I hate that she seems so brittle even though I’m the one who pushed the research about fasting at her doctor. I can’t regret it though…I will never regret doing everything I can to fight for her life. Taking her face between my hands, I search for any tightness around her eyes or tension in her mouth that hints at her being in pain or feeling unwell. “You look happy. Today has been good?”
“So good.” She wraps her fingers around mine.
“Yeah? What did you get up to?”
She takes a seat on the edge of my desk. When the treatments work… when she’s healthy again, I’ll take her to the best eateries in the city and buy her all her favorite comfort foods. I’ll even take her to thatPink Bitsbakery and buy her a whole box of those overly detailed dick pops. We’ll do a food tour. I’ll take her to other states just to try the best restaurants they boast.
“Hung out with a friend. Talked to America. Worked on a bucket list.” Each item makes her smile grow.
“You’ve been busy.” Occupied. Keeping herself from sinking into the emotions that drag her down after dinner with her family. I’ve caught her alone and crying on the balcony in the middle of the night too. It bothers me. The doctors warned us that she could become depressed. Go through a mental journey. Possibly even go through personality changes. They suggested end of life counselling. I should bring it up again. But not now while she’s having a great day. “What’s on your bucket list?”
She shrugs. “I’m still working on it.”
“I hope it’s nothing dangerous, like skydiving.” It’s a joke, but it’s not. I mean it. There’s no way she can go skydiving.
She laughs like it’s funny, but her mouth purses and I’m not entirely sure she isn’t about to tell me that’s at the top of her list. She tucks a tendril of hair behind her ear while my heart holds its beat. “Nothing like that. Kissing in the rain is on my list.”
My hand is shaking as I scratch under my ear. “I’ve never seen the appeal to standing outside and getting drenched for something that can be held off until we’re warm and dry.”
“Really?” She leans in and touches my chest. Curls her fingers in the cotton of my button down and brings me nearer. “You don’t see the appeal in wanting someone so desperately that you don’t even notice those big, fat drops hitting you?”
I reach out and touch her jaw as parts of me stir to life. “Well, I—”
Her knees fall apart to accommodate my hips. Tilting her chin, she eradicates the distance between our mouths until there’s only an inch. Swallows. Her voice turns husky. “You don’t care that you’re wet or cold.”
“You hate when it’s cold.” She always tells me that while she shoves her toes under my thigh or rubs the warmth back into her fingers.
“That’s not the point.” She pinches my ribs playfully. “You could be in the Arctic for all it matters. Because the only thing that you notice is how much you want that other person.”
My nerves are on fire with the need to touch her. My breathing accelerates as she trails her hand down the buttons on my shirt until it meets my belt.
“How much you need to get closer to them.” She tugs me forward and my brain stutters. I can feel her heat pressed against my aching hard-on. Her lips graze my ear and my cheek on the way to my mouth. “Feel them.”
Our lips press and brush. Her lips part and she nibbles my bottom lip. I lean into the kiss, the need for intimacy overtaking thought.
We’ve made out more than once on top of this desk, and she tucks her legs around mine like she did those times, locking our bodies together. We’re not the kind of people who can’t control themselves in a public setting, but my office has always felt semi-private, especially when everyone else has left for the night.
She reaches for the buckle on my belt. “Gray…”
I pretend I don’t hear her plea and kiss her like it’s enough. I want it to be enough. It isn’t. Not by a long shot. I’m breathing hard, and harder still between her thighs. I’ve never been afraid of my size. Of the strength of my hands on her skin. Of the marks that I could leave.
But she’s fragile as glass. The drugs mean she bleeds and bruises more easily.
“Gray.” She tries again. “It’s been weeks.”
“It hasn’t.” I went down on her that night after she took off from dinner with her family. That was…
“It’s been weeks.” She clasps my face between her palms. Her gaze is sad and determined and hopeful at the same time. She blinks and there’s a sheen to her eyes. “I miss you.”
“I’m right here.” I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to get through this. You’re going to get better.”
“Don’t.” She covers my chest above where my heart beats. She must feel it racing and booming at the same time. Her mouth makes odd shapes like the words get stuck in her throat before they can be finalized. “Don’t hang all your hopes on what could be.”
I have to. Anything else is admitting defeat, and I can’t do that. “But—”
“I miss you now.” Her voice and the way she’s looking at me tears me up inside. “I miss us. I’m scared of dying, but I’m more scared of not spending this time we do have with you. Please, Gray.”
“I didn’t mean for you to feel like I’m pulling away.” I blink back the pain that rips through me.
