Love Untouched (Unexpected) (15 page)

“I’d like to have a drum set.”

~P.R., age 12, congenital heart disease

Brynn wasn’t answering her cell.

I wasn’t able to escort her to her car like I’ve been regularly doing every night that she worked.

I had a meeting that ran late with my agent, Michael, and SwimFit. SwimFit wanted to conduct an experiment with my swim gear. I was cool with that, as long as they didn’t mess with my current practice and racing suits this close to the upcoming World Championships. I was not being finicky. I just wanted to compete in the same gear that I already felt comfortable wearing when swimming. Smith agreed with that, too. He was on video conference with us for the meeting because he was out-of-town with his family. We were all in agreement on this subject, though. Why mess with what has worked before?

I was pro with everything that SwimFit suggested. Their presentation was great and it looked good on paper, or on the slides that they showed. Their extensive analysis featured videos of me swimming above water and underwater, with the utilization of an underwater video camera system, to determine how drag resistance affected my swim efficiency and strokes. The new design of suits will create a balance between the pressure differences of the faster and slower water particles, and help me move through the water more efficiently.

Whew! There was physics to swimming and that was the only physics I was interested in, since it directly affected my performance. Ace has heard me talking about the importance of physics in swimming since we were in college. There were actually a few times I had enlisted her help in explaining to me some weird particle theory; she got so detailed that I literally zonked out on her. When I had woken up, I found she had drawn stick figures on my arms with a felt pen that took hours to wash off because she had used a fine point Sharpie on certain ‘parts’ of the stick figures. She was a mean girl. Not gonna lie, I probably would have done the same thing to her.

I texted Brynn for the fourth time in two hours with, “Honey where are you?” I was getting worried. What if something had happened to her, on the one night I didn’t pick her up or walk with her?

I drove to the hospital. Without traffic, it took me fifteen minutes. I stopped by her usual parking spot and her Prius was nowhere to be found. Maybe she went home already. She must have been overly tired to not even return my call or text me back.

As I made the right turn outside the parking lot, I noticed that Mr. X—Brynn and I had named him Mr. X because we didn’t know his actual name—was not in his usual spot. Another odd thing. Mr. X never left his spot. He was there every night at the same time, same place. Brynn brought him food and drink after every shift. She told me that her first night in the ER, she had heard a beautiful voice singing while on her way to the parking lot late at night. She followed the voice and it led her right to Mr. X. She had tried to talk to him numerous times, but he didn’t budge, let alone speak. She had never even seen his face because a blanket always covered him. Three nights out of the week he sang, as if singing to Brynn in thanks. Initially, we both thought he could either be a guy or a girl but when we listened to the voice intently, we both concluded he was a guy. I have heard his voice a few times. It is deep and velvety, he hits the high notes perfectly, and I figure he must have been a singer or a performer.

I left the hospital and drove to her apartment. Luckily, another tenant was going inside so I was able to enter the building without needing Brynn to buzz me up, which was helpful since I was not sure if she was there. She wanted to give me a key to her place a few times but I said that the only time I’d accept it is if she told her brother about us. I knew she was disappointed about it but I really didn’t want to show up at her place unexpectedly and find out Milo was there because that could start another fight. Brynn graciously accepted my keys to my place though because she could come visit me anytime she wanted. I had nothing to hide.

I knocked on the door. Thoughts of her brother being inside her place just invaded my mind as I was on my third knock.

Finally, a dark red sweatpants and white, loose, sleeveless shirt-clad Brynn answered the door. She looked weary. Her eyes were swollen like she had been crying; her shoulders so slouched that she looked as if she was going to fall in front of me from carrying the weight of the world on them, at any second. I whisked her tired body up in my arms and carried her to her bedroom.

I laid her on the bed, gently cradling her head against her soft pillow.

I took off my pants, leaving my shirt and boxers on, and joined her in bed.

After I reached for her waist, it only took her a few seconds to react. She rested her head against the crook of my arm and splayed her fingers across my chest.

“I got your calls and texts...,” she murmured, her voice sounding extremely exhausted. “I’m sorry, we were extremely busy today at the unit, and then...” I felt wetness start to drip against my shirt. Tears.

I let my fingers do the talking, massaging her luminous hair. Even under the soft dim lights from the nightlight that she usually kept on, making it difficult for me to sleep at times because I liked to sleep in complete darkness, the sight of her golden locks mesmerized me, and her unique, Brynn-labeled vanilla scent was causing a stirring, an awakening down below my boxers.

You’re a bastard, Kieran
.
Not right now
.

“What happened?” I asked. I had seen her both tired and down before, but this time she seemed extremely depressed. Judging by her body language, something took a toll on her today and weighed her down.

Her hand left my chest and wiped at the wetness I had felt, that was making its way down her cheeks. I reached under her chin and tried to tilt her face up towards mine. “Honey tell me, please?”

Her gaze was downcast; I wanted to see her eyes but I let her take charge of the situation. It was obvious that she was hurting.

“We had two code blues in the ER today.” I have watched various medical shows on TV because of Ace. Personally, I would rather have watched how spider monkeys spend their leisure time swinging from tree to tree on National Geographic. Medical shows were boring. Who cared if a doctor had a love affair with two or four interns? They were all the same. Ace watched them to jot down inconsistencies, what the shows did wrong, and then she emailed the TV shows directly. She was crazy like that. She had actually gotten a few responses back, and one time, she received an invite to a live taping at Burbank Studios. She took me, of course. Anyways, I knew what code blues were. Basically, it meant that someone was about to meet his or her maker, and everyone here on earth was trying not to let that happen.

She continued, “One was a seventy-year old woman who suffered an ischemic stroke.” Okay, that was way out of my league. I had no idea what that one was. The shows didn’t go into detail about that. “And the other.” I could barely hear through the sobs caught in her throat. “Was Mr. X.”

I stiffened against her. “Mr. X? The homeless guy you give food to? What happened to him?”

She inclined her head closer, almost leaving no space for her to breath. I could still make out her words, though when her voice came out muffled against my chest. “He’s not homeless Kieran.”

What? All this time he was taking advantage of Brynn’s soda, chips, and chocolate bars? I’ll make that idiot pay for every single one of them.

“Wait,” I wondered out loud. “He was in code blue?”

She straightened her neck and curled her right leg against my thighs.

“Someone called 911 for him because he was lying bloody and beaten to a pulp on the side of the road. By the time he got to the ER, he barely had a pulse, and he was bleeding all over the place. His face was a mess and his clothes, what was left of them, were so tattered, and barely covered his body.” Her tone was deceptively steady, though I heard the quaking between her words. This had deeply affected her, but she was trying hard to tell me the entire story. “He might have had internal hemorrhage because his blood pressure was so low, and he was crashing, going into pulseless V-tach. We defibrillated him twice, and we were able to revive him.”

“So, he’s okay then?” I asked. If he was okay, then I could definitely make him pay for the number of times he cheated Brynn out of her own money, and even some of mine, when we gave him food.

“He’s in the ICU now, but I think he’s going to be okay.” She didn’t sound relieved, though.

“Then what’s wrong? He’s okay and I’m thinking the other lady’s okay, too?” Why was she still upset? Maybe doing those code blue things just tired her out?

“They’re both okay,” she confirmed, her voice filled with sadness. “Mr. X, Kieran, is actually Dr. Windmere.”

The homeless, or now not homeless, guy was a doctor?

“What?!”

She reached under my shirt, and my breath caught as her fingers trailed my ribcage before her hand rested in the middle of my chest. Brynn’s touch was so welcome, so familiar. I didn’t remember when I started missing her at night, if she stayed at her place. I just knew that I missed her when she wasn’t with me. Especially in bed. Just the feel of her body next to mine made me instantly at ease.

“He was a doctor at Arizona State, married to a physical therapist named Maddie. I’m getting this story from Kathy who recognized his face, even with all the scruffy beard and blood, as we were trying to revive him. He was a nice guy, from what Kathy described, and worked in the O.R.” She continued, unhurried, “About two years ago, his wife was walking up the side street; the parking lot wasn’t there yet because it’s a new addition this year. Dr. Windmere was working that day, and he was in the O.R. performing surgery. His wife was mugged, beaten, and left for dead, Kieran.” She struggled to talk and breathe at the same time, so I rubbed her shoulders, brushing my hand against her spine.

I felt sorry for the guy. How helpless he must have felt to see his wife like that.

Brynn heaved.

I held her close to me, wrapping her in my arms, hoping to give her some comfort.”It’s okay, honey. You’re tired. You can tell me tomorrow.” She was barely functioning right now, her wits was at its last ends.

“No, it’s helping me. This is helping me. Talking to you about it.” Undeterred, she reflected, as if reaching a conclusion on her own, “No wonder I didn’t see him when I passed by the sidewalk whenever I came in to work. He wasn’t there, Kieran. He was only there at night. His wife was mugged and beaten up, at night …” Her voice was hushed and soft, but then she blurted out, “Ohmigod, he was trying to find the mugger! Kathy said that they never found the person who killed his wife. Maybe he was trying to find that person by holding a vigil at the place where she was killed.”

Dang
. How sad. The guy must have loved his wife so much to do that to himself for years.

Brynn sat up, her voice louder this time. I tucked my hands underneath my head, propping myself up as I watched her.

“You see, Kieran. When we admitted Mr. X, I mean, Dr. Windmere, and the cops were in there after only a few hours. Maybe he found the guy who mugged his wife. The chances are slim to none that the same person who mugged his wife would be anywhere in the vicinity … but maybe he did. That’s why he was beaten and bloody and looked like he was in the fight of his life.” Brynn sputtered the words out, as if she couldn’t catch up with what her brain was telling her to speak out aloud.

I eyed her form as she stretched her arms out, up, and widely to her sides. She rocked on her legs and then climbed up on me, her whole body flushed against mine as she touched my nose with her lips.

“Thanks for coming over tonight,” she whispered. “It felt really good to talk to you about it. Sometimes I second-guess myself whether I should tell you because I don’t want you to be burdened about it. I mean, you have your training and you’re busy with a lot of stuff.”

“Hey.” I slowly tipped her chin so she could see and feel what I wanted her to hear. “I’m here for you. Life’s not all happy and jolly. I’m not with you just because of the happy and fun times. I’m here because I care, Brynn. When you’re sad, I want to feel it, and maybe help you get through it. When you’re in pain, I want to ease your discomfort. I’m here honey. Anytime you need me. However way you want me. I am
here
. I will come to you, whether or not you call me.”

She tangled her fingers into my hair and sighed softly. Her lips found mine, and she whispered huskily, “Make love to me Kieran.”

“You’re tired and you just had a rough day,” I argued. She really needed to rest, especially after hearing her challenging day. She was such a resilient and strong woman. Yes, she did get tired, that was normal and to be expected, especially in her line of work. Today was an example of how hard her day could get, but I never heard her complain about her patients or her job. When she told me she had cancer as a child, I initially treated her as if she was fragile, even when we had sex. She proved to me, time and time again, just how tenacious she was. Some would think they had gotten the short end of the stick if they were in her place—her parents dying at such a young age, her cancer diagnosis and treatment a few years after, her aunt dying in a car accident, when she was in college—but Brynn took every adversity as a challenge that she could win. I remember when I first saw her, how I thought she glowed from the inside. It was true. Brynn’s light was inside of her. She had a fire that could not be diminished, could not be extinguished.

She lifted my shirt up and started kissing me hungrily, on my lips and then my neck, nibbling as she went lower. “I need you Kieran. I need you right now.”

That was all it took as I peeled her clothes off her body and showed her that whatever she needed, I would gladly give to her. Brynn’s light, her presence, her essence, was what I needed. One that I could only find in her and that only she could give to me in return.