The F#ck It List: The Complete Story

by Rae Lynn Blaise

  Jamie’s waiting for me in the locker room. “Tough break, man. You’re a glutton for punishment.”

  I flash him a smile. “I like it a little rough.”

  He shakes his head and laughs. “Wanna go catch a drink?”

  I shake my head before I think about it too much. “I better not. I’m going to go home and get some rest.” And ice the fuck out of my knee.

  “Atta boy.” Jamie pats me on the back and waves goodbye. I’m left alone, and for once, I savor it.

  The next morning, I pull into the hospital parking lot and have to mentally pep-talk myself out of the car. My chest is tight and all I see are flashbacks of my mom suffering. It’s been a painfully shitty few days, let me tell you.

  Just as I’m breathing through it, there’s a knock on my window. Imagine my surprise when the blonde-haired brown-eyed beauty from The Sweet Spot fizzles into view. Ally H, she of the mile-long legs. My heart jumps only momentarily because I realize what’s going on before she says anything.

  Coach sent someone to babysit me. He didn’t think I’d actually do it. I know I fucked up pretty bad, okay. I get it. But ouch.

  I roll down my window and try not to stare too hard. She’s Coach’s daughter. She’s 100% off limits. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning.” She flashes a dimpled smile and holds out a cup of coffee. “I thought you might like one of these.”

  “I don’t drink coffee.” I hold up a finger and roll up the window to turn off the car. I take another deep breath before opening the door. To say I’m not excited about this day is a wild understatement. First hospital duty, now this girl following me around like a security guard. Awesome. “But thanks for thinking of me.”

  “Who doesn’t drink coffee?” She teases and tries to push the cup into my hands. I ignore it and start walking, trying to keep my head straight. This is just a reminder of how badly I fucked up and how close I am to losing everything. “That’s un-American.”

  “I play baseball. That’s as American as you can get.” I toss back.

  “You sure you aren’t a commie in disguise?”

  “The only people worried about commies anymore are in retirement homes. You’re like twelve.” This is more for my benefit than hers. Note to self: stay away.

  Not that it’s going to be a problem today. As we sign in, my stomach starts churning and I’m glad I skipped breakfast. Today is going to suck.

  “I’m not twelve.” She sticks her tongue out at me and slaps her badge on her chest. Not that I notice. “I’m eighteen.”

  “Even better.” Holy shit, she’s a baby. She can’t even drink. I cannot be so turned on by her, it’s wrong. “I’m ten years your senior, young’un. I should be worried about commies, not you.”

  “Young’un?” She smiles, so sweet, and I have to look away. “That’s cute, grandpa.”

  “Better watch it. I might spank you with my cane.”

  “Better watch it. I might like it.” This stops me in my tracks. She walks a few more feet before turning around to laugh at me. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! That’s totally gross.”

  “It really is.”

  “Kemper! Ally!” A friendly voice greets us upstairs in the kid’s wing. “Welcome. I’m so glad you two made it out today.”

  “You know how much I love these kids.” Ally hugs the lady in the jacket like she knows her. I wonder how often she comes up here, or if maybe she goes with all the guys to the hospital. Surely someone would have mentioned this? Then again, I never even knew Coach’s daughter had grown up and left boarding school, so maybe I’m just not in the loop.

  “It’s my favorite part of the week,” she says, and I have an irrational twinge of jealousy at not being her favorite anything.

  “You are a treasure. I don’t think we’ve met yet, Kemper, but I’ve got a hall full of kids who would love to meet you. I’m Ann Watkins, one of the social workers.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I force a bright smile and shake her hand. “I’m honored to be here.”

  I want to run into the nearest bathroom and puke, but I can’t exactly say that, now can I?

  “Have you been up here before?”

  “No,” I admit, a little painfully. Guilt wallops me over the head. “I haven’t had the opportunity yet. This is quite a popular place for the guys.”

  “And we are so grateful. I’ll take you in to meet a few of the kids. You can hang out for a bit, give them your autograph and take photos. The kids just love having guests and sports stars are usually their favorites. You can stay as long as you like before moving on. Whatever you’re comfortable with. They’ll just be over the moon to see you.”

  “Is David still here?” Ally pipes up before I can swallow down another mouthful of guilt and awful. “I have the team baseball I promised him.”

  “He is.” I can’t tell if Ann is happy about this or sad. If I were David’s parents, I’d be devastated. “Room 624. You can start there if you like.”

  “Great!” Ally grabs my arm and leads the way, chatting the whole time about this kid. “You’ll love David. I know this sounds awful, but he’s my favorite on the floor. He’s got leukemia, a terrible thing, but he’s a great fighter. He tells hilarious jokes and can recite stats like you wouldn’t believe. Oh.”

  She makes a stop by a small kitchenette set-up on the floor and grabs two cups of chocolate pudding. “He also loves chocolate pudding. Kid after my own heart.”

  This makes me smile. Her energy is so infectious. Maybe it won’t be so awful with her by my side?

  Ally knocks on door 624 and peeps her head in. “David? You awake?”

  “Ally!” A young voice answers. We walk in and find a young boy drowning in his hospital bed. He puts down his DS and waves happily. Once his eyes land on me, they grow about twelve sizes. “Kemper Fife?”

  “What’s up, buddy?” I slap on the biggest grin I can and high-five him. He lights up like a pinball machine. “David, right?”

  He nods, a little open-mouthed.

  “I have more surprises!” Ally sings. She produces the chocolate pudding cups and a baseball that I only vaguely remember signing. She wasn’t the one holding it when I did, I’d certainly remember that. “As promised.”

  “Awesome!” He hugs her and stares in wonder at the baseball. “Everyone signed it?”

  “All of us.” I pull up a chair on the other side of his bed. Ally perches on the foot of the bed, a giant smile on her face. It’s like she never stops smiling. And she’s so gentle with him that it shocks me. I don’t know why it does, but it does. Like this is the kind of thing she lives for, caring for people and bringing joy to their lives.

  David and Ally start talking Pokemon, which is way outside of my comfort zone, but it makes me laugh. David shows me his game, all of the Pokemon he’s collected, and teaches me how to play. I try a few battles and fail miserably, with Ally and David both laughing at me.

  “At least you can throw the ball real good,” David pats my shoulder, like he’s comforting me instead of the other way around. “How did you know you’d be a great baseball player?”

  Ally twists her hair over her shoulder and looks at me expectantly, a small smile perched on her lips. I sort of laugh at the question.

  “I don’t know that I’d say I’m a great baseball player…”

  “You totally are!” David bounces in his bed. “You’ve got the second best batting average in the league! You’ve won three Golden Gloves! They think you’re up for another this year!”

  “Whoa.” I blush. “You sure know your stuff.”

  “Told you,” Ally says with a wink. “David’s memory is one of the best.”

  “I love baseball.” David beams. “I want to play one day!”

  “Do you play?” I ask, and then immediately want to kick my own ass for asking. Of course he doesn’t play. He’s trapped in a bed, staring down cancer in the face. “I mean, did you like to play?”

  “I played second base, just like you
!” David is practically vibrating, he’s so excited. “I had to sit out the last half of the season because I was here so much, but I want to make it through the whole thing next season.” He drops his voice to almost a whisper and leans forward. “I think I might have a chance at the All Star team if I do.”

  “Hell yeah!” I fist bump him. And then immediately want to kick my ass for swearing in front of a kid. “I mean, awesome. I played little league when I was a kid, too. Except I was catcher. I never made it onto the All Star team, though. That’s quite an accomplishment.”

  “You did?” David asks, eyes wide in surprise. “Then how did you get so good?”

  I crack a smile. “I learned how to play really well in high school because I was trying to impress a girl.”

  Ally giggles but David’s face scrunches up. “For a girl?”

  “Yeah, dude.” I wink at Ally. “When you get a little older, they start to impact a lot of things you do. I wish I could say it was all love for the game, but I really only started focusing when I was trying to win over Rebecca Evans. She liked sports guys.”

  “Did it work?”

  I scratch the back of my head. “Not really. She ended up dating our star pitcher.”

  “Girls are the worst.”

  This makes me genuinely laugh. “Sometimes. But it’s okay. Because of her, I really focused, learned how to play well, and got drafted while I was in college. By then, I had found my true love—the game. There’s nothing better.”

  “I got to run the bases once.” David reclines in his bed and looks a little sleepy. “At the K.” I smile at the mention of our stadium’s nickname. “It was amazing. The field smelled so good. Like grass and sunshine.”

  “Oh, man. That’s one of my very favorite smells. That, and the leather from my glove. If they made that into a candle, I’d buy it.”

  David launched into a story about his budding little league career, telling me about his own batting average and how much he loved to play. His excitement was palpable; he’s a kid who, with enough practice, could maybe make it one day. Anyone can train long and hard enough to make it pro, but you’ve got to have the passion to really make it. And this kid has it, more than any other kid I’ve met.

  And he’s currently hooked up to a million monitors, battling something that will likely kill him before he can ever start. It hits me square in the chest, and before I know it, memories of my mom fall into my head like pop flies, toppling over one another until it’s all I can see. The wires, the beeping machines, her pale face, the way it hurt for her to breathe.n

  “I think it’s time for David to rest now.” A nurse pops her head in just before I totally lose it.

  “It was real nice talking to you, David.” I fist bump him, voice warbling, and then hurry out of the room.

  I don’t bother looking for Ally, just hurry down the hallway, biting my lip, dying for an exit. I find a stairwell at the end of the wall and burst through it, gasping for air. I’ve got to hold all my shit together, but it’s impossible with the visions plaguing me.

  It’s not fair. It’s not fair that kids have to go through this, to carry all these big dreams and know, or not know, that they’re never going to happen. David should have a long, full life ahead of him. He should be able to run and bunt and bat and win over his own Rebecca Evans because he’s got a heart of gold and an entire life before him. But he’s not going to get any of that because this terrible disease is going to kill it all before he even gets the chance.

  “Kemper?” A soft voice says behind me. Ally touches my shoulder, but I shrug her away and follow the stairs down as far as I can go, until all the sounds of the hospital disappear. She’s right behind me. “Want to talk about it?”

  I shake my head and pace, fighting to keep the emotions at bay within me. I can’t cry. I can’t scream. It’s going to do no good for David, it did no good for my mom, it’s no good for anyone. It’s pointless, stupid emotions threatening to wipe me out. I have to get my shit together.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay to feel these things.”

  “Feeling these things does nothing.”

  “Feeling these things means you’re human. It means you have a heart and compassion.”

  “Compassion isn’t going to make David better.”

  “No, but it’s going to make him happy. Sometimes that’s more important.”

  “How do you do this?” I turn to her. Her face is so sweet, so kind, so open. She can handle it, this beautiful young thing, and I’m a goddamn mess. “How do you see these kids and know there isn’t anything you can do for them?”

  “A smile, a laugh, a hug can be just as important as the most effective medication. Giving these kids something to fight for is just as important. I love these kids and I want to give them whatever happiness I can while I can. And that’s exactly what you did up there. Did you see how happy he was when you walked in? How delighted he was someone wanted to talk to him, that you wanted to talk to him?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I press my hands against my temples to stop the memories from clouding my eyes. “It won’t change anything.”

  Ally puts her hands on my shoulders and whispers, “Hope can be the most powerful thing in the world.”

  “But it—“

  She cuts me off with the sudden, soft touch of her lips. I freeze, unsure if what I think is happening is really happening, but after a deep breath and what feels like a million years, she parts my lips with her tongue, slipping it inside my mouth, and god help me, I kiss her back. I take all of the pent up frustration and hurt and turn it to her, pinning her against the wall, exploring her unbelievably sweet mouth with my own tongue.

  My mind screams Stop! Red alert! Remove your hands from the woman! But my hands are roaming up down her ass, up her spine, back down to her thighs again, and there’s nothing in the world I want more than kissing her like this. It feels like too much—I know it is—but almost as if she reads my mind, she lifts one of her legs and twines it around me, giving me an even better grip on her ass. She lets out a sigh like a tiny moan and kisses my temples, my cheeks, my eyes. I grab her hair and press her to me, trying to capture all of her essence with my body, something to drown out the anguish pumping through me. I pull back and begin kissing her throat, drinking in her smells like a starving man.

  “Your very presence is healing,” she whispers in my ear and it tears through me. We’re under the very bottom level of steps, hidden from view above. I pull her a step away from the wall, my hands still gripping her ass, and she quickly takes my cue and sinks to her knees on the floor. I gently push her backwards, burying my chest between her bent knees as I kiss over the top of her shirt, across the paper badge plastered on her breast—Ally H Ally H Ally H my mind moans—down to her skirt, careful to keep my rock-hard erection away from her. I tell myself that this is just kissing. I tell myself I’m not doing anything so terrible. I know that if I let her rocking hips anywhere near mine, that it’s going to be only moments before I’m begging her to fuck me right here in this stairwell. Instead, I find my mouth watering as I kiss down towards her hips, a craving washing over me.

  Keep reading!

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  About the Author

  New Orleans girl relocated to Denver. Tattooed connoisseur of smut. Compulsive writer of any sexy idea that drifts through my mind. Hurricanes and hot guys and crazy mountain hikes always welcome. Like to win things? Join my newsletter–I always include a giveaway with each update!


  authorraelynnblaise

  www.raelynnblaise.com

  raelynnblaise@gmail.com