One More Day (7 page)

"Not bad.  Grats, man," she said, actually meaning it.  "And you are a pretty good tattooist."

Colby tossed her a smile.  "So yeah.  Owe Ryan a shit load.  Probably be dead right now if it wasn't for him, ya know?"

"So who's Katie?"

"His fiancée,"  Ryan said, passing her the glass.  "You know this drill."

Mack bit her lip and nodded.  "Yeah.  You know I'm just going to puke it up again."

"Doesn't matter," Colby told her.  "Better to puke something than nothing.  She's not my fiancée either.  She's my, I dunno.  Girlfriend I guess?  She's not that clingy though.  We have a place together."

"Something like that," Ryan said, gesturing for Mack to drink.

"You didn't say why," she pointed out before tilting the glass up.

"Well, that's the why for me.  Ryan picks up hard luck cases, and makes something of us.  I mean, we kinda have to put in an effort, but it seems to be his thing."

"The ones who deserve it," Ryan clarified. 

When Mack finished drinking all of the sticky sweet liquid, he took the glass from her, and stood again.  Setting it on the kitchen counter, he then made his way into the bedroom and grabbed the garbage can.  That went beside her on the sofa.

"Why?" she asked again.

"My mom died from breast cancer.  Last thing she told me was to not get jaded and always find the best in people.  I was fifteen.  I can remember it like it was yesterday, though.  That's why I knew what the tape on your arm was from, and how I got addicted to cherry kool-aid.  It was all she could drink."

"Doesn't taste like cherry," she said.

"It will.  See, dad bailed on us when I was real little, so all she had was me.  I spent a few years taking care of her before she went to hospice, got behind on school, but got to spend a lot of time with my mom before she was gone.  Her inheritance is what started this place.  She said to follow my dreams."

He shrugged, and Colby grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it gently.  Ryan tossed him an appreciative look.  Mack couldn't, though.  The idea of cancer killing someone so easily was just too sensitive for her to dwell on.

"So," he said, changing the subject.  "What sounds good to eat?"

"Nothing," she sighed.

Colby chuckled.  "Wrong answer."

"Eggs?  Pancakes? Pizza?"  Ryan smiled at her, but the look on his face said that he wouldn't take no for an answer.  "Anything.  You name it; we'll make it happen."

Defeated, she sighed.  "Pancakes doesn't sound horrible."

He nodded, but before he could stand again, Colby was up.

"I got this, man.  I can fucking make pancakes!"

"What time is it?" Mack asked while Colby began rummaging in the kitchen.

"Just after midnight."

"Fuck."  She sighed.  "And I could go back to sleep again, too.  Colby, you gonna give me a ride home?"

"No," Ryan said.  "Your chemo schedule was next to the script.  I'm taking you in the morning."

"It's a cute bike, and all," she teased, "But I can take the bus."

"No," Colby yelled, carefully measuring milk.  "I get the fucking bike, he gets the truck.  Don't be a cunt."

"Uh uh," she said.  "C'mon, guys.  This is bad enough.  I'm trying really hard not to die of embarrassment here.  No way am I getting my ass hauled to fucking chemo by my damned boss."

"Friend," Ryan said.  "Your friends are going to take care of you, and it's not negotiable."

Chapter 7

The alarm went off the next morning, pulling Mack awake.  She'd spent most of the night varying between sleeping like a rock and puking the cherry kool-aid that Ryan made her drink.  Easing open her eyes, she listened to the soft beeps growing louder and louder.  Eventually her mind caught up, and she remembered why she needed to wake up: chemo.

She groaned, and felt the bed shift.  "Mack?" Ryan asked, his voice rough.  "Shit."

She rolled over to find him propped awkwardly.  His head was kinked against the headboard, one arm holding him up on the pillows.  It looked like he'd stopped to check on her and fallen asleep where he sat.

"That's yours," he said.  "Where is it?"

"Last I saw, it was in my bag."

With a groggy nod, he stumbled across the room, moving her art bag from the corner, and looking inside.  He pulled her phone out and silenced the alarm before staggering back.  One hand rubbed at his face as he unplugged his from the table beside the bed, then plugged hers in its place.

"Go back to sleep, sweetie.  Lemme grab a shower.  You just have to be pampered today."

That was all it took.  Mack let her eyes close.  She woke again when the bathroom door opened and the scent of warm water and shampoo wafted out.  With nothing but a towel around his waist, Ryan crossed the room, rubbing the last of the water from his hair.  With each step, the towel split along his thigh, and a hint of purple winked at her.

His broad chest was hairless and the tattoos accented his form perfectly.  She wanted to simply take it all in, but her fogged mind had other plans.

"Is that the third one?" her mouth asked before her brain caught up.

He laughed and looked over.  "You were supposed to be asleep."

"I was, but you smell good."

He looked like he was about to reply, but just stopped.  Snagging a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, he walked into the other room.  "Since you're up, you want breakfast?"

"Shit," she muttered to herself.  "Half the women in this town would love to hear that."

"I heard that," he called back.

"Oh."

He stepped back around the corner, pulling the shirt over his head.  "So, we're even.  Yes.  That's my third tattoo.  It's a dragon.  After your chemo, I'll show it off.  Deal?"

"Yeah."

"But, I get to sit with you," he added.  "None of this bad-ass bitch shit.  It goes faster when you have someone to talk to."

"K."  That was all she could say, but oddly, the idea didn't seem as bad this morning as it had the night before.  There was something about Ryan Sterling that made her want to be around him, and it wasn't just his good looks.

Ryan had fallen asleep checking on her.  He'd done everything she could have wished for, and a few things she hadn't, but knew she needed.  He never made her feel like a leech, or a burden.  Instead, each time she thanked him, he acted like she'd just given him a gift.  The most beautiful man she'd seen, and he had a heart of gold.  It could be worse, right?  She'd killed any chance of impressing him, but at least this way she got to enjoy the view.  Everyone said that having cancer made you appreciate the little things.  Seeing Ryan in the morning was one of those little things she planned to hold onto.

Her stomach growled when she pulled herself from the bed.  Moving into the main room of the loft, she smelled the most amazing aroma, and sighed.  Coffee smelled good again.

"Shit," he said.  "Sorry, Mack, I forgot."

"No, that smells great."

"Nice.  You want a cup then?"

"Like you wouldn't believe.  Don't you have a damned clock in this place?"

He pointed, and she saw it nestled among a cluster of still life paintings.  Five till six.  The clock was plain with a white back and roman numerals in simple black letters, but somehow it matched the rest of the decor perfectly.  She'd expected a digital clock, or something fancy.  Hell, she'd expected a lot of things about Ryan to be different.

He set a cup at the bar, the ceramic clink on the counters a sound that every coffee addict knew well.  Shuffling over, she sat next to it and breathed in the scent, checking to make sure it really would stay where she wanted it.  The first sip was tentative, but after that, she guzzled it as fast as she could without burning her mouth.

"Breakfast?" he asked.

"You have eggs?"

"I have anything you want," he assured her.  "What kind of eggs am I making?"

Mack just raised her hands in defeat.  "Scrambled.  With cheese?"

"Coming up."

Working quickly and efficiently, he cracked a couple of eggs into a cup, added a dollop of milk, and whisked them while the pan heated on the stove.  Like he'd done it a million times before, he poured the mixture, turned, grabbed a plate from the cabinet, set it beside him, then turned back to what he was cooking.  It didn't take long at all before he set the plate before her, cheese liberally melting across the top.

While she ate, he refilled both of their coffee mugs and cleaned the mess.  He managed one more cup before she was done, never interrupting her from eating, but as soon as she set the fork on the plate, he pulled it away.  Three pills appeared in its place.

"Morning meds," he said, taking the plate to the sink.

She didn't even try to complain.  She took her medicine as directed by Papa Ryan, then checked the clock again.  With a sigh, she made her way back to the bedroom.

"You do not need to look pretty for this," he called after her.

"No, but I need a damned bra, boss."

He laughed.  "Not really," he said under his breath, but she heard it.

Glancing back, she raised an eyebrow, surprised to see him blush and turned back to the sink.  Her pride was long gone, so instead of worrying about finding something to wear, she just pulled the tank over her head, put on her bra, and pulled the tank back on.  Ryan walked in just as she lowered it over her breasts.  His steps paused.

"Sorry," he said.

"I'm giving up being worried about it.  I've just done more in front of you in my first week of work than I think I have in front of anyone I've known.  What more is there, stripping?  I mean, you're about to watch me get poisoned."

"It's not that bad."  He snagged a pair of his shoes at the side of the room. 

"It's pretty demeaning."

"Yeah.  Cancer kinda is.  Thing is, Mack, it's worse laying in your own vomit for a few hours.  Mom did that."

"I'm sorry."  What else could she say to that?

"Yeah.  I mean, she had it bad before they found it.  Looked up yours, and this should be a piece of cake."

"Shit," she laughed around the word.  "I've got six weeks of this, and then surgery that's going to knock my ass out for two months."

He nodded.  "Yeah, I read.  C'mon, get your shoes on.  We'll stop by your place when we're done and grab some more stuff."

"Hey..."  She slipped her foot into a running shoe.  "Thanks, Ryan.  I mean it.  You're a pretty good guy."

He chuckled.  "Just trying to impress you."  Then he offered her a hand up.

Together they made their way downstairs and through the back door of the shop.  He locked it behind them, and pressed the key fob, unlocking the truck.  Unlike Colby, he escorted her to the passenger side and pulled open the door with that boyish smile.  As soon as she hopped in the seat, he closed it and made his way to the other side.

There she was, in her fuzzy purple pants, black tank, and grey hoodie, being taken to her chemo by a man who looked like an underwear model in Technicolor.  He'd given up the long sleeve shirt, and as he walked beside her into the clinic, he gently draped those tattoos across the back of her shoulders.  As soon as they entered, she saw every woman's head turn.

A few were patients, most were nurses, but every woman noticed Ryan Sterling.  He never acknowledged it, though.  Guiding her to the glass window, he just waited while she signed in, standing almost protectively beside her, then followed her to a pair of chairs in the waiting room.

"You still good?" he asked.

"Yeah.  I figure this is the fighting back part.  I'm kicking the shit out of it, right?"

"That's my girl."  He claimed her hand.  "And when you think about quitting, I'll push you some more.  Sound like a plan?"

"Yeah.  This going to get that rough?"  She was hyper-aware of his touch.

"It might."  His fingers squeezed hers.  "But we're here the whole way."

"Mackenzie?" a nurse called.

Ryan stood and helped her up.  She wasn't feeling that weak, but he was adamant that he was going to be the perfect gentleman.  Truth be told, Mack didn't mind the quick looks of the other women in the room, either.  For the first time in her life, she had the Super Hot Guy fawning over her.  She planned to live this up for as long as she could.

The nurse led them down a narrow hall, to a small room looking over a grassy lawn.  Everything was made to be relaxing and comfortable, but it smelled sterile and antiseptic.  When Mack sat in the well padded recliner, Ryan moved to the chair at her side.

"I'm Maria," the nurse said, then looked over at Ryan.  "Are you the husband?"

"Boyfriend," he said, patting Mack's arm.

"Good, so you're going to drive her home?"

He nodded.  "Yep.  Wished she'd told me about it yesterday."

The woman's face softened, and she patted his shoulder.  "I don't think we have you on the emergency contact list.  Did you want to add him?" she asked Mack.

"Please," she said.

"Easy enough.  Let me just draw some blood and get that started, then I'll bring back the form."  She turned over Mack's arm and shook her head at the bruise.  "I think that vein's blown.  Let me draw blood from the other arm, and we'll put the catheter in your AC on this side."

Luckily, she'd never been afraid of needles, not like so many people.  The nurse drew three vials and taped a cotton ball to the inside of her elbow, then left.

"Boyfriend?" Mack asked.

"Yep, bosses don't get quite the same liberties.  Just go with it, Mack."

"You're going to have every woman in this clinic jealous of - "  she stopped.

"Oh no," he teased.  "Keep going."

"Jealous of me," she said, feeling her face growing hot.

"Don't think they'll be turned off by the freaky guy with all those tattoos?"

"No.  I think it makes you look like a bad boy."

He grinned.  "So you have a thing for bad boys, now."

"Uh, wait," she said laughing.  "How did we go from privileges to me having a crush on you?"

"You're laughing.  First time in twenty four hours."

Mack hoped he'd missed what she'd said, and just let it all go.  Having someone with her did make it better.  The nurse returned with the form, and Ryan filled it out, passing it back.  Shortly after that, they came again to start the IV.  While it dripped, Ryan kept her mind off everything except his gentle smile and brilliant blue eyes.

"So, what are we doing with your hair?" he asked, tugging at the end.

"Shaving it probably.  I'm not sure what's easier."

"Probably shaving it, so it's not as shocking when it starts to come out.  You know it's not just the hair on your head though, right?"

"No," she said.

He nodded, the right side of his lips turning up.  "The drapes are gonna match the carpet, baby."  As the words came out of his mouth, he shoved his hand across his face, refusing to laugh at his own bad joke.

"Not much to lose there, but please tell me I can do something with my eyebrows!"

"Wait." Ryan made a circular motion with his hand.  "Back the fuck up there.  What?"

"Oh no," she said laughing.  "We are not going there."

"You already slept in my bed.  This is something I should know!"

"Nope.  I figure by the time you're having to help me shower, I can blame the chemo."

He sighed and grabbed her hand again.  "I am, you know.  Colby and I, we're not letting you do this alone, ok?"

"Thanks, Ryan."  She felt so very touched by that. 

It wasn't just Ryan, but Colby, too.  She'd known them for a week.  One single week, and these two were the closest friends she'd had since childhood.  Sure, she might not know everything about them, but in one day she'd learned that they really would be there for her if she needed it.  Silently, she vowed to return the favor.  She wanted to be as good to others as Ryan was to her.

That was the moment Mack decided she really had a reason to fight cancer with everything she had.  It might bring her to her knees, but each day was one more that it wasn't winning.  Ryan did things for people out of the kindness of his heart.  The least she could do was learn from him.

"You know that phoenix you were drawing?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Yeah.  I started it the day they confirmed it was cancer."

He nodded.  "Finish it.  It'd look pretty good on your hip, and wouldn't ruin your chances of getting a job."