfriend. She never dates. Yet she feels the need to dictate how we conduct our private lives. Yeah, she had the apartment first, but we all contribute equally to the rent. What gives her the right to judge who I invite into my bedroom?

“Should I steal another whisk?” Simone laughs mischievously, and I can’t help but join in.

On Valentine’s Day, Rachel caught Simone’s boyfriend, Kevin, stepping out of the shower. I admit he’s a fine specimen of a man. Luscious brown skin, muscles to spare, and according to Simone, well endowed. However, when Rachel’s firestorm erupted, Kevin ran down the hallway wearing nothing but a pink hand towel. Needless to say, he bolted, leaving Simone naked between the sheets.

So what did Rachel do? She decided to bake, of all things, heart-shaped cookies. The recipe was Simone’s and she knew the cream icing required a whisk. So she dashed into the kitchen, snatching the utensil out of the drawer. Running out of the apartment with Rachel screaming behind her, Simone hurled the whisk into the dumpster out back. And they say revenge isn’t sweet.

“Or maybe I should offer to do her hair. I didn’t do so well with layering in Friday’s class. She’d be the perfect one to practice on.” We collapse in a fit of giggles since Rachel sports a style similar to a guy’s buzz cut.

“What else is new in cosmetology land?” Since Jason took up most of my weekend, it’s nice to indulge in some girl talk with Simone.

“I’m right on track to become a slave in some salon come spring. I can’t wait to work on thirty customers a day and make next to nothing in tips. At least what you’re doing has some meaning.” Simone pats my knee in encouragement.

“True, until you screw up and somebody dies.” I’m training to be a paramedic, and the consequences are very real. There’s no room for error.

“Have you ever made a mistake in your entire life?” The words are out of Simone’s mouth before she can reel them back. Looking away, she fiddles with the watch on her wrist. After a beat, she picks up where she left off. “Did you find out who your new partner is?”

Clearing my throat to combat the tension rising in my body, I nod. “Yeah, it’s Adam O’Malley. He’s a year ahead of me.”

“Is he cute?” Simone smiles up at me.

“If you’re into skinny white boys with shaggy blond hair.” Yeah, he’s hot, but I’m not telling Simone that.

“I think it’s time you finally kicked Jason to the curb.” Leaning forward, Simone plays with her hair. Her ebony curls are freshly highlighted, although the color came out a little redder than she anticipated.

“How about we quit talking about guys and you do my nails?” I want to steer her thoughts in another direction. I can’t get involved with a co-worker. I don’t do things like that. And her teasing will only make it seem like it’s a possibility when it’s not.

“Rachel would be so proud of you right now.” Rustling through her bag, she searches for her kit.

“Maybe you can shave my head while you’re at it.” She looks up and I stick my tongue out at her.

“Poor Adam. He’s going to be stuck with you in an ambulance for ten hours a day? Yikes!” Simone positions my hand under the lamp and begins filing away.

Nope. She’s not going to drop the subject. Instead, she intends to feed this dangerous fantasy of mine. Man, I’m in trouble now.

Chapter Three
Adam

I have to get some sleep, but tonight an alcohol-induced slumber is out of the question. The first shift with my new partner is in less than six hours. And it’s not a good idea to start things off on the wrong foot, especially since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. I don’t want her to hate me right off the bat.

Luckily, Suzanne doesn’t hate me. My mouth devours hers as I brace myself above her body. Sex is a great distraction. We’re always flirting with each other at the hospital. I’m an idiot for having waited so long to ask her over to my place. It didn’t take much to convince her to drive all the way out here on a Sunday night. An hour later, she’s in my bed.

She flips me onto my back and traces her finger through the tuft of hair extending beyond my belly button. She’s driving me crazy. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I’m beyond turned on. I want to be moving within her, lost to the world, not playing these games.

I need to forget and stop Katie from entering my mind. I have to fill her place with Suzanne’s touch. It’s time to hang the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the doorknob of my subconscious. I’m so not answering if Katie comes a-knocking.

Why am I even thinking about Katie? Frustrated, I sit up, bringing Suzanne with me. She grins into our kiss thinking I’m excited to try a new position. Running her fingers through my hair, she props me against the headboard. Biting my bottom lip, she doesn’t stop kissing me as she encircles my waist with her legs. Guiding myself into her, I pump my hips and begin thrusting inside of her. Matching me move for move, she lowers my hands to her hips, trying to slow my momentum. But I don’t care whether she comes or not I’m just after my own release, my own pleasure. This isn’t about pleasing her.

“Baby, you’re in kind of deep. It’s getting a little rough. Pull out just a little.” She’s panting and her eyes are dilated. Yet she grimaces to indicate her discomfort.

But I don’t care. I’m almost there, and I’m not stopping now. Increasing my rhythm, she groans as I take her. She’s trying to inch off of me, but I prevent her from moving. Hitting my climax, I shove into her, splaying her body against the edge of the bed. She whimpers slightly as my full body weight collapses on top of her petite frame. But I need a minute to catch my breath. She can wait.

Her hands grip my shoulders as she tries to get out from under me. But I refuse to budge. The longer I stay inside of her, the longer I can keep my demons at bay. I’m satiated, but will my mind turn off long enough so I can get some rest? I haven’t slept through the night in weeks.

“Adam, you have to get off of me now.” Suzanne tries to move beneath me, but I barely feel it. I’m blissfully numb to everything.

Tugging my hair, she pulls a clump of it out by the roots.

“What the…?” I sit up and she slides away from me.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Cringing, she slowly gets off the bed and circles the room, looking for her discarded underwear.

Sighing, I recline against the pillows, trying to maintain that feeling of emptiness. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” I don’t sound remotely convincing.

“It didn’t have to be like that, you know. We could’ve had a good time, enjoyed each other. But you had to go and fuck it up.” Gingerly, she steps into her panties. It’s obvious she’s going to be sore for a couple of days. But I don’t feel a shred of remorse. She served her purpose. I got what I needed.

Clasping her bra behind her back, she turns to face me. “I think I’m going to go.”

“Do what you gotta do. I’m not stopping you.” I shift across the bed and turn off the lamp. The room is now pitch black. She can’t see where she’s going, and she winces as she bends down to hunt for the rest of her clothing. Swearing under her breath, she gets dressed in the dark.

“Next time I see you at the hospital, don’t talk to me, okay?” I don’t need to see her face to know how much she despises me. Another item to add to my list of failures.

Gliding her hands against the wall, she finds her way into the living room. Fumbling over a light switch, she turns it on. Storming through the apartment, she flicks on every light she can find.

“You wanna be in the dark, Adam? Good, cuz I don’t!”

And with that, she closes the front door so hard my bed rattles.

Chapter Four
Jada

I crank up the heater, but cold air shoots out. It’s like I’m sitting in the back of a refrigerated truck instead of an ambulance. Where the hell is my partner? It’s after six o’clock.

I’m nervous. Sure, I’ve seen Adam around school. I know who he is. But I’ve never actually talked to him. I’m not good at meeting new people. I suck at it. I don’t know how to sell myself and make others think I have it all figured out. Self-confidence isn’t one of my strong points.

It was hard getting ready this morning. I got up early to braid my hair and iron my uniform. It helps when I feel that I look presentable. It eases my nerves somewhat when I appear professional. I hate when I’m working and my hair falls in my face or my shirt comes untucked. The job requires a tremendous amount of focus and I don’t want to have to fuss over my appearance all day.

Over a bowl of Cheerios, I pored over the safety guidelines I already know by heart. I don’t want to make a stupid mistake, especially not today. I need my partner to feel secure in my ability. It’s just the two of us, and we have to be able to depend on each other.

My last team really didn’t let me do much. I was mainly an observer. I sat in the back of the rig, every ride bumpy and crowded. I was the tag-a-long member of an established three-man crew. Squished in the corner, I watched them do everything from administering CPR to intubating patients, but always from the sidelines, never hands on.

I’m afraid my lack of experience is going to hinder Adam quite a bit. He’s probably going to have to pick up a lot of the slack until I get my feet wet. I hope he has the patience and the desire to teach me what he knows. Regardless, I’m terrified that our patients are going to be at risk while I’m playing catch up.

Patting my coat pocket, I relax when I feel the familiar outline of my pill container. My doctor said I’m allowed to take two of my anti-anxiety meds if I’m having an exceptionally stressful day, and I think I’m going to need them. I already took the daily dose of my antidepressant so hopefully I’ll be okay.

I never wanted to be on medication since I don’t consider myself mentally ill. Sure, I have issues. Unfortunately, I’m unable to deal with them without the help of pharmaceuticals. I always perform well in environments where I can control the outcome. It’s when things start to unravel that I freak out. The drugs keep me in line. They regulate my mood and behavior, so I appear normal even when things are churning beneath the surface.

Until last year, I was a pro at masking my symptoms. Then something terrible happened and I crumbled. I was sent to a psychologist who uncovered my previously undiagnosed condition—manic depression. Prescriptions were written. Appointments were scheduled. I’m treatable as long as I remain monitored.

But despite all of that, I wanted to be a paramedic. It was the one epiphany I held onto, and it changed the course of my life. I didn’t go to Syracuse with Jason, even though I was accepted. I didn’t go down the road everyone expected me to. For better or worse, I chose my own path.

The driver’s side door creaks open as my partner climbs in, immediately snapping me back to reality. “Sorry I’m late. Thanks for getting the rig started.” Buckling his seatbelt, he turns and extends his hand. “I’m Adam by the way.”

“Jada.” I shake his hand then quickly release it. I don’t care how cute he is. He’s fifteen minutes late. Rules are rules.

“Nice to meet you.” Not wasting time on additional pleasantries, he starts backing the ambulance out of the station’s garage. He fiddles with the comm and adjusts the rearview mirror. He’s going through the motions like I’m not even there.

“Just so you know, the last crew I was on didn’t let me do anything, so I pretty much have zero experience in the field.” Might as well get it out there now so there are no surprises later. “I hope you’re willing to show me the ropes.”

His eyes are bloodshot as he scans the road in front of him. We’ve only just met and it appears he’s only half listening to me. “Yeah, don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

We drive by a bank, and the temperature on the sign reads thirty-two degrees. I glance at what he’s wearing—a wrinkled short sleeve shirt, no coat. He catches me giving him the once-over and shoots me an annoyed look.

“What?” He already sounds aggravated.

“Nothing.” Really dude? I can be just as unsociable.

He leans forward to check for traffic as we merge onto the highway. The back of his black shirt is covered with strands of his hair. Itching to pull the lint brush out of my bag, I want to give his uniform a good swipe, but I restrain myself.

“Jeez. Watch it, asshole!” He gestures angrily as a car cuts in front of him. Beating his palms against the steering wheel, he continues to mumble obscenities.

Wow, he’s a live wire. The slightest thing sets him off. And I thought I was bad.

He turns on the radio and rockets through the channels. Nearly all of them are playing commercials. He’s growing more irritated by the minute.

I’m a little taken aback by his attitude. He’s not even trying to make a good first impression. It’s like what I think of him is irrelevant. He could care less. I’m just along for the ride. I have to speak up. I can’t have him thinking I’m going to put up with this shit.

“You might want to slow down.” The speedometer is at seventy-five miles per hour, and we’re in a fifty-five zone.

He answers by increasing our speed to eighty before turning on the lights and siren. The vehicles in front of us start to clear a path so we can get through. He flies by them laughing under his breath.

“You can’t do that. If you get caught…”

“You’re such a rookie.”

Reaching for the comm, I rip the mic off the Velcro holder and click the button. “This is unit 365.”

“Go ahead, unit 365.”

But before I can respond, Adam grabs the receiver out of my hand. “Sorry, Chuck. Just practicing with my new partner.” He glares at me, but all I notice is how silky his eyelashes are.

“And that’s why the siren’s blaring too?” Adam’s scowl darkens as Chuck taunts him. “You know you can always practice with the device turned off, right? No need to tie up the channel.”

“10-4.” Adam signs off and veers off an exit ramp, killing the lights and siren. Making a quick right, he pulls into the lot of a convenient store and parks beyond the gas pumps.

“I have to take a piss.” That’s all he says before leaving me in the ambulance with the engine running.

Removing the second pill from my case, I pop it my mouth and force my throat to swallow. I didn’t think I’d need it this soon.