by Marie Skye
The doors slide open and I hurry off the elevator. Not paying attention to my surroundings I walk mindlessly through the halls trying to find the exit. As luck would have it, I make a wrong turn somewhere and wind up in the emergency room. Anger begins to roll through me as I look for someone to guide me the fuck out of this godforsaken hospital, away from sickness and the hopeless truth.
That’s when I see her.
Dressed in her regular clothes with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, she stands in front of a stretcher speaking to a what looks like a bum. I make my way closer, listening as the man makes a pass for her and attempts to touch her. Remaining composed, she shies away from his touch and forces a tight smile.
“As tempting as that sounds, Mr. Wright, I’m going to have to decline. Now, why don’t you just lie down and sleep it off.”
“I wasn’t always a drunk,” he stammers, reaching for her again. Instantly I see red and before I can think better of it, I’m stalking toward the asshole, mindset on putting his nose across his face.
“I know Mr. Wright that’s why I tell you to get help every time someone brings you in off the street. You’re better than this,” Rylee says softly, removing his hand from her forearm. Her eyes find mine and it’s almost as if she can read the thoughts running through my head because she warns me off by jerking her head.
“If you would’ve known me ten years ago, you wouldn’t say no. Ten years ago, you’d be asking me out,” Mr. Wright slurs as he releases his hold on her forearm and shoves a thumb into his chest.
“I bet and if I wasn’t already taken I’d be even more incline to take you up on your invitation.”
“You’re married?” he asks, nearly falling off the stretcher.
“No, but you see that big guy standing over there with a grimace on his face?”
Mr. Wright turns his head and meets my glare.
“That guy? He’s your boyfriend?”
My gaze slices back to Rylee and the hell coursing through me flees as she tosses me a wink.
“He is,” she confirms. To add extra emphasis, she blows me a kiss before turning her attention back to Mr. Wright. “Now, lay down and get some rest. Tomorrow is a new day.”
I unclench my fists and shove my hands in my pockets as she makes her way to me. With a tight smile on her face, she laces her arm through mine.
“Play along,” she whispers. As she ushers me out of the emergency room, I draw her closer to my side and decide Rylee’s little spectacle is not only the perfect distraction from the anguish consuming me but it’s also an opportunity for me to get the upper hand in my quest for her.
Once we step outside she tries to untangle our joined arms. Tightening my hold on her arm, I meet her wary gaze.
“Gio,” she whispers.
“Play along,” I mock. Keeping our arms joined, I turn slightly so I’m standing in front of her and bend my knees, bringing us eye level. “So, Mr. Wright—”
“The EMS bring him in at least once a week,” she interjects.
“So, it’s safe to say that he hits on you regularly?”
“He doesn’t mean any harm and now, he thinks I’m with you so, he’ll probably back off altogether,” she rambles on.
“We should play it safe just in case,” I suggest, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes narrow in confusion and before she can question me, I flash her a grin. “It’s the perfect excuse for you to agree to dinner with me.”
“Dinner.”
“Or lunch, whatever you want.”
“A date.”
“That’s right.”
“But—”
“But, I’m your boyfriend,” I tease her.
“You’re not.”
“Go out with me, Rylee,” I say quietly. The tone of my voice is surprising to my own ears but, I don’t harp on it. Instead, I watch her contemplate her next excuse as she gnaws on her lower lip.
“Fine,” she finally says. “One date and only because I hate lying to Mr. Wright.”
A grin spreads across my face as she smiles back and for the first time in months I feel somewhat victorious because a date with Rylee is a win in my book.
4
Between Rylee’s upcoming exams and the two additional nights Betty had me dancing, finding a day we were both free to go out was nearly impossible. However, I wasn’t about to give up and so, when she mentioned her boards were this morning, I decided tonight was the perfect opportunity for us to go out. Not only was I not working, but she didn’t have to study or stress over a test anymore. We could actually unwind and enjoy one another.
Sliding my arms through my leather jacket, I notice Frankie leaning against my bedroom door staring at me.
“You shaved,” she says, pushing off the door. “You must really like her,” she adds, teasingly as she smooths the back of my jacket.
“What’s not to like?” I reply as I turn around to face her.
“She’s a catch,” she agrees. “And I like her so, that’s a plus,” she adds with a wink.
I smile for a beat but, it quickly fades as I’m reminded that she’ll be spending another long night in the hospital. The guilt creeps up and the thought of canceling flashes through my head but, Frankie would lose her shit if I did that.
“You’ll call me if you need anything?”
Drawing out a sigh, she cocks her head to the side and reluctantly nods.
“If there is an emergency I will call but, other than that, I don’t want you staring at your phone waiting for bad news. Go and enjoy yourself, Gio. If only for one night, have some fun for the both of us and don’t worry about everything else.”
Leaning forward, I press a kiss to her cheek.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“I mean it, Gio. Rylee seems like a really nice girl, show her a good time and don’t be a grump,” she orders, pulling away to eye me sternly. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she adds, playfully. It’s a side of my sister I haven’t seen in what seems like forever. A side of her I miss. “And if you’re going to sleep with her, don’t act like a douche afterward.”
“You have to be a douchebag to act like one,” I argue.
“Right so you’re single because?”
“I choose to be,” I say pointedly. It’s the truth. If the right girl came around, and I wanted to see where things could go, I wouldn’t be a douche. I’d put the effort in and give it all I had. The shit thing is, if the right girl happens to be Rylee, I’m fucked. I don’t have the time or the mindset to make anything work right now. The only thing I can focus on is Matteo.
“Your phone beeped,” my sister says, interrupting my thoughts. Pulling it from my pocket, I glance down at the screen and see a text from Rylee with her address. Lifting my head, I throw Frankie a wink and kiss her cheek.
“I gotta go,” I say quickly. She reminds me once more to have a good time and assures me not to worry about her or Matteo.
Once I’m in my car, I think about the last week and the playful banter Rylee and I engaged in. Stressed and all, she’s got a ton of personality and I learned a little more about what makes the good nurse tick. I learned she’s the youngest of five girls and the only one who isn’t married. She’s also not in a rush to settle down. Her career is important to her, and that’s mainly because her mom raised her and her sisters on her own. Without getting into it too much, she also revealed her father passed away before she turned one from a heart attack.
Aside from her family, she is a loyal friend and tries to stretch her time between the family she was born into and the one she chose. An endearing quality if you ask me and I found it made me respect her even more than I already did.
She really became the girl of my dreams when she told me her favorite sport was football and that the Cowboys were her team. That information was how I decided on how our date should play out.
Arriving at her apartment, I park in one of the visitor spots and make my way to her door. My knuckles barely touch the d
oor, before it swings open and I swear on everything that is holy, her smile knocks the wind out of me.
“I wasn’t waiting by the window or anything, I swear,” she says quickly. “I actually opened the door to—”
“You look beautiful,” I interrupt, letting my eyes sweep over her petite frame. Dressed in a pair of leggings and an off the shoulder sweater that reveals a hot pink bra strap, she’s just as I pictured she’d look not wearing those scrubs. Her legs are lean but toned, and it takes every bit of self-control not to picture them wrapped around my waist. My sister’s voice echoes in my ear, reminding me not to be a douchebag.
“Thank you,” she whispers, a faint blush crawling up her face. If a simple compliment can entice a blush, I wonder what a filthy mouth will do. All the things I’ve dreamed of doing to her flash before my mind and my dick begins to stir with anticipation.
I’m not fucked.
I’m motherfucked.
“You ready?”
“I was born ready,” she says, stepping closer to me and pulling the door closed.
It’s an innocent response that shouldn’t make me want to bend her over and see how ready she truly is. Maybe my sister is right, maybe I am a fucking douchebag.
Taking her hand, I pull her against my side and usher her towards my truck. In my head I silently calculate how long it will take me to get to the sports bar. I tell myself once we’re surrounded by other people and focused on the game, I’ll be too distracted to engage in anymore dirty fantasies of Rylee. I just have to control myself on the way there and keep my eyes on the road and not on her legs.
Easy as pie.
Fucking pie.
I love pie.
“Are you okay?” Rylee asks as I start the engine.
“Yeah, fine,” I tell her, wiping my brow with the back of my hand.
“You look a little off,” she continues.
“Everything is good,” I assure her as I peel away from the curb and fight for focus.
“If you’re having second thoughts—”
“No,” I say immediately. “It’s just—”
I turn my head slightly and the moment my eyes fall onto her mouth I realize I’ve made a big mistake. Abruptly, I slam on the brakes and pull the truck onto the side of the road. Her eyes flash with concern as I unbuckle my seatbelt and go with my gut.
“One taste,” I grunt as I lean over the console and reach for her face. Those hazel eyes of hers flicker with surprise as my hand cups the back of her head. Guiding her closer, I pause when our lips are only a breath apart.
“You good with this?” I murmur. Her head jerks slightly and it’s all the permission I need before my mouth is on hers, working her soft plump lips.
Heaven.
Right there in my arms and against my lips.
My tongue slides between them and meets hers. The kiss is soft at first and we both take our time, tasting and exploring. Inching closer to me, she wraps her arms around my neck and changes the pace. My fingers thread through her long locks as I alternate between sucking and nipping at her lips and I get lost in Rylee. So fucking lost, I forget about my responsibilities. I forget my life is a mess, and that there is a little boy who is fighting for his life. I forget I’m all he and my sister have. I get so lost, I drift away from the nightmare that’s been consuming me and start to remember how it feels to live.
A kiss isn’t supposed to have that much power on a person. It’s not supposed to pulse life into another soul.
She’s first to pull away and I’m sure that’s a good thing because I don’t know that I ever would’ve. I would’ve continued to kiss her until neither of us could breathe. Keeping her arms around my neck, she touches her forehead to mine and takes a deep breath.
“One taste,” she whispers.
“Yeah.”
“Was it enough?”
Not even close but it has to be because, for the first time in my life I don’t want to fuck something up. For the first time in my life, I want to try.
One kiss.
One girl.
One chance at doing it right.
5
By the grace of God, we made our way to the bar. However, the crowd and the game didn’t take my mind off the girl sitting across from me. A few drinks later and Rylee was looser than I had ever seen her. She was joking around, rooting for the Cowboys and making me smile more than I had in the last few months.
She was the perfect fix for a broken soul and instead of my mind conjuring all the ways we could mess a bed; I found myself hanging on her every word. I wanted to know everything about her.
Her past and her future.
Her secrets and her dreams.
It wasn’t until half-time when she shifted gears and took the focus off herself.
“You basically know my life story, Gio,” she said, licking buffalo sauce off her thumb and pointing an accusing finger at me. “And I know almost nothing about you other than you’re a great uncle, supportive brother and an amazing kisser. It doesn’t seem fair.”
She’s right. Throughout all the texts and since I’ve picked her up, we’ve spoken very little about me and if I’m being honest, that has been my intention. It’s not that I don’t want to give Rylee the same respect she’s given me but, I’ve never been one to be very forthcoming about my personal life. Maybe it’s because there isn’t much to tell or simply that I’m ashamed of the things I’ve done in my past. The things I continue to do because there is no other choice.
Life has never been easy for me and my sister. Our father wasn’t much of a father and our mother had taken off when we were just kids. We had to learn to care for ourselves as an act of survival. When shit went bad—which it often did, it was up to us to fix it. No one was going to swoop in and make things right.
“What do you want to know?” I ask. Knowing I’m walking into fire, I lift the long neck beer bottle to my lips and wait for the onslaught of questions.
“I want to know you,” she replies softly. “And before you start, I already know the basics. I know you help your sister. I know Matteo’s condition and I know it’s killing you that he’s so sick but before life threw curve ball at you, there were other things about you that made you who you are today and I’d like to know them.”
I can guarantee she wouldn’t.
I can promise her she wouldn’t want to know that I sold drugs on the street to keep the electric on or that I stripped four nights a week so my nephew could get on the transplant list. I doubt she’d want to know I dropped out of high school or that I was arrested for stealing a car.
In fact, I’m certain Rylee wouldn’t like anything about my past and the future don’t look to bright either.
“Not much to tell,” I begin, draining the bottle before placing it back on the table. “I didn’t finish school,” I admit, deciding to pick and choose my truths. If I filter through the grit, then maybe there will be hope a girl as good and pure as her can be with a man who is as hopeless as me.
“My old man wasn’t too happy with it but, he didn’t push me. Instead, he told me to get a job and earn my keep. I was good with my hands and the guy next door took pity on me. He gave me a job, taught me how to build something out of nothing and I’ve been working ever since. My sister and I are tight, even more so since she’s raising Matteo on her own. I’m a simple guy, Rylee. I like football and my sister’s lasagna. Give me a beer every once in a while and I’m happy. And, if there is a God who wants to grant my nephew a miracle then that’s all I need.”
Reaching across the table, she takes my hands and intertwines our fingers.
“Those things don’t make you simple, they make you, you.”
“Yeah, I’m just not sure if that’s a good thing or not,” I replied honestly.
“It’s a good thing,” she whispers. “A really good thing.”
She squeezes my hands and I glance behind her at the flat screen television. I was never one to take a compliment. Probably because I can count on one h
and how many I’ve received throughout my life. Dragging my eyes away from the game, I force myself to meet her gaze.
“How about another round?” I question. She flashes me that smile, and it kick starts my pulse once more.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” she teases.
“Do I have to?”
“No.”
One girl.
One word.
One chance to get it right.
Without bothering to order another round, I ask for the check and pay the tab. The game is forgotten. As is the heavy truth and the nagging guilt that I wasn’t completely honest about my life. The only thing that seems to exist is the girl I’m with and the acceptance she provides.
The light she offers in an otherwise dark world.
Using the excuse of the bar being too loud, she suggests we go back to her place and finish watching the game. However, we both know the game will be over by the time we get there. We are also very aware our clothes will be off and I’ll be buried between her legs.
6
Sex has always been easy for me, even more so after I started working at SIX. Usually, all I need to do is find any willing girl, show her some attention and then fuck her until we’re both sated and neither of us can possibly go another round. Then, depending where we are, I either send them on their way or I pull my pants up and jet for the door. There are no false pretenses, no awkward moment when I promise to call—there is just the used condom in the trash and the memory of a good time.
However, as we enter Rylee’s apartment, I realize sex isn’t always supposed to be like that. It’s not always a race to get one another off. Sometimes, you got to take your time. Sometimes, you got to explore, enjoy and savor. Sometimes, you realize one night might not be enough.
Rylee turns to me and nervously gnaws on her lower lip.
“The game is over,” she says softly.
Nodding, I pull my hands out of my pockets and move to close the distance between us. Once I reach her, I lay one hand on her shoulder and cup her chin with the other.
