I blinked hard at the sudden burn in my eyes. “No.” Leaning, down, I dropped a single, soft kiss to the top of her forehead. “Enough questions for one night. Get some sleep.”
I released her hand and tucked mine behind my head, propping myself up a tiny bit so I could have a better view of her curves against me. Sleep wasn’t part of my immediate plan, not when it meant missing out on this.
Her hand drifted lower, away from the tattoo. I couldn’t stop my abs from contracting when her palm brushed over them. I growled in a mix of satisfaction and frustration. “You know,” my voice was deep, husky, as I whispered to her, “just because I promised to behave, doesn’t mean you have to. Feel free to touch me wherever you want, gorgeous.”
Reese made a little noise in the back of her throat before those slim fingers of hers slid partially under the waistband of my boxer briefs, brushing back and forth over the sensitive skin just inside my hip. I couldn’t help thrusting up a tiny bit, begging her to continue her southward journey. But the little minx retreated, pulled back and snapped the elastic sharply against my skin, and had the gall to laugh at my pained moan.
Then, her pleased grin so big I could see it despite the dimness, that dimple taunting me, she wrapped her arm around my waist, snuggling close and stilling her tormenting movements. “Night, Laird.”
As I replayed the last two minutes in my mind with a very different ending, drifting off was the least of my priorities. But I was wrong. Sleep claimed me soon after her breathing evened out, her heart beating the same tempo as mine.
The dream was both the same as normal and different from before, and it broke me like it did every time.
The hospital was cold, like always, but the little boy sitting in the middle of all the beeping machines wasn’t wearing Eli’s thick glasses. Instead, he stared back at me with the same green eyes I saw in the mirror every morning.
His pale fingers traced the line of tubing that ran from the port in his chest to the pump on the pole next to his bed. “She’s pretty, Laird.” I followed his gaze to the open doorway, where I saw a flash of dark hair and long legs.
Reese.
“I call dibs on that one,” he continued, leaning forward to try to catch another glimpse.
“You can’t,” I said automatically. “She’s mine.”
He smirked, those familiar eyes taunting me. “Does she know that?”
I snorted at his trash talking, and flexed my biceps obnoxiously, putting my guns on full display. “Not yet. But who can resist all this?”
He smiled wistfully. “Will I look like you when I grow up? So I can get a pretty girl too?” The blue veins were visible in his thin arms, and there were scars from so many needle sticks and IVs.
No.
No, he wouldn’t.
Because he’d never grow up.
“Definitely,” I lied. We both knew it was a lie, but I said it anyway, hating the way his eyes dimmed a little.
“Hey, Laird?”
“Yeah, Garrett?”
His face was worried. “She might be out of your league, with legs like that. But don’t give up, okay?”
I scoffed, and if he’d had hair, I would’ve ruffled it. “Are you doubting your big brother? Of course, I’m going to get the girl.”
“Never.” He smiled up at me, lips dry and cracked. “You never let me down.”
But that was the biggest lie of all.
And we both knew it.
Reese
I parked my Honda CR-V three rows back from the nearest car at the hospital, not for the fear that someone would ding my doors, but because there was a big oak tree at the edge of the lot there, and it was one of the only parking spaces in the shade. If this Alabama heat had taught me anything, it was that shade trumps proximity every time. The black leather interior was great, except it could reach temperatures more suitable for baking a cake when left in the sun. I’d almost burned the backs of my thighs right off on my first day in Rodner. Lesson learned. Now, I parked in the shade or covered my seat with a beach towel when I left.
Since it was new, the interior of my car was still spotless inside. My parents wouldn’t dare let me go off to college in anything but the most affordable vehicle on the list of the Safest Small SUVs, according to God knows who. Emphasis on safest. If cancer hadn’t killed me, they sure as hell weren’t going to lose me to a car accident. Their words, not mine. They loved me. And they preferred to show that love via smothering. And hovering. And micromanaging.
In fact, the only way I’d managed to convince them to let me attend Rodner University, the school I settled on both because it had a fantastic drumline and it was geographically the farthest from home, was by threatening to not go to college at all if they refused. And that, to my upper middle-class professional parents, was a fate worse than death by helicopter-parenting.
I scooped the handful of grape lollipops on my passenger seat into my small canvas purse. My morning had been unexpectedly busy. After an early thunderstorm washed out today’s band camp, I’d started the day by cleaning Marco’s dorm room per drumline requirements, then afterward, I’d met Smith for lunch at a small local taco joint. The lollipops were a gift from him.
“Why so many?” I’d questioned, when he dumped five or six in my outstretched palms.
“I was in the bathroom the other day. Ended up at the urinal next to Laird’s. Snuck a peek. Decided you probably needed some more practice sucking before things progressed any more between you two. And since I’m such a good sidekick, I brought some extras to help you out.” He’d nudged me with his elbow. “You’re welcome, Batman.”
“Progressed?” I’d stumbled over the word, my mind still lost in the visual of Laird’s large shaft stretching my lips wide. “What do you mean?”
He’d leveled an exasperated stare at me. “You mean that wasn’t his Wrangler I saw parked in front of your dorm all night long?”
I’d mumbled something about Wranglers being so common, they were fucking everywhere, damn it, like the mosquitoes. I’d hightailed it out of there as quick as I could, my hands full of candy, his laughter following me.
And now I was at the hospital on a whim, desperate to keep myself occupied. The alternative being sitting on my ass in my dorm room with way too much time to think about the fact that I woke up alone this morning, with no note or text from Laird since.
Except for the one he sent to the drumline on behalf of the band director, canceling practice.
And, I told myself for the billionth time, I didn’t need to talk to him. There was nothing to discuss, right? We’d… cuddled. Cuddling didn’t have to mean something. I mean, okay, I’d seen his junk too. In all its massive glory. But so had Smith apparently, so I wasn’t in an exclusive club or anything.
We were cool. No, wait, not we. There was no we.
I didn’t think.
Well, obviously not, because if there was a we, then surely he would’ve stuck around until daybreak, when my alarm alerted me to my utter aloneness.
By the time I reached Eli’s room, I’d shoved Laird and his big wiener to the far corner of my mind, in a box I’d mentally duct-taped shut.
Knocking lightly in case he was sleeping, I pushed open the door and peeked inside. “Eli?”
“Reese! You came back! Did you bring the tattoos?” Eli shoved his thick glasses up his nose and practically vibrated with excitement.
Sitting on the hard, plastic sofa next to the bed was a thin lady with equally thick glasses who had the same eyes as Eli. There was no doubt from the resemblance this was anyone other than his mom. Plus, she eyed me warily, with the look every mom of every pediatric cancer patient watched someone new approaching their child. “They’re temporary, I promise, Mrs. Wagner,” I reassured her and introduced myself.
“Mo-o-o-o-om,” Eli begged. “It’s okay, isn’t it?”
She smiled indulgently at him once she realized I wasn’t here to poke and prod. “Of course, darling. I bet Amelia will love them.” Eli blushed and mumbled something under his breath. Rising from the sofa, she squeezed my arm on her way out. “I was wanting some coffee anyway. I’ll leave you two to visit. And, Reese, call me Melissa. Mrs. Wagner is my mother-in-law.” As she reached the door, she turned around, mouthed thank you, and pointed at Eli.