Game Changer (10 page)

He shook his head, chuckling again. She threw her head back and laughed until tears appeared at the corners of her eyes again. “I'm sorry, but that's funny. We were a disaster. Who knew?”

They shared a smile, and then she rested her head on his shoulder. “We were so good at kissing.”

He pressed his lips to her hair. “I love the way you kiss.”

She turned her face in and nuzzled her nose against his shirt. “I love the way you kiss, too.”

Then she burst out laughing again. Brandon indulged, too, because it was all so absurd. And then he glanced down at her cleavage and remembered about the cancer. His heart sank.

“Hey, I'm going to kill the mood here, but I need to know what your doctor told you today. Please. That was part of why I was having trouble staying hard, worrying about you. Like it or not, I've been part of this BRCA1 journey with you since the beginning. I deserve to know.”

She pushed off from the wall and hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “Let's start moving toward our cars and I'll tell you on the way.”

“Fair enough.”

He helped Harper put her pants on and right her clothes. In companionable silence, they collected their belongings and skating gear from the team bench, then walked through the snack bar to the side exit the employees used.

He thought about taking her hand as they walked—they had just slept together, after all—but something had shifted. Touching wasn't going to be their thing anymore. Probably never again.

“Okay, spill it,” he prompted in the parking lot after he'd double-checked that the Iceplex door was locked behind them.

Her gaze dropped to her feet as they walked. “The doctors found a shadow on my right breast, but it's not big enough to be biopsied. It might be cancer or it might be nothing. They gave me another mammogram this morning and some other tests, but the long and short of it is that I've finally reached the fork in the road that I was dreading, and I have to figure out which way I'm going to go. I have the weekend to decide what to do.”

Oh, man. His heart ached for her. “Your choices are what?”

She ran through them, all of them terrible. Only one of them made any sense, and it was the same choice he'd been pressuring her to make for five years.

“You've got to get the surgery, Harper. The double mastectomy. You can't keep taking chances like that with your health.”

“Disfiguring themselves didn't save the other women in my family. The risk will still be there.”

“The risk will be exponentially smaller.”

“But it will still be there. It will always be there.” She stopped walking and turned toward him, her face long and pensive. This time, the tears that threatened weren't happy ones. “And, Brandon, I'm so scared.”

Touching wasn't a part of their relationship anymore, but he still found himself pulling her into a hug. “I'm scared for you. And now I hate that I'm leaving on Monday.”

She dropped her head to his chest. “We can still be friends, right?”

“I hope so. Friends are what we should have been all along, I'm afraid.”

She looked up at him, a sad smile on her lips. “You're right. I wish you weren't, but you are.”

“Someday you're going to find someone who'll beg you to put that ball and chain on his leg. A guy who thinks the perfect way to spend the rest of his life is shackled to you inside your brick fortress.” Which was about the worst idea Brandon had ever heard.

“And you're not that guy. You've been trying to tell me that for a long time.”

“I'm not. Life's too short to beg.”

She studied his face. “I believe you now. I'm sorry I tried to turn you into someone you're not.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry I tried to turn you into a fuck buddy.”

With a melancholy smile, she chucked his chin. “You're such a romantic. Those prospective brides on
Meet the Groom
are some lucky ladies.”

He hugged her tighter, then released his hold on her, though he didn't want to. He really was scared for her. “Promise me you'll let me know what you decide to do about the shadow.”

“I will. I promise. You were right; you've been a part of my BRCA1 journey from the beginning. I feel better having told you about what's going on with it now.”

“Good. I'm glad about that. You can talk to me anytime. I'll only be a phone call away.” Even though he couldn't imagine it. Them, chatting on the phone. Friends. Weird.

That was going to take some getting used to. They started walking toward her car again.

“Are you going to my good-bye party tomorrow at Duke's lake house?”

“I wouldn't miss it,” she said.

They stopped at her car. He held her skates while she fished her keys from her purse. “How are you getting there? It'd be cool to drive together so we can hang out one last time before I leave.”

“I'd love that, but I already accepted a ride from Presley and Marc.”

“My car seats four,” he said. “See if they'd mind carpooling.”

“Will do.”

An uncomfortable silence descended as he considered what to do next. Kiss her? Hug her? He couldn't decide and apparently she couldn't either, because she groaned under her breath and broke the ice with a muttered, “So awkward.”

They shared one last chuckle, embracing the awkward. Then Brandon figured
what the hell
, and kissed her cheek. “If it's okay with Presley, then I'll meet you and Presley at Locks tomorrow morning. Good night.”

He was halfway to his car when she called to him. She waited for him to turn around before saying, “I'm going to miss wanting you.”

What a strange thing to say, but it was so true. “I'm going to miss wanting you, too. I know it's crazy, but I've been frustrated and resentful toward you for so many years, I kind of don't know what to do now. There's a hole, you know? It would be like if Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote brokered a peace agreement. Then what would they do with their time? What would they think about? I don't know how else to explain it. I feel a little lost.”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “Yeah. I feel it, too.”

“We'll get over it.”

“We'll have to,” she said. “We're friends now.”

He looked into the distance. Jesus, friends. As if he'd ever had any platonic female friends. With a huff, he shook his head. “Good night, Harper.”

When he reached his car, he looked over his shoulder at her and found her watching him. She gave him a little wave, then started her engine. He didn't drop into his driver's seat until she'd left the lot. Still, he stared at the space where her car disappeared over the bridge.

How could he leave Destiny Falls now? He hadn't been giving her a line about him being a part of her BRCA1 journey. He took that seriously. He'd been lulled into a false sense of security about her health over the years but, watching her walk away, knowing that she might have the earliest stages of the same cancer that killed all the other women in her family scared him witless.

Despite that he'd told her he wanted a clean break when he left for Miami, his instinct was telling him that he needed to stay in her life, especially if she had cancer. Maybe time and distance would fix his feelings. Maybe. But he couldn't imagine letting her go through a major surgery and possibly chemo without his support, while he frolicked under the Miami sun.

He didn't know what the future held for her, or for him. All he knew was that neither of their lives would ever be the same again after this weekend.

Presley's fiancé, Marc, was a pretentious moron, which was nothing new to Harper. The silver lining about carpooling with Presley and Marc, who sat in the back seat of Brandon's sporty sedan, was that at least Marc's douchebaggery kept Harper from feeling awkward around Brandon.

For the most part, they'd all had to keep quiet so Marc could field call after important call with other lawyers at his firm. Because, ya know, his work was so time sensitive and important, as he reminded them more than once. Mostly, it was a relief for everyone involved when Brandon's car pulled to a stop in front of Duke's lake house, an unassuming forest-green and brown two-story with a driveway jammed with cars of every make and model. Looked like the party was in full swing.

Duke's lake house was nothing out of the ordinary. Three bedrooms, a small kitchen, and a cozy living room done up in bear and log cabin décor. What made the house special, besides the owners, was the multi-tiered, sprawling wooden deck out back with the uninhibited view of Lake Ontario. The perfect setting for a party, and Duke had hosted plenty of those over the years.

By lunchtime, Duke and Liam were busy at the grill frying up dogs and burgers. Golden oldies played through stereo speakers that had been set up next to a long table covered with a white table cloth and holding a dizzying array of alcohol, red cups, and blue napkins—a perfect patriotic theme for a bon voyage party being held for one of Bomb Squad's all-American heroes.

The sun was shining and the lake was sparkling. It was the perfect day for Harper to forget her troubles and relax along with some of her closest friends, if only her brain would shut off and stop going over and over her impossible choices.

She sat on the midlevel deck on a lounge chair, soaking in the sun with a drink in her hand, trying to coax an uncharacteristically quiet Presley into conversation. When she gave up, Harper decided to try her hand at conversing with Marc, who sat on Presley's other side, typing on his phone.

“How's work, Marc?” Harper said.

“Hmm?” He didn't look up.

“Work. How's it going? Taking the courts by storm?” Harper said with more forced cheeriness.

“It's stressful but good. I was slammed with a new case last week. Writing a rebuttal to a deposition for a high-profile case on short notice. Let me tell you, making partner isn't all it's cracked up to be.”

Presley seemed proud. She stroked his arm. “Marc works harder than anyone else I know. You awe me with your dedication and the way you can focus all the time. You're so single-minded and passionate about your job.”

He looked up at her, his expression apologetic. “It's a gift and a curse.”

“Yes,” Presley said quietly. “You're right about that.”

Marc made hound-dog eyes at her, then returned his attention to his phone. But after a few more quiet minutes, on a whoosh of an exhale, he put his phone in his pocket. “Enough with the emails. I can handle this work stuff tonight after you go to bed. Today's about us.”

“That's good.” Presley sipped her cocktail, her focus on the lake.

It'd been clear from the moment they'd arrived at Locks that morning that there was trouble in paradise. There had been from the beginning, but it'd been easy to overlook their incompatibilities because he was a charmer. Presley was high-maintenance, and so she needed a man who liked high-maintenance. Even though Marc had seemed to be that guy at first, all it'd taken was a promotion for him to demote her to second place in his life.

Harper took Presley's hand. “Let's go see what Marlena and Olivia are up to. They're inside talking to Donna.”

Presley squeezed her hand, then drained her drink. “Sounds good. Let's get out of here.”

They had one leg in the door when someone whistled to get everyone's attention. Harper and Presley angled for a view of the lower level, where Kayla stood on the raised platform that housed the barbecue. “I'm going on a hike, if anyone wants to join me.”

Presley groaned. “These shoes don't hike.”

Harper considered joining Kayla, because she'd never really explored Lake Ontario, but she didn't want to abandon Presley.

Then Duke's booming voice came over the speakers, making everyone jump. He was holding a microphone. “If you stay, then you're taking a turn on the karaoke machine. You want food, you've got to work for it and I could use some entertainment while I'm barbecuing.”

A crowd of people assembled behind Kayla so fast it looked like she was leading an exodus out of a war zone.

All of a sudden, Harper was properly motivated. “I'm going to go, Presley. I'm sure we could find you some more comfortable shoes to wear.”

Presley sighed and looked back at the midlevel deck, where Marc was talking on the phone again. “You know, I think I'm going to demand that he talk to me, for real. Not just look at me while he thinks about work. Now might be a good time, if most everyone is leaving.”

Harper hugged her. “Good luck.”

Walking to the lower deck, Harper caught Allison's eye, where she stood next to Donna and Theo, playing with her daughter, Emily. “You should come with us, Donna. And Allison, I think Emily might have fun, too.”

“I think I'll stay here and take my chances at karaoke,” Theo said with a wink.

Okay.
She'd never taken him as a fan of karaoke performances, but whatever. “Allison? Donna?”

“Oh, we're fine here, thanks,” Donna said with a dismissive wave. Donna, who always wore her white hair in a bun and adorned her soft, rounded figure with an impressive collection of tunics and leggings, was Duke's wife and one of the nicest, sweetest ladies Harper had met. After raising three children, she kept busy in her garden and playing bridge. Harper had always wondered if she and Duke were mismatched, with his alpha soldier personality, but the pair never seemed anything but happy together.

The troop set off along a dirt path along the lake with Kayla in the lead and most of the party guests following, save for the hardcore karaoke fans and the a couple of the Bomb Squad players who wore prosthetic feet and didn't feel comfortable traipsing over the uneven ground, unlike Brandon, who seemed perfectly at home on the trail.

“Hey,” Brandon said to Harper as they walked. “This is weird. We're hiking.”

“I know. I kinda felt like Duke wanted to get rid of us all for a little while.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Your foot's okay with this, the terrain and all?” Harper asked.

“Yeah. I wore my Invictus foot, which is my everyday foot, and it's pretty stable. If I start feeling uncomfortable or off balance, I can always turn around. And it beats karaoke.

“You can say that again.”

They followed a slim dirt path around the curve of the water. Harper found herself equally fascinated by the majestic lake and she peeked into the backyards and through the windows of the houses they passed. Some looked as tiny as postage stamp cottages while others had been remodeled into palaces.

Marlena, Liam, and Olivia bumped along through the crowd, while up front, Kayla frolicked and bounded ahead, reminding Harper of a puppy.

About a mile into their walk, Harper snapped her gaze forward at the sound of a joyous squeal. She saw Kayla pointing to a grand house at the top of a grassy hill from an expensive-looking private launch ramp and dock that jutted out into the lake. “Oh my God, I forgot about that place.”

“What's so special about it?” Brandon asked.

It looked like a nice house, but then, they'd seen a lot of nice houses on their walk.

“When I was a kid, the people who owned that house never used it. Like, never. But they kept their indoor pool heated, even in the winter.”

“How did you know that if they were never there?” Harper asked.

A sly smile spread on her lips. “Because I also discovered that they kept a spare key under a flower pot near their front door.”

In a flash, Kayla's phone was to her ear. “Hi, Grandpa. No, I'm fine. Quick question. Do the Hamiltons still own the house with the private dock?” She nodded and gave them a thumbs-up. “No reason. Just curious. It's been a long time since I've had a look around up here. Thanks, Grandpa!”

She found Harper in the crowd. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

“Depends. Are you thinking, why did I go on this hike when I could be sitting in a lounge chair with a glass of wine listening to karaoke?”

Olivia snickered. “Ditto. You read my mind.”

Kayla rolled her eyes. “You're too young to be that old. It's time for a swim break. Come on, everybody!”

“You don't have a swimsuit,” Olivia called after her.

But Kayla didn't seem to hear Olivia's statement. She bounded up the grassy hill, pulling off her shirt.

“I don't think Kayla's worried about that,” Marlena muttered.

Harper gaped at Kayla in disbelief until one of the guys made a sound of horror. She turned to see all the men staring at the lake.

“I'm out,” Gabe said, holding his prosthetic arm up as though in surrender. “See you back at Duke's house. Hold up, Will. I'm coming with you.”

Harper followed Gabe's gaze along the trail in the direction they'd come to see Will fleeing the scene at top speed.

“Same here,” came a chorus of guys, who were moving as fast as if Duke had been there pointing a shotgun at them.

Harper swung her attention to her girlfriends.

Marlena shrugged. “I'm in. I love skinny-dipping.” She threw her arms around Liam. “Sorry, honey, but girls only,” she purred. “But I'll find out where that spare key is in case we want to come back tonight.”

Liam grabbed her ass, because he was always grabbing Marlena's ass. “Have fun, babe.”

Harper wasn't precisely jealous of Marlena and Liam, because she didn't understand what made Liam tick or what Marlena saw in him. But she was envious of what they had—the easy touching, the banter, the deep connection that existed beyond outsiders' understanding.

Marlena gave him a peck on the cheek, then grabbed Olivia's hand and urged her toward the Hamiltons' house. “Come with me. Live a little.”

Brandon snagged Harper's arm. “Marlena's right. Go swim. Live a little. I'll stay here as a lookout. Make sure no one bugs you all.”

“Same here,” Liam said.

Harper bristled inwardly at Brandon's assumption that she would have chosen not to swim if he hadn't coaxed her to. Was she really such a fuddy duddy? Kayla's words echoed in her mind.
You're too young to be that old.

Kayla was right. “I was planning on it. It's been years since I've gone skinny-dipping, but I used to love to. Plus, I've always wanted to check out Marlena's knockers.”

“They're world-class knockers,” Liam deadpanned without missing a beat.

Kayla's clothes had been left where she dropped them as she took off each piece. Harper followed the trail of fabric to the Hamiltons' sunroom, where Kayla and Marlena were already immersed in the water. The room itself was a masterpiece of Spanish tile inlaid with bright blues and yellows. The pool deck was lined with tropical plants and lounge chairs, and the steam from the pool rose up and clouded the walls of glass. The air was thick with heat and steam, transforming the experience into something exotic, as though they were on a private tropical island.

Olivia was perhaps the most modest of all Harper's friends. As she reached behind her to unclasp her bra, Harper turned away and busied herself with her own clothes. It'd been a long, long time since she'd been naked in front of anyone but a lover, and even that had been a while. This, with her friends, was something brand new. Maybe because of that, because of the illicitness of being nude with a group of women for no purpose other than to let loose and have fun in a pool, no men in sight, the experience was exhilarating in its freedom.

Harper quickly shed her dress and undergarments. She turned toward the pool, her pulse beating fast and a wide smile on her face. She was the oldest woman there, her skin and figure no match for Kayla's youth or Marlena's body that was toned with daily yoga. It was hard for Harper to love her body, knowing she carried in her every cell a DNA mutation that might kill her. But it was time to give it all up. The body hate, the embarrassment, her fixation with her imperfections.

This was quite possibly her breasts' final week of existence. What would this moment have been like if she hadn't had breasts? If all she'd had in their place were ugly scars and a flat chest? Would she have still felt comfortable sharing this experience with her friends?

Something that Brandon had said to her popped into her mind. Life was made to live, not to be afraid.

Yes. She could do this. She would do this, even if she didn't have breasts. Because all this was were women celebrating women, regardless of age or shape or flaws. Nobody here cared about vanity, and Harper decided that she wouldn't, either. She was giving it all up to the universe.

“Out of my way, girls!” Harper cried, running. She cannonballed into the water with a primal yelp.

Amid cheers of encouragement from Marlena and Kayla, she plunged into the warm depths, her breath held, sound muted, her hair floating up all around her in a wash of bubbles.

She resurfaced in time to watch Olivia's pencil drop of a jump. Her lean, freckled legs disappeared into the water first, then her slim hips and subtly curved figure, her small breasts that tightened to hard points of nipples, then light brown hair, the last to succumb to the pull of the water and vanish from view. She was beautiful and perfect in her own way. Like Harper.

Marlena's breasts were larger than Harper's. Rounded and lovely, they floated at the top of the water along with the tips of her curly red hair. They were world-class knockers, indeed.

Four women with four very different bodies, three different decades, if she rounded up the nine weeks until her fortieth. But age didn't matter today. The pool felt like a fountain of youth.