Laird
“Video game design? Really?” Eli’s glasses framed huge green eyes that squinted at me in disbelief. Or maybe they looked so big because he was twenty pounds underweight for an eight-year-old. Or maybe because the hospital bed we were sitting on seemed like an island, an oasis of blankets and pillows surrounded by an ocean of machines and monitors and equipment that no kid his age should even know existed.
“Yeah, Tuesdays and Thursdays at,” I exaggerated my wince for his benefit, “nine in the morning. Ugh.” I clutched my chest and fell back at the horror of such an early hour.
He didn’t so much as blink at my theatrics. “What else?”
“Human Centered Computing, Data Mining and Analysis, Medical Psychology, and the second Anatomy and Physiology. I think I get to dissect a pig or something this semester. Want me to bring pictures?”
His smile stretched from ear to ear. “Hell, yeah.”
I glanced quickly at the door for any sign of his parents. “Watch it, buddy.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m old enough to have cancer, but not old enough to cuss. Which is bullshit if you ask me.”
I silently agreed.
“But, seriously, why video game design? That one doesn’t seem to fit with everything else.”
“Little man, are you doubting me? I can totally make a kickass video game.”
“Look, Laird, I don’t know how to break it to you, but you’re kind of a nerd. Like, too nerdy for video games, even.”
“I am not!” I was genuinely offended. “I’m totally cool. Need I remind you I’m the captain of the Rodner University Drumline?” I said the last three words slowly, because if there was one thing Eli lived for, it was Rodner football and anything associated with it. “If that doesn’t give me legit cool points, then you’re out of your mind.”
“More like out of my white cells,” he joked, collapsing onto his pillow in laughter.
This kid. He was the best part of my week—even better than the performance high of a halftime show during a home game—and I always spent most of my time in his room during my visits. Other guys probably wouldn’t consider hanging out on the pediatric cancer ward their idea of a fun afternoon, but it’d been part of my life for so long, I hadn’t been able to stop coming when it was no longer necessary.
“Alright, so tell me the good stuff. You got a chick yet?”
“Ha!” I scoffed. “Why tie myself down like that?” But it didn’t stop my mind from wandering back to the drumline party a few nights ago. How I’d helped Reese back to her dorm room. How I’d found a washcloth and cleaned off her face the best I could. How I’d somehow managed to get that crazy strappy bra off her from behind, without once giving into temptation and sneaking a peek—or a handful—of her tits, because the first time I saw them—and it would happen—I wanted it to be because she wanted it too.
So maybe I’d stayed with her a few hours, making sure she didn’t puke or need anything. Maybe I’d snuck out of her room at 4:30 in the morning, finally convinced she’d be okay, but wished I could’ve stayed longer just to watch her sleep. And maybe she didn’t seem to remember any of it the next day, staring at me blankly during warm-ups. No softening in her expression, no mouthed thank you, no pulling me aside to acknowledge my help.
Yeah, that realization had burned and festered in my gut, but I wouldn’t have changed a moment of it. Because, for the first time in a long time, I’d liked the responsibility of looking after someone other than myself. But more than anything, I’d liked looking after her.
“Because,” Eli drew out the word like I was an idiot for not understanding the obvious, “Dad said you can’t get any action with a girl until she’s your girlfriend.”
Well. Not technically true, but also not a point I wanted to disagree with his dad on in front of Eli, either. “What do you know about ‘getting some action?’” I arched an eyebrow at him. “You got your sights set on a babe somewhere?”
He blushed all the way to the top of his bald head, and looked around to make sure the room was empty. “There’s this new girl on the floor, osteosarcoma, and, Laird… she sets off my heart monitor. It starts going really fast and I watched it the other day, the line jumped funny and Mom got scared, but the nurse said it was just a skipped beat.” He paused, his eyes unfocused behind the thick blue plastic frames. “I want her to make it skip more.”
I wrapped an arm around him and tugged him gently to my side, careful of his wires and tubes, to hide the way he was breaking my damn heart. This kid. This fucking kid. I think he knew more about love and life at age eight than I did at twenty-two. “What’s her name, bud?”
“Amelia. Isn’t that the best name ever?”
I nodded, although he couldn’t see it with his head against my chest. “It is. It really is.”
He pushed me away, his thin shoulders set with determination. “So you gotta teach me. She’s a year older than me, and I need some game so I can get her. I think Jaxon across the hall has his eyes on her too.” He scowled. “He’s only Stage II, so he gets more time in the game room with her.”
My forehead wrinkled like I was heavy in thought. But, really, what was I supposed to tell him? The kid was eight and trapped in a hospital for the foreseeable future.
A flash of yellow passing the open doorway—the ripple of a dress over textbook perfect curves—caught my attention and we both craned our necks for a longer look.
“Damn, Laird,” Eli whispered. “Did you see those legs?”
I raised my eyebrows, although I had to agree with his assessment of the glimpse of thigh I’d seen. “What happened to Amelia?”
“Amelia’s a babe. But her legs don’t look like that.” He said it matter-of-factly, giving me a shove toward the door. “Go look. Maybe take a pic on your phone. Quick, before she’s gone!”
Humoring him, I ambled toward the doorway, making a show of pulling my phone out of my back pocket and wiggling it at him. “Be right back.”
“I call dibs!”
I stepped out into the hall and looked to the right, the direction the legs had been headed.
At the nurses’ station in the middle of the floor, five doors down from where I hovered in the doorway, were the sexiest legs I’d seen all summer, peeking out from beneath a yellow sundress.
But what the fuck was Reese doing here, on the pediatric cancer wing?
I eased down the hall, both Eli and the phone in my hand forgotten. Her dark hair was pulled back in some kind of loose braid, and her bare arms were tan from all our practices in the sun this week. Eavesdropping shamelessly, I caught the tail end of her conversation with Martha, my favorite nurse.
“… so, Wednesday mornings would be good?” Reese asked, glancing down to check something on her phone. “I could do that. At least this semester.”
Martha smiled and reached out to squeeze Reese’s hand, happiness smoothing the multitude of wrinkles etched into her face. Fuck knows, Martha didn’t have a lot to smile about on this floor, but she was always quick to share a grin with the patients and crack a joke. Cancer humor was dark, and it took a special person to embrace it, to understand why it was so desperately needed sometimes.
“And you said something about music?”
Reese nodded. “It worked out well for me back home. Bringing in drumsticks and letting them beat their pillows—or the side rails of the beds, if y’all don’t mind the noise.”
Martha winked. “Depends whose shift it is. I wouldn’t mind though.”
“Do y’all have a group activity room? Or do you prefer one-on-one in the patient rooms? I’m comfortable doing either.” She paused, set down her phone, and rubbed her upper arms. She was probably cold in that dress. The hospital was always freezing. “To be honest, I feel like I get better results doing it one-on-one, but I’m flexible to whatever works best for you guys.”
“Honey, if you’re offering to help, we’ll take it any way we can get it. If one day, you want to do a group activity, do that. If you want to meet them and have solo time, that’s great too. I’m just pleased as punch you want to be here.” Martha caught sight of me over Reese’s shoulder, and her coffee-colored eyes twinkled at me. “In fact, here’s just the young man to show you around. Do you mind, Laird?”
At the mention of my name, Reese’s spine straightened until I worried it would snap. She turned around slowly, almost suspiciously, as if she was hoping it wasn’t really me standing there.
No lie… that hurt.
But I pushed it away. I was more interested in the why behind her visit today. Did she know I came here? Was she somehow following me?
Snagging her elbow in a loose grip, I pulled her to my side, and then tossed my arm around her shoulders. “No worries, Martha. I got it from here.” I tipped my chin at her, and not-so-calmly guided Reese down the hall to a vacant alcove near Eli’s room.
Irritation and morbid curiosity warred inside me. While I was flattered she put in the effort to locate me here, of all the places in Rodner she could track me down, this was my thing. The part of my weekly routine that had actual meaning. And as hot as I found her sexy little body, and as much as her smart mouth seduced me, nobody followed me to my place.
Dropping my arm, I spun her to face me none too gently. “What are you doing here, Reese Holland?” I demanded bluntly.
She rubbed her arms again, and, sure enough, there were goose bumps. I nudged her a foot to the left, so she wasn’t standing directly under the chill of the vent, ignoring the instinct to take her in my arms and warm her up. Glowering at her, I waited impatiently for her response.
“What are you doing here?” She threw my own words back at me.
“I come here every week to spend time with the kids,” I answered steadily. “You?”
Reese shivered, and looked down the hall both directions, then at her feet. Anywhere but me. Biting back a growl of frustration, I took her chin in my thumb and forefinger and lifted it until she had no choice but to meet my eyes.
And I paused.
Her coffee-colored gaze was wary, not triumphant. Shadowed with hidden secrets, not blazing with righteous indignation.
This was not the Reese I was used to.
I stepped closer, crowding her back against the wall. Softening my voice, I asked again, “Why are you here, Reese?”
Wrenching her chin from my grasp, she stood tall and squared her shoulders, her breasts brushing my chest with the action.
“I’m sorry,” she clipped out, “but I didn’t know I had to explain myself to you. Hell, I certainly didn’t expect to find you at the children’s hospital.” She slipped out past me, her body rubbing against mine in the process, and put several steps between us. I burned where she’d touched me. “Now, do you have time to show me the activity room? If not, I’m sure I can find it myself.”
“Laird!” It was Eli, his voice carrying down the hall. “Who’s the hottie? Remember, I have dibs!”
Reese cocked her head, eyebrows raised, a questioning smile teasing the corner of her full lips. Her whole countenance changed, morphing from annoyance to intrigued. “He called dibs, huh? Sounds like I better go meet him.”
Before I could stop her, she’d waltzed right into his room, and by the time I followed, she was already perched on his bed, in my spot, rubbing the sanitizing foam on her hands.
I leaned against the doorway, frowning, unwilling for some reason to leave her alone with my favorite patient. Or maybe I was just unwilling to leave her alone, period.
“Hi. I’m Reese. What’s your name, hot stuff?”
“Eli.” Oh fuck. He was already blushing.
“Hey, Eli. What’s a handsome guy like you doing in a place like this?”
“Leukemia. Stage III.”
“How’s that going for you?” She asked it in the same way she’d asked someone what day it was, instead of the syrupy, sad puppy dog way I expected. Reese held her body loosely, at ease with herself, the exact opposite of most visitors to these sterile hallways, the ones whose hesitant, awkward movements always reminded me of giraffes learning to walk for the first time.
He shrugged. “Better this month than last.” He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear. “There’s a cute new girl down the hall. Can you help me make her my girlfriend?” Less than five minutes and I was already being replaced.
“I can try.” Reese nodded slowly. “What have you already tried?”
“Nothing.”
“Doing nothing is generally not the best way to get the girl.”
“It works for Laird.” Eli pointed at me. “He said he doesn’t have to do anything. Girls are just always there.”
Reese’s eyes pinned me on the spot and her voice was flat. “Does he now?”
Was it wishful thinking, or was there jealousy heating her brown eyes? I had the good sense to look away, pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Right, Laird?” Eli’s voice rose with his enthusiasm. “You said you just have to look a little bit scruffy, because girls like bad boys, and smell good, and that’s all there really is to it. Bam! Instant girl magnet!”
I didn’t remember saying it quite like that, but he was in the ballpark of the conversation from one of my last visits.
Reese’s gaze flitted over the monitors, studying the numbers, and I wondered if any of them made sense to her. Beyond the obvious things, like pulse and blood pressure, I couldn’t usually make sense of what they all did.
“Well,” Reese mused. “I was going to suggest maybe writing her a poem, but if Laird’s the expert, how can we make you look like a bad boy instead?”
Eli snickered. “If I go to her room, my ass will be hanging out of my gown. Does that count?”
Her wide eyes ping-ponged between us, and I grinned. “Eli is a bit of a rebel if you couldn’t tell yet.”
“What about if I brought you some temporary tattoos? Girls love ink. And Laird has a tattoo, you could be like him.”
Eli stared at me like I was his hero. I was nobody’s hero. “You do?” The awe in his voice had me wincing.
“Yeah, buddy. I have two.”
“And the girls like it?”
I started to nod my agreement, but paused, a devious smile edging up the corner of my lips. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Reese?”
“Reese, do you like his tattoos?”
If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under from the withering glare she shot me. Turning back to Eli, she shrugged indifferently. “They’re okay.”
“Where are they?”
“On his chest,” she replied before I could speak up.
He thought about it for a second, his mind working overtime on her answer, and I knew he was smart enough to figure it out. “You’ve seen his chest?”
I loved this kid.
The blush started at the top of her dress and crept up her neck, all the way to her cheeks. Something about her neck made me crazy. I wanted to nibble her there. Learn what kind of noise she would make if I kissed the tender spot on the edge of her jawline. If I licked a slow path to her ear. If I sucked hard and plunged deep inside her wet core at the same time. I wanted to leave a mark there, purpling her flesh, marking her as mine for the world to see.
“What about if I bring some tattoos in next week when I visit again? Will your girl still be here?”
Eli nodded, his smile stretching as wide as I’d ever seen it.
She was good with him, I hated to admit.
“Alright, handsome. I have to go right now, but I’ll be back on Wednesday morning, okay? It’s a date.” She tapped the tip of his nose and headed out the door, ignoring me altogether.
I muttered a hasty goodbye to Eli, and chased after her. By the time I caught her, the elevator doors were parting, ready to whisk her away from me.
“Why are you really here?” I just couldn’t let it go.
She stepped on and I copied her, refusing to let her put any significant distance between us. “Is it a problem with drumline? I’m doing this on my own time, and I won’t let it interfere.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and I couldn’t help but notice the way it emphasized her boobs.
From where I stood, I could just see the tiniest bit of cleavage down the top of her dress. I followed the edge of the yellow cotton with my eyes, until I got to where that pale pink scar of hers peeked out.
I frowned. I didn’t like the idea that she’d been hurt, even if it was a long time ago. I rubbed the same spot on my chest, and my breath stopped in realization.
She wasn’t here because of me.
The elevator doors opened. I didn’t move. Neither did she. They closed again, and we started rising.
My mind was racing, trying desperately to come up with any other explanation than the one I feared.
But I knew. Deep down, I knew. Her comfort level in this environment. The way she hadn’t blinked at his diagnosis. And that scar. That fucking scar that gave her away if you knew what to look for. Going with my gut, I asked her softly, “Is it because you had cancer?”
“What?” Her hand flew to her chest, to her scar, rubbing it almost absentmindedly. A dead giveaway to my knowing eye. “Why would you think that?”
I put my hand on top of hers, linking our fingers, tracing the raised mark with her. “It’s from a chemo port, not a car accident.” I swallowed hard. “Isn’t it?”
Her eyes clenched tightly and her hand curled beneath mine. I wanted her to tell me I was wrong, that I was seeing things that weren’t really there, that she had never suffered like all those kids upstairs. She took a long breath, exhaled just as slowly, then braced her feet as if readying herself for a battle. When she opened her eyes, they glimmered with resolve and determination. “That was a long time ago. I’m fine now.” She dropped her hand and mine fell away. I felt oddly bereft at the loss of her touch.
And then her words hit like a sledgehammer, almost knocking me down.
She’d had cancer.
If I’d been wearing one of those heart monitors like Eli, alarms would be flashing and nurses would be running. I ran my frantic gaze over every inch of her body as if I could detect any lingering malignancy with my eyes alone. My words were rushed, tumbling over each other in their hurry to get out. “Are you sure drumline is a good idea? All the hours? The heat? The workouts? Fuck, the drinking…?”
I reached for her, but she pushed me away, pushed past me and stabbed the button that would take her back to the parking lot.
“Laird. Listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once.” The steel in her voice forced my attention back to her face. “If cancer didn’t kill me, do you really think drumline will?”
The elevator doors closed before I could answer.