Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) (196 page)

“What did the doctor say?”

“He gave me painkillers for the headache.” I rattle the little pill container. “And, he told me to rest.”

“The cancer.”

“It’s no worse,” I lie. “He doesn’t think it’s connected.”

“Thank God.” James hugs me again. “When I saw you there, on the floor of the restroom, unconscious, I thought…” his voice hitches. “I thought…”

“You thought you lost me,” I say softly.

“Yes.” He grips me tight. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, Celeste. Do you understand? Not ever.”

“That’s really not up to me,” I mumble against his shoulder.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head. “I’m tired. I want to go home.”

He smiles at me. A little bit too much.

“What?” I ask him.

“You called my apartment ‘home,'” he says. “You’ve never done that before. I like it.”

9.

The drive back is quiet. I think we’re both lost in our own thoughts.

I wonder if I should voice my concerns to James. About us, about our future, about my prognosis.

But I already know what he’s going to say. He’s going to tell me to fight.

In that sense, there’s very little point in having a conversation.

There’s, of course, that other niggling worry, that I was too craven to tell the doctor what really happened.

But the decision was my own. If I get more sleep, if I take it easy the rest of the week and don’t exert myself physically… then I think I’ll survive without any major hiccups until the term is over.

And then I’ll have finished one full semester of graduate school, just like I promised myself.

Whatever happens next will be a new start in my life.

“Hey,” James says. I look over. “Do you know how I got to you so fast?”

“No,” I reply. “I was just thinking about that.”

“Summer called me.”

He stares straight ahead and continues driving.

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “I wouldn’t have expected it either.”

“Wait, so
Summer
found me first?”

“Yes, Summer found you. She called the ambulance. Then she called me. I was in the building next door.”

“But…”

“Maybe,” James says softly, “your friend isn’t as bad as you or I think.”

“She is
not
my friend,” I protest. “James! Come on. She filed a
rape
charge against you!”

“The more I consider it,” he says, “the more I think Angela pressured her to do it.”

“How do they even know each other?” I ask. “Where did they meet?”

James hesitates. “That… well, I may have had something to do with introducing them.”

“What do you mean? How? When? Why?”

“I was holding a meeting with my TAs and Angela ambushed me in my office,” he says. “Kind of how she first met you.”

“Jesus, the woman sounds like a stalker,” I tell him.

“That’s not entirely untrue.”

“But—okay. So, Summer called you? I didn’t even see her there when I awoke!”

“She left as soon as I arrived. And she said something to me in passing, Celeste. I’ve been contemplating it ever since.”

I turn toward him as he steers the Porsche. “What?”

“‘Take care of her, James. You’re the only one she has.’”

He glances at me. His eyes are completely unreadable.

“Oh,” I sit back. “
Summer
said that?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe she has a heart, after all,” I murmur. “A dark, cruel, and twisted one.”

“I think she’s playing at being someone she’s not,” James says after a long moment.

“How do you figure?”

“She’s not—she’s not as malicious as she makes herself seem,” he replies. “I think it’s an act. She’s covering up her fear. You were her closest friend. Right?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” I begin.

“You were the only one she ever talked about to me,” he says. “She always spoke about you as if you were a sister.”

“When? Like, when you had her as a TA? How did I even come up in the conversation?”

“I wanted to know more about you,” James says. “You were always so distant with me. Remember? I had to figure out who you were. I didn’t—couldn’t—ask you directly because you’d block me out. So I wanted to know what your friends thought.”

“And why are you only telling me this now?” I ask him. “I had no idea you were discussing me behind my back!”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is!” I exclaim. Then I sigh. “But I’m curious. What did Summer say about me?”

“She praised how independent you were,” he says. “And it’s not so much
what
she said, Celeste, as the
way
she said it. I could tell she looked up to you. A hell of a lot.”

“That’s funny,” I murmur. “I never got that impression.”

“That’s what I’ve been struggling with,” James admits. “That’s what she made it seem like, and then she went ahead and acted in exactly the opposite way. That’s why I say I think she’s faking.”

I scoff. “I doubt it.”

“I’m serious,” James says. “And I think—if you talk to her—if you two make peace? Maybe she can be reasoned out of pursuing these made-up charges against me.”

“James, you know I’d do anything for you. But I don’t think Summer is in any position to listen to me.”

“But she does care,” James says. “She cares about what happens to you. Deep down, she does. You say you two were friends since you were girls?”

“Well, yeah,” I admit. “This grad school experience was meant as a way for us to rediscover our glory days,” I bark a laugh. “And look how well that turned out.”

“Does she know about the cancer?” James asks, point blank.

I blink.

“No,” I tell him after a moment. “No. Nobody does. Other than you.”

“But she suspects something,” James counters. “That’s why she told me the thing she did.”

“Maybe,” I admit. “Then again, no.” I shake my head. “I moved in with you right around the time I found out. And when I went back to my old place, Summer was too preoccupied with whatever guy she was seeing to pay me any mind.”

“Give her some credit,” he murmurs. “She might be more observant than you think.”

“So what if she is?” I demand, suddenly on the offensive. “Why should she know or care about what’s happening to me? I’m not going to go back to her and announce it out of the blue. How do you propose that’s going to work, James?
‘Oh hi Summer, it’s me, guess what, I know you’re vengeful and spiteful and a total, utter bitch who’s defaming my boyfriend on a made up rape charge, but I thought you should know I have cancer, so yeah, and now you should feel sorry for me.’
” I grunt. “Please. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

James pulls into his parking spot in the basement. “Not exactly like that, no,” he says. “But not entirely far off from it, either.”

I shake my head. “I’m not telling her about the cancer, James. I can go
talk
to her, if you insist, to try to get her to maybe drop the charges, but I’d only do it because you asked. Otherwise, there’s no way in hell I’m demeaning myself by crawling back to her. No. No way.”

“I hope you’ll reconsider,” James says softly. “I know you, Celeste. And I know you don’t want to lose one of your closest friends, no matter how much you think you two drifted apart.”

“That ship sailed long ago, James. I can’t believe you’re the one trying to talk me into it. You think I take what she did to you lightly? Of course not! How can I make peace with someone like that?”

I take a deep breath. This sort of division is
not
helping my headache.

“She’s trying to ruin our life.
You
mean so much more to me than she does.”

“Like I said,” he opens my door. “She may not be the driving force behind this.”

10.

It’s stupid, but I spend the rest of the day worried about my botched exam.

I just wanted to do
something
right. Schoolwork is one of the few things I have control over. I control my own destiny in my grades. It can’t be taken from me, nor does it present any unpleasant surprises.

I ask James what he thinks I should do. To my surprise, he reveals that he’s already spoken to my professor and arranged for me to either finish the remainder of the test out-of-hours, or simply be graded on the portion I had completed.

I tell him I want to finish it all, and go write my professor an email asking for the date. I get a reply less than fifteen minutes later, and just like that, it’s all arranged.

I go up to James’s study and thank him for speaking on my behalf.

He says he did it because he knew it was important to me. I feel a flush of love.

And right on the spot, I make my decision.

“I’ll talk to Summer for you,” I say. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.” He smiles. “I have a feeling you’ll feel better about everything once you do, too.”

I make a face. “Let’s just say… I’m not holding my breath.”

I walk downstairs and continue prepping for tomorrow’s exam.

It’s to be held in the late afternoon, so I can double up on studying through the night
and
get a reasonable amount of sleep.

***

It’s late when I walk over to the kitchen sink, pour a glass of water, and down my chemo pills.

I wince as I swallow.

Going by past experience, I fully expect to be hurling my guts out sometime in the next two hours.

So, I collect my books, pick out a little blankie, and cozy up against the wall opposite the bathroom door.

11.

James wakes me up the next morning.

“Hey,” he says. “Hey, Celeste. You didn’t come up to bed.”

I blink at him through grainy eyes. The room is filled with sunlight.

“Shit!” I gasp. “Shit, what time is it?”

“Just after two,” he says gently. He squats down and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Relax. You’ve got plenty of time before your test.”

I sag in relief. I start blowing out a heavy breath—then catch myself and stop.

With James so close, I’m conscious of subjecting him to lethal morning breath.

“You okay over there?” he asks. He glances at the open bathroom door. “I heard you during the night.”

“I’m fine, yeah,” I say. My stomach growls loudly. James tilts his head to the side. “I had my pills at night, instead of this morning. I didn’t want to be running and throwing up during the exam.”

“And your head?” James asks. He brushes a lock of hair out of my forehead and softly touches the spot I’d hit. “Headaches?”

“Not too bad,” I say. “I’ve got codeine for that, remember?”

“Come on,” James says, helping me up. “Let’s get you ready for the day. I’ve got the shower running for us upstairs.”

“Oh,” I blush, and give a shy smile. “Okay.”

***

James makes sure the water is the perfect temperature. He takes off his robe and steps under the stream. He takes my hand and pulls me after him.

“Hey,” he says. “Come here.”

He twists us around so his back is toward the spout and I’m facing him. He pulls my hips toward his. His cock is flaccid and warm under the stream.

He stares into my eyes and we stand like that, right under the stream. “Okay?” he asks after a quiet moment.

“Okay,” I whisper.

He reaches behind my back for a shampoo bottle. “I’m going to wash your hair,” he says.

“Okay.”

We switch places so my shoulders are under the stream. I dip my head back. James pours a little of the shampoo between his hands and rubs them together. He reaches up, watching me, and lathers his fingers through my hair.

I close my eyes and fall victim to the sensations surrounding me. I can feel James’s sturdy fingers against my scalp.

Mmmm,
I sigh.

The sound of the water hitting the tiled floor.
This is so nice
, I think.

The fresh, citrusy scent of the shampoo.

He works in silence. I can feel his intensity and concentration. His cock brushes against my leg. A tingling feeling erupts all over my skin.

I lose myself to the amazing massage he gives me. He rubs his fingers in small circles against my head, never with too much pressure, but never too softly, either. Then he spreads them and lets them encompass my entire skull. He works them through my hair from the roots to the tips.

I marvel at how amazing being taken care of like this feels.

“You like that?” James asks. His arousal grows larger against my hip.

“Mhmm,” I say languidly.

“That’s nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you next,” he whispers. He rinses the shampoo out of my hair.

Then he brings his wet lips to my ear.

“I’m going to make you come, Celeste,” he says. His hands crawl around my body and slide down my front. “But only if you tell me how much you want me.”

His finger dips down and runs over my folds.

“I want you, baby,” I say. I gasp as his fingers press into me. “Mmm, yes. I want you.”

“Where do you want me?” he rumbles. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I want you inside me,” I say. James picks up a bar of soap and uses it to lather my belly and chest.

“What do you want inside of you?” he asks. His cock presses fully into my skin.

“
You,” I say, reaching back and grabbing him. He’s slick under the falling water. “I want this cock… I want all of you… filling me… to the very brim.”

He grows as I stroke him. He rubs the soapy lather over my arms and back, then lets the shower wash it off.

“Turn around, then,” he whispers.

I do.

“Lift your leg.”

I place it against the side. I bite my lip involuntarily when I see his cock. It’s full and hard and looks so absolutely beautiful under the falling water.

James leans down and soaps me up. Up one leg, and then the next. His hands work over my thighs, my calves, my ass. He cleans the spots between my toes.

But he does not yet return to my pussy.

“James…” I shudder.

“Rinse off,” he tells me.

Again, I simply comply.

“I want to fuck you so very much,” he rasps. His cock is quivering against his stomach. “And I don’t want to hold back, Celeste.”