by Debra Doxer
“What?” I scowl. “The fact that I don’t want to judge people?”
When he picks up the can, I notice a ring of condensation on the table. “Crap,” I mutter, wiping at it with my hand and reaching for a coaster to set down in front of him.
“Ray,” he mutters, disliking the way I try to keep the apartment as clean as we found it when we arrived. He takes nice things for granted, using an obviously expensive coffee table the same way he would a cheap one from a bargain store. But I can’t seem to do that. I walk on eggshells around here. This apartment is modest compared to the condo in LA, but I’ve learned that it’s practically luxurious by Manhattan standards, and it’s filled with nice things that don’t belong to us.
“I didn’t mean that you’re predictable in a bad way,” he says, tilting his head back to take a sip, and wincing when it hits his mouth. “This is the lemon-flavored one,” he complains, turning the can to inspect it.
“You don’t like lemon?”
“Not the artificial-flavoring kind.” Lucas puts it back on the table, resting it on the coaster this time. “I must have bought the wrong ones.”
I reach for the can and take a tentative taste. Then I try not to make a face. He’s right, it’s awful. “I’ll drink them.” I shrug.
“You like it?” He looks at me like I’m nuts.
“It’s fine.”
Shaking his head, he says, “No, it’s not. You just don’t want me to throw them out. That issue you have with being wasteful is rearing its head.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“See?” He points a finger at me. “Predictable again. And you’re not drinking that shit either if you don’t like it.”
I give him a disapproving look. “I won’t call you spoiled because I know better. But you’d be in for a very rude awakening if your father ever cut you off.”
He surprises me by grinning. “You think so?”
I nod, but now I’m not so sure as I take in his smug expression.
“Between you and me,” he says. “If my dad cut me off tomorrow, we’d only have to tough it out for a little while, until I turn twenty-one and get access to the trust fund my grandfather set up for me.”
Shaking my head, I laugh. Of course he has a trust fund.
“So you don’t have to drink crap you don’t like, and you don’t have to worry about messing up this apartment or damaging anything because I can have it all cleaned or replaced. My dad used to warn me about women wanting me for my money, but he never told me what to do if the woman I wanted refused to take a dime from me.” He leans forward, his expression turning serious. “Money is one worry I can easily erase for you. Please let me.”
Swallowing hard, nerves skitter beneath my skin. I don’t know how the conversation took this turn, but I have to ask the question, “Whose apartment is this?”
He looks at me for a long moment before answering. “Ours.”
My eyes close briefly because he tricked me, or maybe I let him. “What about the clothes and the pictures?”
“Staged,” he replies.
“You lied.” I pull in a breath, waiting for the hurt to find me.
“Yeah.” His eyes turn wary.
Leaning back against the couch, I realize that I don’t feel hurt, not really. I know why he did this. Lucas didn’t lie to make a fool of me or to be purposely mean or deceptive. He only ever lies when he’s doing it to protect me. That’s how he justifies it to himself.
He’s tense, waiting for my reaction. I can’t tell him it’s all right, because it’s not. He still lied. But without saying anything, I shift so that I can lay my head on his shoulder. He’s not going to change, and I don’t want to make him feel as though he has to.
His hand spreads across my thigh, and he leaves it there. We sit quietly this way for a while until he finally asks, “Are we okay?”
I nod and he exhales, his shoulder relaxing beneath my cheek. I think we understand each other.
“What about the nurse?” he asks. “Do you still want to help her father?”
Glancing at the stack of papers beside him, I say, “Yes. I’ll call her tomorrow and tell her.”
Lucas’s fingers squeeze my leg. “Let me do it. I want to talk to her before we agree to anything.”
I can’t see his face from this angle, but his tone sounds determined. He probably wants to vet her personally, despite everything he’s already learned about her.
“Okay,” I reply. If I’m doing this, he needs to feel comfortable with it. He wants to take care of me, and I’m starting to understand that maybe I should let him sometimes.
IT’S MOSTLY students who come in after nine to order double espressos. That or people who work the late shift. Thankfully, I don’t work the late shift, and I’m pulling off my green apron just as Gwen comes strolling in.
“Hey, party people!” she calls out to us far too loudly.
Behind me, Mitch rolls his eyes. Gwen grins at him as she plops her elbows down on the counter. She’s had flaming red streaks in her hair since January and it was jarring at first, but I’m used to it now. She also has on a yellow scarf tonight, breaking up her otherwise all-black ensemble. With Gwen, yellow means happy. Since she and Mitch are celebrating their seven-month anniversary, I think that must have something to do with her sunny flash of color.
“Where’s he taking me?” she whispers, glancing up at him to make sure he’s not listening.
“I don’t know where he’s taking you!” I answer loudly. Gwen scowls at me as Mitch starts to chuckle.
I have my friend back. Gwen seems to be thriving here at school. She has a ton of new friends, and she has Mitch. They met during freshman orientation, and she tells me that they’ve been inseparable ever since. She even helped me get my job, since Mitch already worked here and put in a good word.
I was a jumble of nerves when I first called her up. Once Lucas and I had been in the city for a few weeks, I finally worked up the courage. Yes, she was pissed at me. But thankfully, she forgave me. My story about discovering my father and then having him die from a heart attack pretty much jerked her heartstrings the same way it did for Myles. It’s a ridiculous story. I hate telling it. But I had to explain things some way.
“Before I forget, there’s a party tomorrow night,” she says. “The cousin of my roommate’s friend has a loft near Columbus Circle. Everyone’s going.”
I eye her skeptically. “The cousin of your…”
“Roommate’s friend,” she finishes, her eyes wide with excitement. “There’s going to be a live band.”
“I’ll think about it.” I grab my bag from beneath the counter and give a little wave to Heidi, my manager.
Gwen’s gaze follows me as I move around next to her. “What’s to think about?” she asks with a frown. Then her finger points at me. “You and Lucas are practically shut-ins. You need to get out a little. I mean, I know you two are constantly going at it, but come up for air once in a while… What?”
She angles her head at me, trying to see beneath the curtain of hair I let fall over my flushed face. She wasn’t exactly whispering, and now it feels like everyone in the place is staring at me.
Mitch catches my eye and winks, making my cheeks burn even hotter.
“Don’t get me wrong. I like Lucas. I’ve been rooting for you guys from the beginning,” Gwen persists. “All I’m saying is you shouldn’t make your boyfriend your whole world. If it doesn’t work out, what are you left with?”
Mitch comes up beside her, pulling on his coat. “She’s right. We’re dumping you soon if you don’t start paying more attention to us. We’re needy that way.”
Gwen turns to him, her mouth hanging open. “That’s not what I’m saying. You know that’s not what I’m saying. Right?” she asks me.
“Actually, you were saying she has a lot of sex,” Mitch supplies helpfully.
“Oh my God, you two,” I mutter, giving them the evil eye before I make a beeline for the door. As I walk through
it, I hear them laughing behind me.
Huddling close to the building, I shove my arms into my coat, finding myself grinning, warming at the way they tease me, like good friends do. I should have thought of a witty comeback to toss at them. They’re not exactly celibate. But I’m not used to the banter, and all my responses seem to come to me long after the conversation is over.
The sidewalk is teeming with people. Most have their heads down against the cold as they move quickly to their destinations. I grew up in a city, but New York City is different, and I’m finding that I like the constant noise and movement, the hum of activity that resounds even in the wee hours of the morning.
The door opens and they walk out together, looking for me. When Gwen spots me, she smiles. “You know we love you.”
“Otherwise we wouldn’t bother embarrassing you,” Mitch says.
I nod, being a good sport. “Yeah, I know. Love you guys, too.”
“We’re headed this way,” Mitch says, pointing to his left. “Can we walk you somewhere?”
Thanking them for the offer, I beg off. “I’m meeting Lucas this way.” I point in the opposite direction. “Have fun and happy anniversary.”
Gwen pulls me in for a cheek kiss before moving back beside Mitch and grinning up at him when he puts his arm around her. The lead singer from her favorite band, Disturbed, is in a new band, and they’re playing in town tonight. She’s going to flip out when she discovers that Mitch is taking her to see them.
I glance at my phone to check the time again, and yelp when it rings in my hand. “I’m leaving now,” I announce when I answer.
“Stay put. I’m a block away, heading in your direction,” Lucas says. He wanted to pick me up at work, but I told him not to bother since it was out of his way. But as usual, he didn’t listen. He never does when it comes to this chivalry stuff. He takes it very seriously.
Tonight we’re meeting at the hospital where Samantha works. She told Lucas she could get an empty exam room, and we could meet them there. Lucas thinks she chose the hospital in case anything goes wrong. We like it because it’s a public place and therefore less threatening.
I turn the corner and spot Lucas walking toward me from the other direction. His long legs, wrapped in dark jeans, eat up the sidewalk. He has on his leather coat and there’s a red scarf around his neck. His unruly locks are pushed back off his forehead with visible trails left behind from his fingers. That tells me he’s worried. His expression may give nothing away, but he can’t stop his fingers from continually slicing through his hair.
There are still about twenty yards between us when I break into a run, closing the distance, grinning hugely at him as I leap into his arms.
He laughs as he catches me and spins me around. “God, you’re gorgeous when you’re all amped up like this.”
“Amped up?” I ask as he puts me down.
“It’s like the power inside you knows what you’re about to do, and it’s busting at the seams to get out. I can feel the electricity coming off you. And you smell like coffee. You know how much I love coffee.”
I’m still smiling because I can feel it, too. I feel alive and hyperalert, like I decided to chug some of those double espressos I’ve been making all night.
We turn together, heading back in the direction Lucas came from, going toward the hospital. He takes my hand and uses his free one to put his phone to his ear. “We’re going in now. Give us an hour. Then call me.”
When he disconnects, he notices my curious look. “I told Liam about tonight. Someone needs to know where we’re going and what’s happening. If I don’t pick up when he calls, he’ll know we ran into a problem.”
My eyebrows draw together. “Then what?”
He shrugs. “Then nothing, but at least we won’t fall off the radar with no one the wiser.”
My stomach does a flip.
His arm comes around me. “I’m just being cautious.”
I lean into him, and I know he’s right. My eagerness may be clouding my judgment, but I feel better knowing it’s not clouding his. And despite his calm exterior, the arm he has around my shoulder tightens as we near the hospital. It’s lit up brightly in the darkness with ambulances parked by the Emergency door. The main entrance is bustling, too, with the constant whooshing sound of the doors sliding open and closed automatically as people continually trail in and out of the building.
A few feet short of the entrance, Lucas abruptly stops walking. “Hold up a minute.”
I glance at him and his expression is serious.
“If you’re healing this guy and you sense that you should stop, then do it. Don’t make me stop you. I need to be able to trust you on this. I need to know you won’t let yourself get hurt, even if it means not being able to help him.”
Even though I knew this was coming, I’m surprised it took him so long to say it. “I won’t,” I tell him truthfully, making sure to maintain eye contact with him so he’ll believe me. “I have too much to lose now. There’s no way I would do that to you or to myself.”
Lucas studies me for a moment. Then he nods. But before I can turn back toward the building, his hands land on my shoulders and he seals his lips to mine. His mouth opens as he kisses me hungrily right in front of the busy hospital entrance.
I begin to understand what this is costing him. If he thought he could get away with forbidding me to do this, he would. Instead, he’s swallowing his fear, and he’s supporting me because he knows this is who I am. I didn’t think I could love him any more than I already did, but my heart swells, and I kiss him back with all the emotion I’m feeling. When we finally break away, breathless and flushed, a small crowd has gathered around us. They quickly disperse when we notice them, and my cheeks grow even hotter at the attention. But Lucas just looks satisfied. “Come on,” he says, turning me back toward the door.
We’re barely inside the bright main entrance when she steps in front of us. Samantha’s smile is frozen on her face as her big brown eyes travel between us. Something in her expression tells me she saw what we were just doing out there.
“You must be Lucas, and you’re Raielle, is it?” she asks, pronouncing it hesitantly but correctly. I haven’t spoken to her since that day on the street, but Lucas has. I’m sure he grilled her, but she’s showing no side effects of it now. Unlike the day we met, today she actually looks like a nurse. She’s wearing pink scrubs with white clogs, and her long black hair is secured in a barrette at the base of her head.
I nod at her as my eyes dart around, watching the people moving past us. Beside me, Lucas is doing the same thing. Samantha appears completely sincere, but we’ll always have suspicions, and I know how rude and standoffish that must make us seem.
When my eyes land on the crowded lobby area, I think about the volunteer sitting there weeping over the sick children, and I wonder if she knew about my father’s organization but decided to remain on her own. Based on Samantha’s story, it seems like she was suppressing her power while she was here, until she finally couldn’t hold it in any longer. Why would she volunteer in a hospital if it was going to affect her so deeply?
There was a time when I couldn’t set foot in a hospital without being leveled by the need to heal, to the point of feeling sick myself. But the control I have over my energy now still surprises me. I can feel it, the way my body senses the subtle vibration of illness filling this building, but I’m not overtaken by it. It’s like background noise that I can choose to focus on or not.
“You good?” Lucas asks, his hand on my back, his eyes searching mine.
I blink back to my surroundings and smile to reassure him. Then I look over at Samantha. “I’m ready.”
We follow her through a maze of brightly lit hallways. The deeper she takes us into the hospital, the quieter it becomes, with patients and hospital workers thinning out along with the noise. Then she comes to a set of double doors and hits a button on the wall that causes them to slowly slide apart.
“This section
has been cleared out for a renovation that’s starting next month. No one will bother us here,” she says as she moves toward the only open door along the narrow hallway. “This way,” she says and gestures.
Lucas’s hand runs over my back, helping to calm my nerves as I move forward. Samantha walks in first and Lucas grips my shirt, pulling me slightly behind him as he peers inside the room. Over his shoulder, I see a frail-looking man sitting in a wheelchair, and another man who looks like a younger, beefier version of the first one, standing beside the chair. Lucas steps to the side, seeming to decide there’s no immediate danger. When I walk in, all eyes lock on me.
Samantha clears her throat. “This is my brother, Dom, and my father, Thomas.”
Both men look me over, and it’s hard to miss the skepticism in their expressions. I get the feeling they were coerced by Samantha into being here.
“Thank you for coming,” her father finally says, offering me a small smile that doesn’t seem genuine. He has thinning white hair, and you can tell that he used to be handsome. The brother is a whole different story. He’s scowling so hard, I wonder if that’s his expression or if his face actually looks all pinched like that.
“Good to meet you, sir,” Lucas says, taking the initiative and offering the older man his hand to shake. We all watch as Thomas slowly lifts a trembling arm a few inches before stopping, unable to go any farther. Lucas leans down, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.
I don’t reach out to shake hands; I don’t want to touch anyone yet. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” I say politely.
His mouth hitches up again stiffly. Then he clears his throat, and with introductions out of the way, the atmosphere starts to turn awkward. “I should probably say that I don’t really believe what Samantha’s telling me about you. I’m sorry.”
Samantha comes and puts her hand on her father’s shoulder. “You don’t have to believe it. You only have to let her do it.” She smiles apologetically at me.
“You travel light,” Dominic says, speaking for the first time. “No scarves or crystal balls?”
I try to suppress a smile, but it’s hard. I’ve never been in a situation like this before. Usually, I’m hiding what I can do, not trying to prove it. I’ve never experienced this kind of skepticism, and it’s doing the opposite of what Dominic expects. Rather than intimidating me, it’s making me feel more at ease as my residual suspicions disappear.
