Dropping Gloves (13 page)

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Authors: Catherine Gayle

BOOK: Dropping Gloves
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Me:
Shut your fucking mouth, talking about her like that.

 

Razor:
If that’s not it, then what the fuck did you mean?

 

Me:
I meant I’m not the only one still hung up.

 

I don’t know why I would tell him that. Hell, I don’t know why I’d ever let him in on the fact that I was still a virgin years ago. He knew, and Levi knew, but that was it. I was just lucky he hadn’t said anything about it to the guys, and I had to skate a fine line with Levi all the time to be sure he didn’t open his big mouth and blab. Things like that get around a locker room really fast, and I had always taken enough heat from the guys just because I had a baby face that girls liked. I had dimples, I blushed easily, girls screamed for me at games and whatnot like I was in a damn boy band… Add
virgin
to that, and they would torture the ever-living shit out of me until I buried my head in the sand and retired.

Regardless of all that, there was no reason for me to tell Razor about Katie. About how she wanted to be with me again. No reason to let on about any of it. I wasn’t planning to act on her suggestions, and I’d already allowed her to take things further than I should have. What purpose would filling Razor in serve?

 

Razor:
She still wants you? If she’s sticking around and you don’t figure out a way to put a ring on her finger, you’re a bigger fucking idiot than I thought you were.

 

Who knew Razor could be philosophical?

 

 

 

Today was turning
into one of my busiest days in recent memory. It was barely after lunchtime, and I was already exhausted. In the morning, I’d gone in for the closing on my house. I was officially a homeowner now, and at the moment, I was sitting on the empty floor of my house. I had a bunch of stuff being delivered tomorrow morning, and I wanted to have a plan in place. I was trying to get a good visual formed in my mind for furniture placement when my phone rang, interrupting my solitude.

I dug my phone out of my purse. Dr. Oliver’s office was calling. Nausea swamped me almost immediately upon seeing his name flash up on the screen. I pressed my eyes closed, flopped down to lie on my back, and answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Katie? It’s Dr. Oliver.”

Not one of the nurses or a receptionist, even. He was calling me himself. That couldn’t bode well for whatever he had to tell me. Every part of my body tensed in preparation to hear the worst, even though I knew there was no chance he’d tell me over the phone. That wasn’t how doctors worked, typically.

“I take it my test results are back?” I said, sounding a lot more put-together than I felt.

“Just got the last of them this morning. I need you to come in so we can discuss what we’ve found and come up with a treatment plan.”

That definitely wasn’t a surprise. We already knew it was cancer, so at this point,
any
result would be in-person-appointment worthy.

“Okay. Tell me when, and I’ll be there.”

“Can you be here at two? I’ll have my receptionist move my schedule around.”

Two o’clock. Meaning today. I glanced at my watch. Meaning in just over an hour.

Meaning no time to prep myself for the news I’d been dreading.

“Yeah,” I said, my tongue thick from the effort of holding back my tears. “Two o’clock. I’ll be there.”

We hung up, and I pressed my hands to my stomach, wishing it would make the churning stop.

I probably should have someone go with me in case I had an emotional breakdown and couldn’t drive. That seemed like the smart thing to do, but who?

Dad was still up at the practice facility, surely. He rarely got home before mid-to-late afternoon these days. He had a job to do, so I shouldn’t call him and ask him to go with me.

I
should
call Mom, but I wasn’t sure I could handle her being with me for getting the news, whatever it might be. It would be easier to deliver it to her if I knew what was going on and decided how best to fill her in. At home. On
my
terms. Nope, definitely not calling her right now.

For a moment, I tossed around the idea of looking up one of my high school friends. They all had jobs, though, and couldn’t just take off in the middle of a workday with no notice. They had their own lives to lead, and they couldn’t just drop everything to come with me and hold my hand for a doctor’s appointment. This wasn’t an emergency. It wasn’t life or death…well, not
immediately
life or death, at least.

In the end, I decided I’d just go alone. If it was too much for me to handle by myself, I could call someone to come and get me or take a cab. Something.

I dragged myself up from the floor, grabbed my purse, and headed out the front door. I’d just put my key in the lock when Jamie’s car stopped in his driveway. Not only that, but he opened his car door and got out instead of driving into the garage. Under normal circumstances, I would be glad that he’d gotten out instead of pretending he hadn’t seen me. This wasn’t normal, though. This was as far from normal as possible.

My hands were shaking so badly that I fumbled with the lock. I tucked the stray hair that had slipped out of my ponytail behind my ear and tried to slow my breathing and my pulse so I could get the shaking under control. No go. The keys dropped out of my hand and hit the porch. “Damn it.”

“You all right?” Jamie asked. He was right behind me, close enough I’d step on his foot if I took a step back. Close enough I could feel the warmth of his body all along my backside.

“Fine.” I bent down to get the keys.

When I straightened, he reached for them. Or for me. His hand closed over mine, steady and strong. “You’re shaking,” he said. He put his other hand on my waist, drawing me back toward him. “You’re not cold. What’s wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

“Because I know you.” He said it so matter-of-factly. And it was the truth. He knew me, maybe better than I knew myself sometimes.

His body heat enveloped me, even though we were barely touching. He was like a protective shell around me, guarding me from whatever life might throw at me. Or maybe that was just what I wanted him to be, and he was letting me believe in the fantasy for a while. I wanted to lean back against him. I wanted to press my length against his and allow myself to pretend, for a little bit longer, that he could be my harbor in the storm I was about to face.

“You’re crying,” he said, his mouth just behind my ear. “It kills me when you cry.”

“Would you believe they’re happy tears? I just bought a house.”

“But you’re shaking too hard to lock the door.”

I supposed that meant he didn’t believe my excuse.

He released my hand, easing the keys into his grip. Then he locked the door for me and nudged my arm until I faced him. His eyes were deep wells of concern, searching me, and he brushed a tear from my cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “Tell me. Whatever it is. You said you want another chance. You want me to want you. So tell me.” He chucked me under the chin with his other hand, keeping me from turning away again. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t even know if it’s anything worth crying over.” That was a lie. Cancer was definitely a cry-making kind of thing, and saying even that much only made my tears kick into overdrive.

Jamie’s eyes traveled over me, probing as though he could ferret out the answers he wanted with nothing more than his gaze. I couldn’t handle the scrutiny. I felt as though he were peeling away all the layers of secrecy I’d built around myself over the years. If there were ever anyone I could feel safe opening up to about it all, someone I could trust to share my fears with, it was Jamie, but I couldn’t bear the thought of what he might think of me when he knew the truth.

I tried to shrug away from him, but he slipped an arm around my waist and held me close, and his lips pressed against my temple. And I was toast. I was putty in his hands, his to mold in any way he saw fit.

“You’re not shaking anymore,” he murmured, his lips still touching my skin. “Tell me, Katie. Let me help.”

It just wasn’t in me to deny him anything. Not right now. “I have to go get my test results from my oncologist,” I forced out.

He nodded, his jaw brushing my forehead, and both his arms tightened around me, cocooning me and giving me a safe haven, at least for the moment. I let my head fall forward, nestling it on his shoulder, even though I would make a mess of his shirt with my tears.

“When?” he asked.

“Now. He’s fitting me in at two.”

“Is your mom meeting you there?”

I shook my head.

“Your dad, then?”

I tried to answer, but another sob came out instead.

“Damn it, Katie. You haven’t told anyone, have you?”

“No.”

“You can’t do this alone.” He smoothed a hand over my hair, brushing it back from the tears on my cheek. “Come on. I’ll take you.” He took my hand and led me to his car. I let him because right now, I needed someone to take over. Someone had to take charge, tell me what to do, and make sure I did it. I allowed myself this moment of weakness because conserving my strength was an absolute necessity right now, and would continue to be for a long time to come.

Kicking cancer’s hairy ass out of my life the first time had taken more than I’d thought I had to give. I didn’t get the sense that this would be one of those things that got easier with practice. I was going to need every bit of strength I could muster and then some if I was going to come out on the other side of this.

Jamie opened the car door and waited until I was situated. Then he closed the door and crossed to the driver’s side. He put his key in the ignition and started the motor, but instead of shifting into reverse, he reached for my hand.

I shot my gaze up. His expression was fierce and caring at the same time.

“I do want you, you know,” he said. “I want you more than I know what to do with. I’ve never stopped wanting you. I don’t think I ever will, either, and I can’t handle losing you again.”

I blinked back a couple more tears. He was going to give me another chance. “I’m not going anywhere, Jamie,” I said. “I already told you that.”

“No, you’re not leaving. And you’re not going to die on me, either. You got that?” He squeezed my hand so hard it almost hurt. “I’m not going to let you. So you just need to get it in your head right now that you’re going to fight this with everything you have and then some. Anything less isn’t going to cut it. All right?”

I sniffled and put my other hand over the top of his, my insides tingling from all the feelings racing though me. I nodded, never breaking eye contact. “I’ve got it. I’m ready to fight.” If he stayed by my side, I could do anything.

“Good.” Then he kissed me so hard I felt it all the way down to my toes. He sucked my lower lip into his mouth briefly before breaking off and putting the car in gear.

My face was still drenched from my crying. I dug around inside my purse to find some tissues. “How is it that I’m always crying when you kiss me?” I finally fished out my tissue pack and took one out to blow my nose.

He quirked up a grin, glancing at me with a heated expression before backing out of the drive. “Not
always
. I seem to recall a recent kiss that didn’t involve tears.”

“Well, there was that one,” I conceded. Still, there needed to be more kisses and fewer tears. It looked like I might finally get my way, too.


Thyroid cancer,” Katie
repeated after the doctor.

I clutched her hand tighter, unsure if I meant to reassure her or myself. Now that I’d made up my mind that I couldn’t
not
have her in my life, the last thing I wanted to do was sit here in a doctor’s office and listen while he told us all the things that might take her away from me. I’d rather be at home with her. Holding her. Showing her how much I wanted her in ways that proved how words failed. That was going to have to wait, though.

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