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.
Reese
Marco caught my arm as I walked into Boldt Auditorium, stopping me from following Smith down the hall to the storage room where we kept the marching snares. I tugged sharply at my elbow to free it, but he held on tight, his fingers digging into my bicep almost hard enough to leave a bruise.
“Woah there, hotshot. Practice doesn’t start for another ten minutes, and I need to have a quick word with you.”