She nodded. When he was halfway to the kitchen, the double doors to the bedroom still open, Mack sat up. She didn't even try to be graceful about it, just stepped into Ryan's shorts, halfway terrified that they would be way too small for her butt. Instead, they were perfect, nice and baggy, but not so much that they threatened to fall off. Next she grabbed her shirt, and pulled it down before sliding the towel away from her body.
"Trade you," Ryan said, holding out a handful of pills.
With a heavy sigh, she took them in one hand, passing the towel to him with the other before claiming the glass. He tossed it in the hamper in the corner, then sat beside her, waiting for her to finish the last of the kool-aid.
Half way through, she paused, cradling the glass in both hands. "How do I ever make all this up to you?"
"Kick the shit out of the cancer. That's it, Mack."
"Can I go back to work tomorrow?"
He shrugged. "We'll see. Colby has to take off early, so I'll let you hang out at least, how's that?"
She smiled and leaned over, resting her head against his shoulder. "Thanks. I hate feeling useless."
"Draw," he told her. "Paint, draw, what ever. I don't care if it's any good, but don't stop. And," he said, rubbing her stubble, "You want to dye this?"
She laughed. "Why? It's just going to fall out."
"Maybe red? I don't think yellow would work to well. Something wild and crazy for you and your punk hair."
"Yeah, and a tattoo at the back?" she teased.
He chuckled. "Flames for my hot chick." He tried to keep a straight face, but it didn't last more than three seconds, before the grin broke through.
"You're just trying to corrupt me!"
"Something like that," he said. "You trust me?"
She nodded, unsure of what he meant. Hadn't he just picked her up off the floor of his bathroom?
"I always wanted to try a henna tattoo. It'll last a few weeks. You want to be the guinea pig?" He reached up, and ran a finger down the back of her neck. "I even have an idea."
"Sure," she said, then tried to stifle the yawn.
"Then finish that, and crawl in bed."
She did, passing it over. As he walked out of the room, Mack suddenly didn't want to be alone. Things seemed so much more ominous when Ryan wasn't around. He made her laugh, and always kept the mood light, while comforting her any time she needed it.
"Coming back?" she asked his retreating back.
"Gotta tuck you in," he promised.
She slid under the covers and rolled to face the center of the bed, watching him turn off a few lights. Then he grabbed the trash can and made his way back. She heard it thump beside her, and closed her eyes, listening to his feet walk around the other side of the bed. Gently, carefully, he sat beside her and reached over to pull the blankets a bit tighter.
"Don't let me steal your bed." She lifted her lids, looking through her lashes at him.
The moonlight leaked through the windows in the apartment and only a dim light in the kitchen gave warmth to the room. In the darkness, Ryan's tattoos faded from brilliant hues to soft shades of greys and blues.
"Think of it more like a gift."
"Then at least share? I don't want to find you asleep sitting up in the morning. I'm not exactly the sexiest guest, but I'd think it's better than the couch."
She watched him swallow once, then reach out and rub his palm down the back of her head, before he found the words he was looking for. "I'm trying to be a perfect gentleman, Mack."
She nodded. "K. I'm just getting spoiled. I kinda like having my shoulder so close."
"You sure?"
"Yeah," she whispered.
"I like my own bed better anyway." He pulled back a corner and crawled in across from her.
He slid one arm under her neck, below the pillows, then pulled her just a bit closer, tucking her body against his. They lay like that a while, and Mack breathed in the clean scent of him so close to her, nudging her face just a bit closer to his neck.
"Guess this means you're ok with sleeping with your boss now?" he asked softly.
"Yeah, but I believe I said I wasn't going to fuck my boss."
"Mm. Pretty sure the doctors said you aren't allowed to do that."
"Where's your girlfriend, anyway?" Mack asked, avoiding his comment.
He laughed a bit. "I don't do so good with those."
"Why? Not like you'd have trouble finding one."
"Thing is, before I can meet someone, I kinda need to talk to them. Hell, last girl I thought was pretty, it took me months before I got the nerve up."
"You have women in here all the time. Hell, you have your hands on some pretty personal areas of half of them."
"They just want to flirt with their piercer or tattooist. Not the same thing, Mack."
She just wasn't able to let the thought go. "Yeah, but the last girl you had a thing for, pretty sure she didn't shoot you down cold."
"Not exactly. Didn't work out quite like I'd planned, though. What about you? I can't believe you aren't surrounded by a little fan club."
"Me?" she laughed. "Ryan, I'm average at everything. I'm like a walking statistic."
"Tony thought you were pretty cute."
"He's old enough to be my dad," she replied, dismissing that. "I'm the girl that sits in the coffee shop every day for a year and only has someone stop once to ask me about what I'm drawing."
He sighed. "See, that's the thing. When a woman is alone, it's kinda intimidating. Usually she's involved in something else, like drawing, and doesn't even look up to see who's around her."
"I guess."
"Trust me. Any girl that can pull off a flat top doesn't have a lot to worry about."
Mack laughed. "Let me know when you find one," she teased.
"I was trying to sleep with her."
She paused, then glanced up, her heart suddenly beating faster. The way he'd said that came across different from what she knew he meant. Biting her bottom lip, she nodded.
"Thanks, Ryan. Thanks for trying to make me feel better, and making me feel a bit less - I dunno - destroyed."
"I'm not trying to pad your ego, Mack. You're beautiful. Even puking in my trash can, or glaring at me about the kool-aid." His hand caressed the back of her neck, and he looked down at her. "I suck at giving compliments, sweetie, but if you say you're not pretty one more time, I'll kiss you to show how wrong you are."
"But I'm not." She was simply unable to believe that this beautiful man holding her in his arms could think anything else.
His eyes flicked to hers, then to her mouth before she realized he wasn't joking! Ryan's lips brushed against hers lightly, and she sucked in a surprised breath. When she offered no resistance, he pressed harder, his tongue teasing. With a moan in the back of her throat, Mack surrendered, one hand sliding around his ribs to his back, feeling broad muscles against her finger tips. Gently, he pulled away, his eyes searching her face before he lay his head back against the pillow.
"I didn't think you were serious," she breathed, trying to pull her roaming arm back to her side.
Ryan grabbed her elbow. "Uh uh," he warned. "Leave that, and go to sleep."
Wrapped in the arms of the most amazing man she knew, Mack somehow managed to do just that, a smile on her face.
Chapter 11
She didn't wake to the alarm the next morning. It was Ryan's gentle kiss on her forehead that roused her from sleep. She groaned, and rolled onto her back, throwing her arm across her eyes, not amused at all when he laughed at her.
"I hate mornings," she muttered.
"Me, too," he agreed. "You feeling up to coffee this morning?"
Just the thought made her stomach tighten. "No."
"Lets see, I have OJ and apple juice?"
She groaned again. "Can I smell it before I commit?"
"Sure, beautiful," he said softly, brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek before pulling himself out of the bed. "Supposed to be cold today,
" he warned.
As soon as he was out of the bathroom, she claimed it. Looking in the mirror, she decided that her new hair actually did look good on her. While her stomach wasn't happy, it also wasn't unhappy, so she braved her usual toothpaste, feeling that much better for it.
"So," Ryan said, reading a stack of papers. "Chemo first, and then they're going to get you set up for radiation. Looks like there's a chance you'll get your first tattoos."
"What?" she asked.
"To line up the equipment."
That thought was on her mind for the rest of the morning. Permanent dots on her skin, tattooed by some medical professional on a girl that worked in a tattoo shop. There was something inherently wrong about that, she decided. It distracted her enough that she barely noticed when they stopped to put gas in the truck, and Ryan got back in, passing her a bottle of gator-aid. Red, of course.
At the clinic, Ryan fell easily into his roll of boyfriend, draping his arm around her shoulder as they entered the building. When the nurse, Maria, looked up behind the glass, it was obvious she recognized him from the smile on her face. Ryan steered her toward a chair, then like the knight in shining armor that he was, checked her in. Maria didn't seem to have a problem with that, at all. As the glass slid closed, Mack couldn't help but hear the ladies behind the counter giggling.
"Don't distract my nurses," she warned him.
"I didn't do anything!" he protested, sitting beside her.
"Shit, Ryan. You don't have to. You know, I thought you wore contacts the first time I met you? Those blue eyes of yours are distracting."
He laughed, turning away to hide the way his skin was turning just a shade more pink. "Quit it, Mack."
She grinned, and looked at a woman sitting across from them. Her hair was long gone, and she looked tired, but she watched the pair of them without shame.
"Am I wrong?" Mack asked her.
She couldn't have been more than forty-five, but the treatments had left her weary and haggard. Mack's question still brought a half hearted smile to her face. The woman waved it away, but Mack saw her glance at Ryan and smile.
Mack continued, "I mean, seriously, Ryan. Most everyone here is further along in this than I am, but you'll still get them to look."
"You're making me blush," he said, shoving his face in his hands.
"She's right," the woman said. Her voice was weak, but she sounded amused.
"You should see his tattoo," Mack said. "He's a real knight in shining armor."
"Shit," he laughed. "Thought you were gonna say the damned dragon."
"I dunno, I'm betting only those guys over there would complain if you dropped your pants enough to show them where that tail goes. Did you do that yourself?"
Ryan groaned, and pressed his hands to his eyes, leaning back in the chair. "A lot of it. Colby finished the back and lower abdomen."
"You do tattoos?" the woman asked, leaning forward.
"Yeah," he said. "Sterling Ink, over on Elm Street."
"Can you do anything about these?" she asked, pulling back the neck of her loose shirt enough to expose a curved line of tiny dots across her chest.
"If your radiation is done, then yeah," he said.
The corner of her lip quirked, and she sighed as if she had already dismissed the idea. "Probably really expensive though?"
"No," he said. "I know what those are. I've never charged a dime to make them something to be proud of."
"Show her your arm," Mack said.
Ryan pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, the stylized tiger nearly jumping off his skin. When the woman's eyes lit up, he moved to the chair beside her, letting her turn his arm this way and that, her eyes following the lines and colors.
"Does it hurt?" she asked.
"Compared to what you've been through? No," he said. "No more than having your blood drawn, usually."
She nodded weakly, and smiled up at him. "Friday's my last treatment. They think it's gone."
Without hesitation, he reached his arm around her shoulders, and hugged her. "Good. Then you're on the home stretch. I'm Ryan, by the way."
"Leanne," she said. "What was the name of your shop again?"
"Sterling Ink. If you're here tomorrow morning, I'll bring a card."
She nodded, just as the nurse pushed open the door. "Leanne?"
"That's me," she told Ryan.
He stood, and grabbed her elbow gently, helping her to her feet. "Good luck, Leanne."
"Thanks, Ryan." She walked slowly behind the door, a little smile on her face.
When he sat beside Mack again, she patted his leg. "That was really sweet."
"She had breast cancer," he said. "Probably a double mastectomy."
"Yeah, and you made her smile."
"And you," he said, the boyish smirk coming back.
"I think your next tattoo should be wings," she said. "I never really believed in angels before I met you, but yeah. You're making all of this a lot easier. You know that, right?"
He nodded slowly, looking at the floor. "Yeah, that's kinda my job."
"Mackenzie?" another nurse called. It was Maria again. They both stood, but she shook her head. "We'll come get you when we do her chemo, Ryan, but you can't come for the first part."
"K," he said, grabbing Mack's hand. He kissed it quickly. "I'm right here when you need me."
In the hall, Maria became chatty, and not surprisingly, it was about Ryan. "So he does tattoos?"
"Yeah. He's been doing it for I think ten years now."
"And, does he really offer them to cancer survivors for free?"
Mack just shrugged. "Wouldn't shock me. He lost his mom to breast cancer. He's been a saint. You can ask him, though."
She nodded. "I might. I'd say you have no idea how much it helps, but you probably do."
The procedure went faster than Mack expected. First they took radiographs of her abdomen and pelvis, then drew blood, then more tests. She felt like she was poked and prodded everywhere. The radiation itself only took a few minutes, then Maria was leading her back to a large open room.
"We're out of private rooms today," she said. "Starting next week, you'll be here just once a week for chemo, like the rest of them, but we'll be doing radiation daily instead."
"Is that normal?" she asked.
Maria shrugged, and gestured to a chair. "Every case is a little different. Your doctor wanted to make sure that we stopped the spread of cells quickly, because of the stage you're in, so you're using the newest regimen."
Mack just nodded. "Gotcha," she said, sitting and holding her arm out for the catheter.
"Thing is, once a week chemo is harder, because we use a stronger dose. Are you still vomiting?"
"Yes," Ryan said, being escorted in by another nurse. "She'll tell you she's fine, but she's having breakthrough nausea."
"Ok. Then I'll have the doctor prescribe something stronger. She also got her first tattoos," Maria told him.
"Soon, I'll talk you into a real one," he said, sitting beside her. "Colby wants to give you a ribbon."
Mack looked at him, and shook her head, not following.
"You know, like the pink ribbons for breast cancer?"
"Oh, hell no," Mack said.
"Purple is for cervical," he told her.
"Still no. I'm ok with purple, but not a ribbon."
"Ok, now lean back," Maria said. "You might feel a bit tired today, and that's ok. I'll be back if you need me." With that, she left, leaving the pair alone.
"You gonna show me your tats?" Ryan teased.
Mack shrugged and pushed at the waist of her pants, showing him the small dots next to her hip. When her hand brushed across the skin, she sucked in a quick breath, and glanced down.
"Hurt?" he asked, worried.
"Like a sunburn," she admitted.
"I have some stuff at the shop to make that feel better. How are you feeling otherwise?"
"Pretty good, actually. Although, usually that means it's the calm before
the storm."
"Well, warn me if you're going to puke, and I'll make a mad dash for a trash can."
Mack laughed, well aware that anti-nausea meds were included in her drip, but also that she'd spent too much time with trash cans lately. The sound seemed to echo in the room, and a few people looked over.
"You aren't picking on that girl are you?" Leanne called from the far side.
"Maybe a little," he admitted. "She's got me trained pretty well to fetch vomit receptacles."
A few of the other patients chuckled at that, understanding all too well.
"I see what you mean about being a knight in shining armor," Leanne said.
Mack tapped his shoulder. "Ryan, just show her the tattoo."
"I'm not taking my shirt off."
"Then just lift it up," she told him. "I think it's your best one."
Leanne waved him over, and Ryan went obediently. From her angle, Mack could only tell that he'd pulled his shirt up high enough for the woman to see the tattoo. The young girl sitting beside her looked over, leaning a bit. With a dramatic sigh, Ryan turned to her, showing her the armor peeking through his skin, then shoved at his left sleeve to expose the artwork there.
She couldn't help but notice how he made everyone around him just a bit less weary, and a few more smiles found their way to faces. As the ladies across the room, and a few men, asked about his tattoos, Mack smiled, and let her eyes drift closed. He had to be an angel. Ryan was just too kind, too gentle, and too perfect to be anything else.
The next thing she knew, he was kissing her forehead again, his hand gently caressing the skin at her wrist. "You're done, sweetie," he whispered.
"You make them smile," she muttered around her parched mouth. "Where's that gator-aid?"
He held it up, unscrewed the lid, and passed it over. She tried to lift it to her mouth, but just felt like every muscle in her body had decided to take a vacation. Her hand shook a bit, and she took a long gulp before passing it back.
"Do I make you smile, too?"
"Yeah," she said. "You make this shit almost fun."
He laughed at that. "Good. You still want to go to work today or are you too stoned?"
One More Day Page 9
