Love Always, Kate (8 page)

I hated winging it, but what choice did have? It’s not like he sent me a script with the flowers. Surely, he wouldn’t be following any of the tête-à-têtes I’d had with him in my head.

I crossed my legs and took a sip of wine. Damian sighed and looked at the full glass in his hands. He tapped his fingers against the bowl, making ripples in the liquid. I watched as he licked his lower lip and pulled it between his teeth. Adorable.

“There’s some, uh, stuff, you should know,” he
said, keeping his head bowed. “About what you heard last week. About…”

The muscles in his jaw clenched. He circled his finger around the rim of his glass, staring at it.

“I like you, Kate. And,” he shook his head slightly, cleared his throat, and finally looked up. “And because of that, you need to know…I mean, you already know what an ass I can be. But I wasn’t always like that. Not before my mom and Liam died.”

He dropped his gaze again before he continued.

“My dad, he, uh, he made all the funeral arrangements by himself. Besides that, he never really dealt with it, you know? It pissed me off, ‘cause throughout the whole damn thing he didn’t say a word to me. Didn’t ask for help or what I thought. He didn’t even shed one goddamn tear over them.”

Damian’s hand squeezed the stem of his glass, and I worried it would snap in two. His eyes drifted to the fire, then back to the clear liquid. I sat quiet, not wanting to interrupt his monologue; I didn’t know what to say anyway.

“Liam was his favorite, you know? The apple of Dad’s eye. He was going to be a lawyer, Liam was. Valedictorian. He had just been accepted to Yale. Son of a bitch was a fucking genius. And everybody liked him. Hell, there’s a plaque dedicated to him at the homeless shelter where he volunteered. Even the homeless guys showed up to the funeral.”

When he spoke, his eyes glazed over, and he never looked directly into mine for more than a second before dropping his gaze.

“I look a lot like him. But that’s as far as our similarities went, even back then. Dad expected me to take Liam’s place. Fill his giant-ass shoes. Become who he was. Instead, I became everything my brother wasn’t.”

He paused for a second and squeezed his eyes together. When they opened, they were a darker shade of blue.

“It hurt, you know? Every time I went to school, I saw Liam. When I came home to an empty house, I saw Mom in the kitchen and Liam studying at the table. I just couldn’t take it anymore. My dad and I, we’re each other’s punching bags.” Damian let out a soft chuckle before he continued. “He drowns himself in work and gets disappointed when I can’t live up to his expectations for my brother.

“That’s…that’s what happened at the hospital when you showed up. I never meant for you
to hear that.”

The pain radiated off him like the heat from the burning wood in the fireplace. I wanted to reach out, caress his face. There was anger behind his eyes. And sorrow. So much had been taken from him in so little time.

“Were you and Liam close?” I asked, hoping he’d look at me.

He didn’t. “He was my best friend.”

“If it’s any consolation, your dad’s a good doctor.”

Damian nodded and looked into my eyes. “He is. One of the best. There’s no one better to take care of you.” He ran his hand over my cheek. His Adam’s apple rose and fell. “Come here.”

Without thinking, I moved closer. His eyes locked into mine. I sat directly in front of him, my legs folded in front of me. He slid his hand down my cheek, behind my ear, and down the side of my neck. My lips separated as I inhaled, memorizing every touch.

All thoughts about how he felt about me, what I meant to him, if he was with someone else, were gone. This gorgeous bad-boy just opened himself up to me, allowed me into a part of his soul, and shared a piece of his pain.

“I’m, uh, sorry for the way I treated you when you drove me home. I…I was an idiot.”

I nodded. I wanted to tell him it was okay, but nothing came out.

Damian’s fingertips glided over the base of my neck like a necklace. I swallowed. My body tingled at his touch. He moved his hand down my shoulder, my arm, and to my hip. The look in his eyes reminded me of the intensity of the first time he kissed me. I bit my lip.

His palm moved over my thigh, and I felt him tug gently under my knee. For a girl with no experience with guys, I instinctively knew what he wanted. I surprised myself when I untucked my leg and scooted forward. He guided it over his and wound it around his waist, drawing me closer as I folded my other leg around him.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. His lips pressed against mine in a kiss so full of passion, I had to hold on tighter. His hands clung to the back of my shirt, clawing at the material. The heat of the fire flushed my face, but the burning inside me seemed hotter. His lips moved to my neck, allowing me to gasp for air.

“Don’t leave me,
Katie. I need you,” he whispered suddenly. “I’m gonna fuck up, but don’t leave me. I…”

His mouth found mine again. My fingers ran through his hair with an urgency I’d thought only belonged to him. My bod
y tightened, and my heart raced. When Damian broke the kiss and buried his face in my neck, I wasn’t done. I wanted him to keep kissing me, to hold me closer to him.

His lips moved across the base of my neck before they stopped. He pulled me hard against him, his hands clenched in the middle of my back. With my eyes closed, I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself. Damian’s chest rose and fell heavily, his heart thudding.

He didn’t look up, he just held me close, every so often kissing my neck. Time passed, and silence filled the room as the fire began to die down.

Chapter 8

November 28

Dear Diary,

My immune system is worthless. Apparently, I’ve caught the Thanksgiving flu everyone at school has. They’ll get over it in a few days. I’ll be stuck with it till May—if I’m lucky.

After my amazing date with Damian last nig
ht, I came home and went to bed. I awoke a dozen times in the middle of the night feeling like I’d fallen off a three-story building. It’s been the same routine with every round of chemo. I get sick from the treatment, then I feel better because of all the pill-popping. After my immune system has been destroyed, I catch a virus I can’t kick. You’d think I’d be used to it by now—I wish.

I tossed and turned most of the night, dreaming about Damian and our fire-lit dinner. And
, of course, about his lips on mine. I don’t have much experience in that department, but holy cow, he’s an amazing kisser! There’s no way it can get any better than that! It’s easy to get lost in him.

I couldn’t conjure
up the nerve to ask about the bra on his bedroom floor. Stupid, I know. Disastrous, maybe. But how was I supposed to ruin the moment?

I’ll ask. I have to, no matter how scared I am of his answer.

I
tucked my diary under the pillow. Last night’s date with Damian ran through my mind, making me smile.

If only this stupid flu hadn’t come on
!

~*~

It was past noon already. The sun hung high in the sky, peeking through the curtains. My entire body ached. I’d lost everything in my stomach in the middle of the night. A half-drunk glass of water sat on my nightstand, mocking me. My mouth felt full of cotton, but if 5
AM
was any indication, I wouldn’t be able to keep down the other half, either.

The irresistible water called my name, though. My throat burned
. I snatched the glass and drank the rest in one swig. It felt heavenly going down; the glass emptied too fast. I swung my legs over the side of my bed and wobbled to the bathroom down the hall.

“Hey, h
oney,” Mom greeted me. She took the glass from me and placed her palm against my forehead. “You’re warm. Definitely not from the chemo. I’ll get you more water. Go back to bed.”

I nodded, mumbled
a “thank you” and turned around. My legs almost gave out, and I had to cling to my bed so I wouldn’t collapse to the floor. When I crawled between the sheets, I felt like I had just run the Boston Marathon. Not like I knew what that would feel like.

I rolled over
and buried my face in the pillow, groaning. It wasn’t long before I heard my mom enter and set the glass by the bed. She kissed the top of my head then closed the door behind her. I hated that this was a normal routine in our home.

The glass sat untouched
, no longer sweet-talking me. It took too much energy to roll over and reach for it. My eyelids started to fall. Sleep would be blissful, and I wanted nothing more than to drift off. I was almost asleep when my phone rang. Fumbling, I grabbed it off the pillow and squinted at the screen. If the number hadn’t belonged to Damian, I wouldn’t have answered.

“Hey.”
I tried to sound chipper.

“Did I wake you?”
Oh, how I missed that voice.

Talking hurt
my throat. It took effort to push the words out; a few seconds of conversation left me breathless, but I didn’t want him to hang up. His voice was already soothing me.

“I…
uh. No, I’m still awake.”

“Still?”

“No. I…I’ve been asleep. And…” My throat scratched.

“
Kate, are you okay?”

I sighed. “I have the flu.
No big deal.” I coughed.

“Flu?”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me through the phone. “Yeah. It hit in the middle of the night. It’s okay, though. It’s…happened before.”

“Damn
, I hope it wasn’t the lobster.”

“No.
Uh, then you’d be sick, too.”

“Right.” S
ilence filled the other end. I swallowed, and my throat burned. The glands on my neck had swelled to the size of golf balls.

“Can I come over?”

Huh?

It didn’t seem odd for me to go to his
house or have him sitting with me in the hospital. But if he came here, he’d have to meet my parents, and I—

“
Kate?”

“Oh, uh. Aren’t you worried about getting sick?” I had to stall somehow.

“It’s not like I have to go to school. I just want to come and be with you.”

“I won’t be good company. I’m really tired.”

“Then I’ll watch you sleep and hold your hand,” he answered quickly.

Honestly, I liked the sound of that. Damian’s hand wrapped around mine. His body next to me.
Ahh. Yes, come over.

“I’ll have
… to call you back.” I rubbed the knobs on the sides of my neck. They answered by throbbing.

We hung up
, and I sent a text to my mother’s phone. Seconds later, she came racing up the stairs.

She knocked before she stepped inside.
“What do you need, sweetheart?”

“Uh, would it be okay if…” I took a deep breath. “Damian called. Would it be okay if he came over for a little while?”

My mother’s brown eyes widened in surprise.

“Well
,” she said, drawing the word out. “I think you need your rest.”

My mother almost threw me a party when I got my first period. I had to talk her down; she was so excited that “her little girl was becoming a woman
!” It made my stomach churn thinking about what she’d do about my first boyfriend. I wouldn’t be the one to open the door and save him when he came in.

Yes, I knew what she was thinking. The smile spreading across her face proved me right.

“He said he just wants to be with me,” I told her against my better judgment. Her smile grew to a toothy beam.

“How sweet! I knew there was something going on between the two of you! Oh, my little girl is growing up.”

I glared at her. We were alone and already she was embarrassing me.

“
Well, I suppose he can come over.” She rubbed my hand. Then her smile faded, a serious expression replacing the happiness.

“Now
Katie. There are boys out there—and I’m not saying Damian is one of them—who only want to be with a girl for one thing.”

What? Now? “Oh
my gosh, Mom! Please stop!”

“No. No, d
ear. I need to do my parental duty.”

I shook my head. The head
ache I already had worsened with the movement.

Distracted by my disease, we’d never actually had “the talk” before.

“I know that being a teenager can be difficult, especially with raging hormones and a boyfriend. I was your age once upon a time too, you know.”

‘Raging hormones?’ Please tell me this isn’t happening.

“Just because a boy says he loves you doesn’t mean you need to have sex with him. If he truly loves you, he can wait. And I know it’s easy to get caught up in the moment, and it feels good, and you might want to…”

I leaned over my bed and grabbed the garbage can. It was only the half-glass of water from earlier, but it was enough
to quiet my mother. Oh thank you, Lord.

“You’
re sick. I guess we can have this conversation later,” she said, taking the fluid-filled sack from the garbage can and out of my bedroom.

I heaved a sigh and rolled over
. Saved by puke. Lovely.

I called Damian back. He answered on the first ring.

“You can come.” I gave him my address.

“Hmm. I was hoping you’d say that.”

The doorbell rang.

I smiled thinking about him climbing in his car as soon as we’d hung up.

“I have a movie and a 2-liter of Sierra Mist. That’s what you’re supposed to drink when you’re sick, right?”

I laughed then clutched my stomach in pain. “Thanks,” I whispered.

“See you in a few.”

I heard the front door close and Damian’s sweet voice float up to me.

“Thank you, Mrs. Browdy,” he said as he walked up the stairs to my room.

“Just remember, she needs her rest
.”

“Yes, ma’am.
Of course.”

“Marcy. Please call me Marcy.”

Mom knocked on the door before she poked her head in. “You have company, sweetheart.”

My insides melted when Damian became visible. I hoped my mother didn’t notice the quiet sigh that escaped me
.

“Hey.” Damian’s voice sounded
rough. His expression was unreadable. No smile graced his beautiful face. No sparkle in his eyes.

Not what I’d expected.

My mother winked at me and intentionally left the door open before she headed back downstairs. I heard her giggle a little too loudly. Damian didn’t seem to notice, his gaze focused on me.

I couldn’t
look away. Part of me worried he’d been drinking. It would explain his stale demeanor. He pulled up a chair next to my bed. His eyes weren’t glossy, and his breath didn’t reek of alcohol.

“What’s wrong?”

His lips began to form a grin. “Nothing. You—”

“
You’re lying.”

Damian’s brow creased
. “My mom could always tell when I was lying.”

I shrugged. “We’re gifted.
Now tell me the truth.”

“Just surprised, t
hat’s all. You’re paler than I thought.” He cleared his throat and glanced away for a second.

Sure, my skin had the complexion of a polar bear,
and according to my reflection, my eyes were decorated with dark circles. Maybe they were a bit sunken in, too, but influenza didn’t come with redeeming qualities.

From out of his bag, Damian pulled out
the Sierra Mist and poured me a glass. “Drink.”

I stared at it, biting my lower lip
.
It looks so good!

“Thanks,” I muttered, taking a
small sip.

Leaning back on my pillow, I kept my eyes on Damian. He took my hand in his as he slid off his chair and sat
down on my mattress. He still didn’t smile. My stomach instantly started to churn.

I tried to fight it back,
to hold it in. He grabbed the garbage just as the soda flew out of my mouth. If it wasn’t for Damian, I would have thrown up on myself.

My body ached all over, my throat felt like a clump of boils, and my head was a ticking bomb. I could barely keep my eyelids open, my vision blurring behind the tears. Damian had seen more of me in gross states the last weeks than most guys ever saw.

“Sorry,” I grumbled.

“
Kate,” he started, hesitant. “Should I … Do I need call my dad? Maybe it’s something more?”

“No, really. It’s just the flu. I’ll be fine. I just need some rest.”
My words sounded rehearsed.

He sighed as h
is hand glided over my cheek. I closed my eyes, concentrating on his touch, moving down my chin, over my lips, and across my neck. I drank it in. Every trace his fingertips made across my skin sunk into me like paint on a canvas.

“Damn,” he whispered. “You’re burning up.”

I rolled onto my side, burying my face into my pillow. More than anything, I wanted Damian to keep caressing me. I heard him breathing. His hands never stopped moving over my face, my bald head, my arms.

Damian’s phone rang. Sighing, he kissed my head and yanked it out of the pocket of his jeans.

“Yeah?…Tonight?” He let out a nervous breath. “I don’t know. I…yeah. Okay.”

The voice on the other end rose loud enough for me to distinguish it as female.

I peeked one eye at him. He looked uncomfortable.

“I know. I was busy last night. Fine. I’ll call you later.” He turned his phone off before tucking it back in his pocket. His eyes focused on the door.

“You all right?” I asked.

His head snapped in my direction. “
Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He forced a smile. “You need some rest. I’ll be right here.”

I wanted to ask him who she was, but my head pounded so much I could barely think.

He drew the blankets over my shoulders, touching every inch of bare skin on his way. My body tingled as I relaxed into his caresses. Nothing felt better than this.

Before I dozed off, I felt his body against mine
, and his arms wrapped around me. His lips pressed against my neck.