Pretty Pink Ribbons (23 page)

“The same way you told me,” she says. “You just come out and say it, because there will never be a perfect time to tell him or a painless way to ease the blow. It’s a punch in the gut, Laney, but there’s no way around it. Rip that Band-Aid off, sister, so the two of you can heal these wounds together.”

“You’re right,” I concede. “You’re absolutely right. I need to tell him.”

“I’m always right, Lane. Never doubt me. Ever. Now get some beauty sleep and text me tomorrow.”

“Love you, Mia.”

“Love you too, doll.”

THE RIGHT TIME STILL hasn’t come. I’ve had plenty of chances to tell him, I just haven’t been able to get the words out. But it
needs
to happen. Things are moving too fast and he’s getting too close, and a couple of nights ago he almost found out that his girlfriend—if that’s what I am—is of the one-breast species.

I’m not going to lie, I’m scared for him to find out. What if he doesn’t find me attractive? I feel deformed, almost like a monster. My scar is jagged and puckered and I hate looking at it, so I would never expect a man to look at it, let alone touch it. Someday, way far in the future when I have extra money lying around, I may try and get an implant, but right now it’s just not a luxury I can afford.

I close my eyes and rest my head back on the seat, trying to get comfortable—well, as comfortable as I can be sitting for hours on end while chemicals are being pumped into my body. My mind wanders to the other night, and as the memories start flooding in, my heart fills with deep warmth.

Levi’s eyes are locked on mine and they’re swirling with passion. Our make-out sessions have gotten intense lately, but I can tell by the look on his face they’re about to kick up a notch. We’ve been playing it safe, stopping before we let things get too far. I know why I’m stopping, I’m just not sure why he is. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because he’s still a little gun-shy. Which is okay, I get it. He has to learn to trust me again . . . and he will. I’ll make sure of it.

He starts walking, pushing me backward toward the desk. “Thank you for wearing a dress.” I glance down at my outfit. It’s nothing special, just a pink halter dress with white sandals. I didn’t even wear it for him, I wore it for me. I’ve been feeling a little depressed lately, which according to my oncologist is normal, and Benny swears that if I stop wearing mesh sports shorts and t-shirts and start dressing up a little more, it might make me feel a bit better.

Well, it’s doing something alright. I’m not sure I’m feeling less depressed, but if Levi wanting to have his way with me in his office is what happens when I get dolled up, then I’ll dress to the nines every day. “I appreciate it, Lane, you taking me into consideration when you pick out your clothes. The downfall here is that I have a shit-ton of work to do and easy fucking access to all the parts of you that I’ve been dying to get my hands on.”

“Oh, you have, have you?”

“You have no idea, baby.” He crowds against me until my thighs hit the cool wood of his desk, and then he wraps an arm around my waist and hoists me up. “Don’t get me wrong, kissing you is by far one of the greatest things in the world. But I want to touch you. I
need
to touch you, Lane.”

“Oh, shit,” I moan when his thick hands slide up my bare thighs, pushing under the skirt of my dress. I forgot how primal Levi can be. He’s been quite mild since we’ve started whatever it is that we’ve started, but today I’m seeing a glimpse of the old Levi—the Levi that used to take and not ask . . . the Levi that was in control and demanding and possessive in the very best possible way.

It’s been eight years since I’ve had a man inside of me and my body is aching for it—it’s aching for Levi. My head tips back at the same time his drops forward, and his mouth, hot and needy, descends on my neck. One hand is braced firmly on my thigh, while the other one is inching up higher and higher on the opposite leg until his fingers find the edge of my panties.

“I tried to block this out—how good you felt under my hands—but I couldn’t. You feel amazing, Lane.” My hands are behind me on the desk, keeping me propped up, but I risk the fall by lifting one and bringing it to his face.

“Touch me, Levi.” My voice is husky and thick, but I must have said exactly what he wanted to hear because in a matter of seconds, his hand slips into my panties and two thick fingers find my entrance. My sandals fall to the floor with a soft thud when I lift my legs to wrap them around his hips. Levi moves his free hand to the small of my back, holding me to him as his fingers work their way inside of me.

“Christ, Laney,” he moans as his hand pulls back and then thrusts forward again. His lips slam over mine in a kiss that is both needy and full of passion. My arms wrap around his neck, my fingers curling into his hair, and only because he knows me so darn well, he wraps his hand in my hair and he tugs. Heat explodes deep in my gut and slowly seeps through my veins. His mouth leaves mine as he begins to trail open-mouthed kisses across my jaw. His lips wrap around my earlobe and he sucks gently before nipping it lightly. A guttural moan floats through the air, but I’m so wrapped up in the movement of his fingers deep inside me and his hot breath on my ear that I have no idea who actually made the noise. Frankly, I don’t care either.

I can feel Levi smile against the side of my face and I revel in the fact that I’m the one who put it there. As much as I love Levi’s smile, however, I know one sure-fire way to wipe it off his face. My hands make their way down his back and I slip one in between us, skimming down his stomach, stopping to toy with the button of his jeans. I pop the button, yank down the zipper and Levi falls hot and heavy into my hand. Good Lord, I forgot what this man is made of.

“Commando, huh?”

His answer is nothing but a grunt into the base of my neck when I wrap my hand around his cock and start working him up and down. My finger swirls over the tip before I repeat the movements, over and over. “Laney,” he says gruffly as his lips pass over the top of my shoulder and then move back toward my jaw. “I don’t want to come in your hand, baby. The first time I get off with you, I will get off inside of you.”

“Then you better work your magic. If you want me to stop, then you better get me off.” Levi’s eyes narrow but a grin tugs at the side of his mouth—he’s always loved a good challenge.

“You forget how well I know you,” he pants, his fingers pushing and twisting. “I know that you like your hair pulled.” His mouth finds mine in a quick, hot kiss. “And I know that you like when I talk dirty. Don’t you, Laney?” I nod my head, desperately trying to keep my movements going despite the tingling at the base of my spine. “You like it when I tell you how hot and wet and tight you are. And you are tight, Laney. So fucking tight.” Those tingles turn into vibrations that start making their way up my body. “But I know that what you like most is this—”

“Holy shi—” His mouth sears mine, swallowing my words, at the same time he twists his hand and curls his fingers, hitting that one spot deep inside of me that only he has touched. His thumb finds my clit, hard and throbbing, and I have absolutely no idea how he’s doing what he’s doing but it’s absolutely amazing and I don’t want him to stop. His fingers slide and pump, his thumb swirling around me, and all of those little vibrations that have been building shatter into a million shards shooting through every inch of my body. My hand drops and I clutch the side of his shirt as he works me over the edge and then slowly guides me back down to earth.

“I love it when you challenge me, Laney.” His wicked words are whispered in my ear and my head drops to his shoulder. He chuckles, pulling his hand from between my legs. He smoothes out the skirt of my dress and drops a gentle kiss to the side of my head.

“Give me two minutes and I promise I’ll make up for losing the challenge.” I nuzzle my face into the side of his neck, inhaling long and deep. He smells
so
good. As his hands move to my waist, his thumb grazes the underside of where my right breast should be and I jerk back. I quickly lace my fingers with his, hoping that he didn’t notice my hasty retreat.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, bringing our joined hands to his mouth. Well, so much for hoping.

“Nothing. Sorry. That just tick—”

“Hi, Laney.” The soft voice interrupts my memory from the other night . . . and why does that voice sound so familiar? My eyes pop open to find Levi’s friend Harley sitting in a chair next to my recliner. She’s wearing the normal ‘chemo’ nurses’ attire—blue scrubs and a light blue lab coat—and she looks confused and maybe a little shocked . . . or scared.

“Harley.” I sit up a little straighter in my seat and run an anxious hand down my arm, which is stupid because I can’t hide the IV and pole that I’m currently attached to. Her eyes bounce around my body, and when they land back on me I expect to see pity . . . but I’m wrong. She’s looking at me with empathy.

My heart starts beating fast as I realize what seeing her here could mean. Before I even think, I blurt, “Please don’t tell Levi.” My eyes fill with tears and I grab her hand. “I’m going to tell him. I swear, I’m going to tell him. I know you’re best friends and you probably think I’m a horrible person for not telling him, but I will. I swear.”

“Laney”—she squeezes my hand and scoots her chair a little bit closer to mine—“I would never tell him. First, because I can’t.” She points to her scrubs and badge. “It’s against the rules . . . Privacy Acts and all that fun stuff. But even if I could, I would never tell him.” She looks down at my trembling hand wrapped firmly around hers. “
You
need to though. It won’t be long and you won’t be able to hide it. I’m a little shocked you’ve been able to hide it this long.” Her eyes find mine again and she offers me a tiny smile.

I know what she’s talking about. I’m going to lose my hair, and then I’ll have no choice but to tell him. And it’s already started. Every morning when I brush my hair, more and more seems to be coming out. I hate it. This has to be the worst part . . . well, other than getting my breast removed.

“I know.” I’m thankful that she wouldn’t tell him even if she could. “This is all just so . . .” I pause, blinking several times to push back the tears. “It’s just hard. If I don’t talk about it, then sometimes—even if it’s only for a couple of minutes—I’m able to forget about it.” She nods her head in understanding, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s gone through in her life that would make her understand that feeling. “I want to tell him, I do. I just want to do it when the time is right. And things have been going so well between us, I don’t want to screw anything up.”

“Well, for the record, I don’t think you could screw anything up. He’s smitten, Laney. Absolutely smitten.” She shakes her head, almost as if she can’t believe it, and laughs.

“He’s talked about me?” I ask, curious as to what he’s said and hoping that it’s nothing horrible.

“Don’t worry, that boy won’t give me any juicy details, but it’s not for lack of trying. I’m going to be honest, I’m dying to know everything about you. Levi has been my best friend for the past several years, and only once did he allude to ever being in love. But based on what he did tell me, I knew that she had to be special. And then when I saw you that day at Flame”—I nod my head, remembering my jealous fit—“I knew you must be the girl he told me about.”

“Did he tell you we’ve been—” I hesitate, trying to decide what exactly it is that we’ve been doing.
Are we dating?

“He told me that you two have been spending time together,” she says, saving me from my thoughts. “He told me that he’s been happier these past several weeks than he has been in a long time.”

“What else did he say?” I ask hopefully, loving what I’m hearing so far. “I mean . . . if you can tell me. If you can’t, I understand.”

“Are you kidding? Hell yeah, I’ll tell you. This stuff is important, and we women need to know these things.” We both laugh and I look down, noticing that we’re still holding hands . . . and I like it. I like having someone here with me—someone that’s close to Levi. It almost makes me feel like he’s here with me.