For Now (Broken Promises #1) (10 page)

Alexis

“Idiot,” I whisper to myself after I turn the shower on.

I’m not certain why I told him about that dream. It was stupid of me to tell him that, because he’s probably thinking the same thing I’m thinking: ‘
never going to happen’
. I need to stop feeding him those thoughts of a future because he’s sick and he might not have a future. I don’t need to keep reminding him of that.

I turn the water on to as hot as I can take it and step in, letting the steam billow around me, I try to wash off the hospital feel, the sickness, the dirt… but most of all, I’m trying to wash away the sadness. The tears streaming down my face for the man I love hurt my entire body. It hurts to listen to the one you love get sick over and over and not even have it in them to get themselves off the bathroom floor. It hurts to know he’s lying beside you wide awake, unable to go to sleep, when you pass out for the night. It hurts me to not be able to take the pain away for him.

I’m not delusional. I know that I can’t actually take his pain away. It just sucks so fucking bad. So I let the tears free fall as I wash off the memories from yesterday. Today’s a new day, and I have to get out the tears before leaving this room.

I give myself a few minutes to stop and compose myself, then get out of the shower, take a big breath, pull up my big girl panties yet again, and get ready for a day of hopefully normal shit and not more pain and puking. No-one ever said cancer was glamorous. It’s not nice, it’s not fun, and it’s not pretty. It’s ugly, for everyone involved.

By the time I’m out of the bathroom the bedroom is empty and Lane’s in the kitchen making coffee.

“I’m not really feeling any right now but I know how much you need it in the morning,” he says, smiling at me. Even sick he’s cute as hell with his low riding sweat pants and no t-shirt. I can’t decide if I want to run over and hug the sad out of him or run my hands down his perfectly sculpted abs. I still am in awe of his body, no matter how many times I’ve rubbed it down with oil.

“I see that look, Al. You can’t fool me,” he says. Grinning he walks over to me with a cup of coffee and lifts my chin with his finger. “Love you. But I need to get cleaned up and I’m still feeling like a piece of roadkill from last night. Keep that look until later and I’ll make sure to do something about it.”

“That a promise?” I bite my lip and laugh as he sighs and shakes his head.

“Damn woman,” he grunts, walking straight to the bathroom and not looking back before shutting the door behind him.

At least he’s up and walking today. It’s already a better day today than last night was. It’s already looking up if he’s moving around, making coffee, and taking a shower already. We can do this. We can kick this disease’s ass.

My phone dings as soon as I sit on the couch and I curse it. Why’s it always have to wait until I’m comfortable? Hopping up and jogging into the bedroom, I grab it to find a text from Braydon, which makes me smile. I know yesterday he was a jerk, but he’s trying.

Bray:
Breakfast? I’m making bacon and egg
s


Oh God, food sounds fantastic. If I stay here any longer I’m going to have to go to the grocery store, because I swear Lane never eats at home. A gallon of milk, one egg, and some old cheese is about it for his refrigerator.

I knock on the bathroom door, letting Lane know what’s going on.

“Come in,” he announces. Grinning, I slip into the steamy bathroom and the sight before me makes my mouth water.

His shower door is glass. Pure, clear glass… and every ridge of muscle on Lane’s body is moving as he rinses the soap out of his hair.

God, he’s so good looking.

“Hey, I’m heading upstairs for breakfast. You should come up when you’re done.” My eyes trail a water droplet that’s making its way down his back and over his perfect ass.

“I’m not really hungry, babe.” He turns and, as he’s giving me a grin, he starts to wash his front. The soapy bubbles, the water droplets, the fucking muscles. “Go on up, maybe I can get some rest.” He’s full on grinning now, knowing exactly how wet he’s making me, but I don’t give in. He needs rest, and just a few minutes ago he told me how bad he felt. He needs rest. I need to get out of here before I jump him.

“I’m bringing you back something and you will eat it, Lane.” I say, trying to find my stern voice but not able to stop myself from smiling as he starts washing his bits. “Screw you,” I laugh, leaving the bathroom before I rip my clothes off.

“Love you!” he yells as I shut the door.

“Love you too!”

Food time!

Opening the door to Braydon’s apartment I cringe at the mess. Lane is a pretty neat guy. He likes things in their spot and he has a house keeper that keeps his things in order, dusted, and floors clean. Braydon could afford a house keeper but he’s said on many occasions that he doesn’t trust them not to steal his shit.

Well… he definitely should gain more trust… because this place looks like a college kids dorm.

“Hey!” I say, walking into the kitchen as he cooks bacon without his shirt on. “You’re going to regret that.” I laugh at him, praying it splatters up on his smug ass.

His hot, built, tattooed… smug... cocky… chest.

Fuck, Lane. He just had to get me worked up like that. Shit.

“Nah, never happens to me. I hate clothes, you should know this by now.” He smiles and tosses me an orange. “Here, peel this.”

I shake my head, never a guest in his place but more like a roommate that doesn’t live here. That’s what I like about these boys; I never feel unwelcome when around them. I’ve always felt comfortable and at home with both of them. They are so different in most ways, but both of them care for their friends.

Hard.

“Smells fantastic,” I say, making sure all the white part of the orange is peeled off and thrown away before aligning them on a plate to look like a smiley face. Grinning I slide it over to him and he laughs.

“Nice.”

“I thought so,” I say, grabbing a freshly finished piece of bacon.

“How was the night last night?” He asks, grabbing a cup of coffee and taking mine to refill.

“Meh,” I say, shrugging. “Fine.”

“Hmm..” he hums.

“What?”

“Sounded more than fine after I left.” He’s trying his hardest to say it with a straight face, but the minute I realize what he’s talking about I feel the fire come to my cheeks.

I don’t talk to these boys about my sex life. Never have, and really now that I’m sitting here, him grinning over his cup of coffee at me, it feels just…. weird.

“Oh yea?” I ask, sipping my way too hot coffee just so he doesn’t see the smirk playing on my lips, remembering how well fucked I was when I fell asleep last night.

“Yep. Nice and loud. He lasted longer than I figured he would. Must have been worth it…” The grin on his face makes him way more attractive than he needs to be right now.

“Oh fuck you!” I laugh.

“You guys were so fucking loud! I mean... I’m happy for you two... but seriously, Al! I don’t want to hear that when I’m all alone up here. At least find me a chick or something to do while you two are going at it.”

“Jesus, Bray, you’re so crude.”

“Didn’t sound like you minded crude last night.” He raises an eyebrow and I throw an orange piece at him.

“Jerk,” I say, grinning. I really probably should work on not being so loud, but last night was just too damn good.

“Nah… you know I’m kidding around with you. I’m happy for you two.” He smiles and nods, lifting his coffee cup to hip lips. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“Lane has some shoots we can show up to if he’s feeling good enough. Nothing pressing, nothing too hard, but I’m leaving it up to him.”

“You’re good for him, you know that, Al?”

“Fuck yes I am,” I say, grabbing the bacon off his plate and shoving it in my mouth as he fills our plates with eggs and cheese.

“And you’re so inappropriate,” he grumbles about his bacon but doesn’t bitch about it to me directly. He knows better. I’d kill for bacon. Especially turkey bacon.

“Whelp. This was amazing. I’m taking a plate down for Lane.” Grabbing a fork, I scoop some of Braydon’s food from his mile-high pile on his plate and he grumbles again. Grinning, I slap him on the shoulder, thank him for a good game, then like the boss that I feel like, take my happy, fed ass back downstairs.

He’s right. I’m feeling incredibly inappropriate. Let’s hope Lane’s well rested. I feel like being completely inappropriate with him right now.

“Oh, Lane! I have FOOD!” I’m in a great mood, today’s looking great, the sun is shining, and I’m ready to have a fantastic day after having fantastic sex. Cheery and happy and giddy… until I see him on the floor.

The fucking floor.

“Lane!” Rushing to his side, I notice his eyes are squeezed shut and he’s clutching his stomach.

He groans when I try to sit him up, shaking his head. “Just… stop.” His voice is so pained I almost burst out in tears right then and there. With shaking hands, I grab my phone and text Braydon. I can’t help Lane if he needs to be carried. I can’t… I can’t help him right now.

Oh my God.

“Hey,” he whispers, then reaches his hand out. Taking it, I grasp on to it tightly, not letting him see the shaking of my hands.

“It’s ok, baby. I’m here. It’s ok. Oh my God what happened, Lane?” I let a sob sneak out and feel Braydon’s hand on my shoulder. “You made it down here fast.” I sniffle, not letting go of Lane’s hand.

By now he’s not holding on to his stomach as much and Braydon’s able to help him up while I collect myself. What the hell was that? Does that happen often? What happened?

God, I have so many questions but I can’t bombard him with questions right now.

“There ya go,” Braydon says as he helps Lane into a chair. “What happened, dude?”

Lane huffs and shakes his head, looking at me with pure sadness in his eyes then switching his gaze to Braydon. Something clicks in Braydon’s demeanor and he looks over at me and nods towards the door.

“Hey, Al.. can you uh… can you give us a second?”

“Excuse me?” I bite out, narrowing my eyes at him.

“I asked if you could give us just one minute. That’s all.” He’s getting irritated, but so am I.

“I’m his girlfriend,” I hiss as Braydon ushers me to the kitchen and out of Lane’s sight. “I have just as much right to be here as you do.” I whisper so Lane doesn’t hear us, but I’m seriously about to punch Braydon.

“Jesus Christ, Al. Just… one fucking minute. That man out there is hurting, and men don’t like for the woman they love to see them like that,” Braydon growls, his eyes not leaving mine. The expression of worry lacing his features. “Just give us a minute.”

“He knows me better to know that I don’t care how he looks. I love him, Braydon. I’m not judging him for things out of his control.”

“Jesus, Al! Give me a minute to talk to my best friend. Go out to the fucking hall or something, but I need to talk to him without you in the room!” He boasts, standing taller than ever. “I know you two are so in love it’s puke inducing, but you haven’t left his side and I need time to talk to him. No girlfriends present. So please, just for now, give us a moment.”

Well then.

“One minute,” I whisper. “That’s all you get. I need to be in there with him.” My narrowed eyes mean business. I’m not leaving Lane’s side. I promised that and I stick to my promises.

He sighs and nods, walking back to the living room, leaving me in the kitchen staring at the floor. I could be stubborn and go in there, but I’m not that girl. I’m going to respect his wishes. So I walk out. I’ll give him space. And I sit on the other side of the door, listening to the conversation between the two boys in my life I love most.

“You gotta start opening up, man. What the hell was that?” Braydon’s voice is rough and raw, but forceful. “You didn’t see her face. She’s trying, but if you’re going to block her out at times and let her in at times, it’s best just to let her go. You can’t keep doing this to her.”

He’s… he’s protecting me?

“I know,” Lane huffs. “I love her, man. I love her more than life itself, but I can’t… fuck, dude… I can’t look that weak in front of her.”