Blue

by Jill Patten

Okay, he took it too far. I’m appalled. “Dad!” I shriek, staring him down. “Seriously?”

  “Phoebe—”

  Blue interrupts Dad. “Phoebe, it’s okay. Your father has every right to want the best for his only daughter. Be thankful you have a father who cares. If he didn’t question me, I’d question his parenting skills.” He chuckles and winks at me. Is he giving me a secret code to let me know everything is okay?

  My dad snorts and Mom gives a relieved laugh too.

  “You know, Lance, I think I might like you. I like your honesty, that’s for sure.” Dad digs back into his dinner.

  Blue shoots me a gleaming smile as if he’s won some kind of unknown battle. “Thanks, sir, that means a lot to me.”

  “Please, call me Marvin,” Dad says then goes back to eating. He doesn’t say another word as we polish off our plates, but Mom asks him simple questions I already know like, does he have siblings and what does he enjoy doing in his free time.

  Listening to him talk about surfing brings me back to the day he tried to teach me. It’s still hard for me to comprehend how he witnessed everything he did, and here he is sitting in my kitchen, eating dinner with not only me but my parents, too. If anyone had asked me when we left Panama City if I’d ever speak to Blue again, much less see him, I would have said no in a nanosecond. It all still doesn’t make sense to me.

  There are so many questions I have for him. The problem is, will he answer any of them honestly?

  BLUE

  Being with Phoebe feels like high school all over again. Not that I ever had any serious relationships that brought me having dinner with the parents, but I still got hit with interrogations for prom and other special events.

  The difference, though, is the locals know who my family is. So once they link us together, I’m passable whether I’m a good guy or not. At one point in my life, I relished in the fact that money could buy my way out of anything. It didn’t take me long to learn to hate that fact.

  As soon as dinner is over, Phoebe does practically everything but drag me down the hall to her bedroom. Any other time, I’d be excited thinking she’s ready to have her way with me, but since her parents are home, I’m pretty sure she’s expecting answers from me.

  During dinner, I revealed a few things about myself she doesn’t know. Not that I’m keeping any secrets from her because I don’t have any. But my parents and finances are the two least favorite things I enjoy talking about.

  Phoebe leads me to her bed then walks to the door and closes it.

  “Don’t you think you should lock it too? What if they walk in on us?” I ask, teasing her so she’ll release any pent-up tension she might have.

  She narrows her eyes at me as she walks over to join me on the bed.

  With my palm facing her, I hold my arm out in front of me. “I’m teasing, I’m teasing,” I say, laughing lightly.

  She plops down beside me and situates herself in the middle of the bed so she’s facing me. “Okay, tell me who Lance King is,” she demands, sounding dead serious. “I want to know everything there is to know about you.”

  “Damn, you don’t waste any time, do you? Just jump right into it.”

  “I’ve done things with you I’ve never done before with other guys. Hell, I’ve never had sex with a guy without him being my boyfriend first, so I think I’m entitled to know more about the person I’m having sex with. Unprotected sex at that.”

  I got to give it to her, she makes a strong point.

  Nodding my head, I agree to her request. “Hit me up. What do you want to know?”

  “So you’re wealthy and you steal?”

  Money. It’s always about the fucking money. “I’m not wealthy, my parents are. There’s a huge difference.”

  She nods. “Okay, you’re right. But why steal from people when you can just ask your parents for it? And your living arrangement has me baffled.” She’s shaking her head as if she really doesn’t grasp the reason why. I figured my convo at dinner was enough to give her an idea.

  Running my fingers through my hair, I tell her, “It’s not that easy, Phoebe. For one, I haven’t spoken to my parents in years. They expect me to live along their expectations, and I refuse to do so. Well, my mother doesn’t say anything. She sits back like a wallflower, wasting away. It’s almost as if she doesn’t exist.” I hesitate long enough to swallow the sickness churning in my stomach. God, I hate talking about them. “Their lavish lifestyle isn’t for me. I hate everything about money. It transforms you into an evil sadistic monster. My father thinks with money he has power, and with that power he can make or break me. I should know. I’ve been on the receiving end of his fist far too many times. I don’t need shit from him. I have enough to get me by, and any more than that is wasteful. There are so many kids who starve every day because Jane Doe has to have that Michael Kors bag or John Doe has to have one more Mustang because his twenty-car garage full of muscle cars isn’t enough.”

  Her gentle blue eyes soften under my intense stare. “I steal for them, Phoebe,” I confess.

  She doesn’t say anything, only grabs my hand and holds it in hers.

  “There’s a local children’s home a few blocks from my apartment I visit regularly. Most of them are without parents, not because they’re dead or given up for adoption, but because their parents aren’t capable of providing for them. Those kids don’t have a voice. It’s not fair they were dealt the short end of the stick. I know it’s wrong, but after years of watching the rich throw their money on material things, what does a few hundred here and there hurt on more useful things for these kids?”

  “Is that what you did with my money?”

  I nod. “Yes. As soon as I left the airport, I rode straight over to the children’s home and gave the ladies in the office the cash. Sorry I stereotyped you wrong,” I say, lifting her hand to my lips. Tenderly, I kiss inside her palm. “Do you forgive me?”

  She smiles, but her chin quivers for a second as if she’s holding back tears. It takes her a few seconds before she answers me. “How could I not? But how many people did you peg wrong like you did me?” Her voice squeaks, and she bites her lip to gain control of her emotions.

  “Come here,” I say then grab her and pull her to me. “I don’t know…I don’t know and I never thought about it until now. That’s why I’ll never do it again.” I hold her tight, knowing I never want to let her go. Her head rests against my chest, and she has my shirt fisted in her hands.

  “How is it you can come off as such an asshole but in the same breath do something so sweet it makes my insides turn to mush?” she asks, lifting her head up to look at me. Her eyes glisten, and she blinks rapidly to dry them up.

  Damn, those beautiful blues are going to be the death of me. “I’m only an asshole to people who deserve it. Plus, I have a reputation to protect.” I chuckle. “Most people leave me alone because they know I can be a hothead, and that usually works to my advantage. That is, until someone punks out and decides to call the cops.” I shake my head with the memory. Not a proud moment, that’s for sure. “There are so many good people in the world who get shit on, and if there’s a way for me to make them feel like they matter, even if it’s for one day, then that’s what I’ll do. I’ve been in their shoes and it’s not fun.”

  Her head nods against my chest. “I get it. I often feel like one of those people sometimes.” She sits up to face me, and I hold her hands in mine so she can’t go far. “Without a transplant, my days are numbered, so it makes me wonder every day what my purpose is here on Earth. I haven’t accomplished anything spectacular in my life, so I keep waiting for my big moment to hit me.”

  “Well, if you ask me, I’d say your purpose has already happened.”

  Her eyebrows stitch together. “How so?”

  “We didn’t meet by happenstance. Our story is too unique for that. You were brought into my life for a reason. Someone upstairs must’ve known I needed someone like you.” My hands slip away from hers, and I slide
them through her short hair until they’re cradling her head. “Since the moment I…you know…I wanted more. I craved it. My friends have even told me I’m a sex addict.”

  She turns her head and tries to scoot away from me, but I hold her closer to me. I know she doesn’t want to hear about my endless list of women, but it’s the best way for me to make her understand how much her existence impacts my life.

  “Wait. Just listen. The reason I’m telling you this is because once I met you, all of that changed for me. When we sat and talked that day over tacos, I knew from that moment on you were going to screw up my vision for all other girls out there. I would forever compare them to you,” I say with a light chuckle.

  She smiles but still stares at me with confused eyes.

  “Phoebe, I eat, sleep, and breathe you. You have consumed my fucking life. I’m completely and utterly infatuated with you,” I admit before guiding her lips to mine.

  My heart races in my chest as our mouths open, ready to give what the other seeks. I nearly pull away to tell her that I think I’m falling for her, but I can’t expose my feelings for her just yet. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t feel the same way about me, and there’s no way I can handle her rejection. How the hell did I trip and fall into the one feeling that’s always been off-limits?

  Her fingertips gingerly touch my head over my ears as her thumbs rest on each side of my mouth. “You can’t say these things to me, Blue,” she whispers an inch away from my mouth.

  Opening my eyes, I see hers are still closed.

  “You can’t get attached to me. I won’t allow it. In the end, you’ll just get your heart broken, and I can’t have that on my conscience.”

  My hands drop from her head, and I place my finger over her lips. “Stop,” I command with a harsh tone.

  Her eyelids flick open.

  “If you don’t have any interest in me, just say so and I’ll go home and leave you alone forever. But if I have a chance with you then let me be the judge of what happens to my heart.”

  She huffs and scrambles from my reach until she’s off the bed and standing by the window. “Now you stop,” she demands, pointing her finger at me. “Why are you making this so complicated? Why can’t we just have fun?” she asks, lifting her arms out wide.

  “We are!” I say, raising my voice louder than I intend to. “Why can’t we just enjoy each other? Why are you trying to dictate what I can and can’t do when it comes to you?”

  “Because I’m going to die young. God, why can’t you get that in your thick skull? Without a transplant, there’s no hope. Don’t you get it?”

  “So how do we get you a transplant?

  “We don’t. My parents and I are working on it. I told you already I’m on a waiting list. Now all we can do is wait for a match.”

  “Your parents can’t donate one of theirs?”

  “They’re not a match. We’ve already tried.”

  “No other relatives?”

  She shakes her head. “No, not any willing to fork over one of their lungs for my benefit. We’ve tried every option possible. This is our last resort.”

  Without even giving it a second thought, the words fall right out of my mouth. “What about me?”

  Her head snaps up to look at me. “What about you?”

  “Test mine or whatever it is they do and see if I’m a match,” I offer as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

  She stands stock-still. The only thing moving are her eyes as she repeatedly blinks like she’s trying to grasp my proposal. “Are you serious?”

  “I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t.”

  Her eyes soften. “Blue, you don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “Phoebe, I’m not an idiot. You doubting my intelligence is a bit insulting.” And it is. She acts as if I’m stupid. I know damn well what I’m getting myself into, and I’m perfectly okay with it. “As far as I know I’m as healthy as they come and if you can live off of one lung, then I can too.” If that doesn’t convince her, I don’t know what else will.

  Tears pool in her eyes, causing the blue irises to sparkle in the bedroom light. She blinks and those tears come tumbling down her cheeks. “How are you even real?” she cries.

  Standing from the bed, I walk over to her and embrace her shaking body. Her hands cover her face, and I hold her as she cries into my chest. Rubbing her back, I kiss the top of her head then rest my cheek where I’d just kissed her.

  “What you see is what you get, Phoebe. I’m not pretending to be some chivalrous guy for your benefit,” I tell her as I try not to think about what I would do if I were to lose her…for good. “You’re special to me, Phoebe. I want to do anything and everything I can to be there for you.”

  “But what would you do if you gave me a lung and then things didn’t work out between us? How would you feel? Would you resent me?”

  “I don’t think I could ever have any hard feelings toward you, but unless we’re in that situation, there’s no way of knowing. But I feel pretty damn positive, if I have the chance to save your life, I’ll never regret the decision to do so. So we better never go separate ways to find out.”

  Closing my eyes, I try to push away all negative thoughts and the realization of going back home. Now that I’m here with her in my arms, I don’t want to let her go. For the first time in my life, everything about her feels right. Our future might be fuzzy, but I’m willing to go through the dark shades to find out where it leads.

  Phoebe’s cries quietly. I take her chin and lift her face up to mine so I can look into her baby blues. “Please don’t push me away. I want to walk this journey with you,” I say low before I taste the tears lingering on her soft lips.

  She smiles against my mouth. “I think I might like that, but please, whatever you do, don’t hurt me in the process.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” If anyone is going to get hurt, I’m pretty sure it’ll be me. And I’m okay with that. It’s the chances we take for love.

  PHOEBE

  The cloudy skies bring on darkness sooner than normal, and although it’s not late, I wonder where Blue plans on sleeping for the night. He hasn’t mentioned anything about a hotel, and without a car, I don’t know if he expects me to take him somewhere or if he’ll call Uber again.

  After my moment of weakness, I hope I can persuade him to stay here for the night. When he’s holding me in his strong arms, he makes me feel like everything is going to be right in the world. I know he doesn’t hold any magical powers, but I can pretend for a while. While Mom and Dad are probably not going to be too keen on the idea, I am a grown woman, and if I want a man in my bed, by damn, I will have one.

  “So where are you staying while you’re here? You’ve still not told me how long you’re going to be here or where you’re sleeping,” I ask, still snuggled up to his warm, solid chest. His hands trace random patterns across my back, sending me into a relaxing state.

  “Good question.” His voice comes at me a little louder, and I can tell he’s looking down at me. “I was hoping you could help me out. I didn’t exactly plan this trip out all the way.”

  Looking up, I find him watching me. Maybe to gauge my reaction. His facial features are somewhere between wincing and pleading. Judging from his painful expression, I don’t think any persuasion is going to be necessary. He clearly has no plans.

  Deciding to play a game with him, I ask, “If I help you out, what’s in it for me?” I ask, arching one eyebrow.

  He gives me a smirk, and I can see his mind is going exactly where mine is. “Hmm, what would you like?” he asks as he taps the dimple in his chin.

  “Well…I have been under a lot of stress lately, so I think a nice massage would help me feel so much better,” I say, cheesing.

  A breathy laugh falls from his lips. “I’m pretty sure that’s doable.”

  “Oh, that’s not all. Don’t think you’re getting off so easily. You’ve put me through the ringer, so I think you owe me big.”

  He g
rins as he plays right along with me. “If you want to go there then I’ve got something big I can give you.”

  “Mm, I’ll take that on the side. I’m thinking more about myself. I’m stingy like that,” I say, then kiss my finger and place it in the indentation of his chin.

  He chuckles and leans back to look at me better. “Oh, okay, so this is all about what pleasures you?” He nods as if he’s on the same page.

  “Yup. Your oral services are pretty damn incredible. I think I’d like a repeat,” I say, sidling up closer to him than I already am. A reenactment of our night in his room is exactly what I’m thinking about. Against the wall…on his shoulders…annihilated by the perfected work of his mouth…

  He bursts into a hearty laugh. “I like a girl who knows what she wants, and I know exactly how to provide.” With that, he tilts my head up to him and takes my lips like he owns them.

  Once I’m breathless more than usual, he ends the kiss and looks at me with lazy eyes. “Does this mean I’m staying here tonight and tomorrow night?” He waggles his eyebrows and gives me the biggest, goofiest grin ever.

  I shake my head at his silliness. “Tomorrow too? Exactly how long are you here for?”

  “Just today and tomorrow. I leave at the ass-crack of dawn Sunday morning,” he says, wrinkling his nose and pushing out pouty lips.

  One full day is all I have with him. Looks like we’ll have to make the most of our time together, that is, if we’re left alone. These are the times I wish I had my own place. The majority of people my age are either living on one of many college campuses or they have a place of their own. Sure, they might be sharing with a friend or two, but it’s still better than being under the watchful eye of your parents. It’s kind of embarrassing to be a twenty-two-year-old still living with Mommy and Daddy. I know he’s barely older than me and his place isn’t anything to brag about, but at least he can say it’s his.

  “Yikes. You didn’t plan this out at all, did you?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No. I needed to get to you as soon as possible, so I booked my flight without thinking the rest of it through.” He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a spur of the moment type of guy.”