by Mari Carr
Mia winced as a lightning bolt of pain struck her right between the eyes, her vision going black for a split second. Padraig didn’t notice her distress, and she was grateful. She didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want this perfect day ruined by a fucking tumor. It was already taking too much away from her. She couldn’t let it take this away too.
Padraig turned her toward the room, kissing her as he backed her up. Then he took care of her T-shirt, tossing it away before stepping back to look.
“Mia.” He whispered her name with the same reverence some people evoked the name of their god. “You’re so beautiful.”
She tried to smile, but there was no more denying this wasn’t going to end well. The throbbing pain was growing unbearable and flashing, floating lights were messing with her eyesight.
“Paddy,” she said, her voice sounding faraway through the excruciating thudding in her ears.
Her tone must have been enough, because Padraig’s entire demeanor changed. Her sexy lover vanished as the kind caretaker returned. He gently helped her lie down on the bed, covering her up with the sheet.
“Do you have something to take for the pain?”
“Bathroom,” she replied weakly. A small cry escaped as the shooting pains escalated.
She’d pushed herself too far. What had she been thinking? Getting on an airplane? Spending a day walking around in bright sunshine? Riding those roller coasters?
“Light.” She gestured toward the curtains. Fortunately, Padraig understood her request as he quickly pulled the room-darkening curtains shut, casting the room in blessed blackness.
She lay there, fighting the urge to scream when Padraig returned to her side again, this time with pills and a glass of water.
Mia lifted her head to take them, but the movement was too much, the pain so intense, a wave of nausea wafted through her.
“Fuck,” she muttered, as she dashed from the bed to the bathroom, arriving not a second too soon as her stomach emptied. She placed her forehead against the cool porcelain of the toilet.
“It’s okay.” Padraig lifted her hair and placed a cold washcloth on the back on her neck.
“Please, go away. I don’t want you to see—” Her request was cut short as she threw up again.
Padraig didn’t leave. Instead, he sank down on the edge of the bathtub, continuing to hold her hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Mia, so don’t ask.”
Her whole body hurt. She trembled and cried as she continued to wretch. Her stomach was empty, but not giving up, clamping, convulsing as the pain in her head turned white-hot.
Padraig handed her a tissue and she realized her nose was bleeding.
“God,” she gasped, hating every second of what was happening. “Please, Padraig. Leave.”
He moved from his spot on the tub, kneeling next to her. He flushed the toilet, then took the tissue from her, applying pressure.
“It’s going to be okay, Mia. We’ll ride it out. Together.”
“I’m disgusting,” she said after a few minutes. The dry heaves had stopped and her nose no longer bled, but her head still pounded.
“You’re beautiful.”
She knew he was trying to be kind, but the words merely bounced off. “This was a mistake.”
“Nope. It wasn’t. Do you want another pill?”
The last one had ended up in the toilet along with her lunch. Even so, her stomach didn’t feel steady enough for anything at the moment. “Vicious circle. Sick because of headache, but I can’t take the pill to cure the headache because I’m sick.”
“We’ll wait half an hour and try again. Come on.”
He stood, then helped her rise from the floor. Her legs were weak, so she reached for the sink for support.
Padraig took charge, lifting her and carrying her to the bedroom. It was the first time she could ever remember anyone carrying her in her entire life. Surely her grandma had carried her when she was a baby, but those memories were gone.
He placed her on the bed. “You want your pajamas on?”
It occurred to her belatedly that she was in nothing but her bra and shorts. She’d kicked off her flip-flops just before the pain hit.
“I…maybe you could just help me pull off my shorts. They feel sort of gross after a day at the amusement park.”
Padraig was all business as he unhooked her shorts and tugged them off. If her head didn’t still hurt so badly, she might have been mortified to have his first view of her nearly naked body be this one.
He drew the covers over her and she expected him to leave.
“I just need to sleep for a little while.”
“I know.” He walked to the other side of the bed and, to her surprise, he shed his own shoes and shorts before climbing under the covers next to her. “A nap will do us both some good.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Stop telling me to leave, Mia.”
She fell silent, fighting not to cry again. Poor Padraig had seen too many of her tears as it was. “I’m sorry,” she said at last, unable to shake the regret that she’d destroyed their perfect day.
“I think I’m going to have to make you a list of do’s and don’ts. Number one is going to be don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault.”
A sob escaped. Her head and her body and her stomach…God, every part of her hurt.
But none of her ached more than her heart.
Padraig lay in the dark room, listening to Mia’s quiet breathing as she slept. Every now and then she’d whimper, letting him know her head was still hurting.
His chest had been tight with anger ever since he’d seen her draped over the toilet, her body racked with pain. Simply knowing someone was sick, and seeing it up close and personal were two completely different things. Mia had seemed so healthy that he’d allowed himself to believe the ticking time bomb in her head wasn’t poised to explode.
He wouldn’t—couldn’t—show her how much her illness was tearing him up. So instead, he’d lay here for the last two hours in the blackness, wide awake and cursing God.
No one deserved this. No one.
Mia was a good person, a sweet woman who’d suffered enough shit in her lifetime. There was no way to explain this, to offer him some answer that would make what she was going through okay.
He wanted to hit something, tear it apart with his bare hands.
For Mia, he’d play a role, be positive and optimistic, but that didn’t mean he was fucking alright with this. Because he wasn’t.
His phone pinged. Moving slowly, he sat up then reached down to grab his cell from the back pocket of his shorts.
The text was a question from Colm.
Good day?
His brother teased him about his pilgrimage to Harry Potter World, but Padraig suspected Colm was really jealous.
He typed out his reply.
Yeah.
His one word answer pulled the trigger and Colm’s response was quick.
What’s wrong?
Suddenly the timing of Colm’s text didn’t seem so coincidental. They joked from time to time about the twin link, but he suspected they tried to laugh it off because both of them were really freaked out about it.
There had been too many times in the past when they’d both had a sense that the other was in trouble.
She got sick. Bad headache. Shouldn’t have done so much at theme park.
Padraig’s response didn’t come close to saying what he really felt.
How are you doing?
And apparently Colm knew it. He recalled Colm asking Mia for that dance, that he’d issued her some sort of warning in hopes of protecting him. Padraig hadn’t called his brother out. There hadn’t been time before they’d left for the airport.
Now…
He understood what his brother had been trying to do. How he’d hoped to save Padraig from this barrage of ugly emotions. The helplessness, the frustration and—God help him—the outright fury.
Padraig studied his brother’s
text for a full minute, uncertain how to reply.
His hesitance didn’t go unnoticed.
Don’t kill anybody, Colm warned. Don’t fancy spending months in Florida, defending you in court.
Padraig couldn’t muster a grin, unable to shake his frustration, so he texted what he felt.
It’s not fair.
Now it was Colm’s turn to take his time responding. When he did, Padraig was relieved his brother hadn’t hit him with that fucking “life’s not fair” adage. If he had, Padraig would have had to interrupt the vacation to fly home and beat the shit out of his twin.
Instead, his intelligent brother found the right words.
No. It’s not fair. It’s wrong on every level. But she needs you to make it okay. So make it okay, P. Make it tolerable. Hell, make it better than tolerable. Make every minute, every second count. It’s the only way you can take something so unfair and say UP YOURS to the universe.
Up yours.
Yeah. He could do that.
The heaviness lifted.
Thanks, bro.
Colm sent him a thumbs-up emoticon, followed by, Just remember this, accompanied by the middle finger emoticon.
Padraig chuckled. He’d been itching for a fight, and Colm gave him the perfect punching bag.
Placing his phone on the nightstand, he rose and walked to the bathroom. Grabbing Mia’s pain medicine and some water, Padraig returned to the bed.
She stirred when he sat down next to her, her eyes opening slowly.
“Head still hurt?” he asked quietly.
She nodded.
“Here.” He lifted her head gently, helping her take the pills.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
He bent down to place a kiss on her forehead. “Because you’re easy to be nice to.”
“That’s not an answer. I was basically a stranger a few weeks ago.”
Things had gotten too heavy since their return to the hotel room. Padraig didn’t know how to answer so he reverted to humor, desperate to see her smile like she had when they rode on the Hogwarts Express.
He gave her a playful wink. “At first, it had a lot to do with karma. Mine’s probably on shaky ground. Drink too much, gossip as much as my Pop Pop, cuss and gamble more than I should.”
Mia picked up on the joke instantly, her sleepy grin emerging. “Oh, I see. So, helping the dying girl buys you good karma.”
“Tons of it. Figure I can place wagers on every Super Bowl from here on out and embellish every sentence with as many ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’ as I want and I’ll be in good standing.”
“Glad to be able to help you out.” Then something occurred to her as she added, “You said ‘at first’. What’s your reason for helping me now?”
Padraig gave her a quick, hard kiss on her smiling lips. “I want to get in your pants.”
She barked out a loud laugh that obviously cost her, since she winced. “Don’t make me laugh. My head hurts too bad.”
“Sorry, Tilly Mint. I’ll save my teasing for another time then.”
She grasped his hand and lifted it to her lips, placing a sweet kiss on his knuckles. “Whatever your reason, I’m glad you’re here.”
“There’s no place on earth I’d rather be, Mia. Not a single one.”
Her eyes began to drift closed. “Paddy,” she said, even as she rolled away from him, sleep claiming her fast.
“Hmm?”
“I think I’m going to fall in love with you.”
She was asleep the second she finished speaking so she didn’t see his face.
She missed the impact her words had on him.
Padraig’s smile grew so big the stretch almost hurt his cheeks.
And his heart.
Jesus, what she’d done to his heart.
“I’m going to fall in love with you too,” he whispered to the still room. Then he glanced across the room, flashing his middle finger toward the window and the universe beyond.
“Up yours.”
8
April 22
Mia released a long, contented sigh.
“That’s a happy sound,” Padraig said from the lounger next to hers.
Mia didn’t bother to open her closed eyes, the dark sunglasses muting the bright Florida sunshine. “What you’re really saying is the sigh sounds better than my groaning and whining all day yesterday.”
They’d been forced to cancel their trip to Epcot when Mia awoke the day after Universal with her headache still intact. The pain hadn’t subsided until late afternoon. She’d tried to convince Padraig to go out and do something, hating that her health was ruining his vacation, but he’d remained by her side in the dark room, bringing her pills, forcing her to eat little bits of food, and telling her silly stories about his family by way of distraction. She’d suffered from intense headaches before, but yesterday’s pain had seemed somewhat more bearable, thanks to Padraig.
Mercifully, they’d planned a relaxing day at Discovery Cove, and when she’d awoken this morning the pain in her head was gone, replaced by the mild soreness that told her the worst was over. For now.
Discovery Cove was an amazing place with a lazy river, aviary, pools with couches and, best of all, serve-yourself margarita machines.
They’d already taken a few leisurely floats along the river, tried their hand at snorkeling and now they were soaking up the rays. She and Padraig were going to stick out like sore thumbs when they returned to chilly Maryland. She looked forward to showing off her suntanned skin next to everyone’s pasty winter white.
“Last day in Florida,” Padraig said. “Everything you hoped it would be?”
She nodded. “Yeah. It’s wonderful. I sort of thought Harry Potter World was going to be the highlight, but I think today might be winning.”
“This place is pretty cool. Might want to try the snorkeling thing again before we leave. Liked looking at all those fish.”
“I’m in. Later. After I finish this margarita.”
“Drink away. Sort of hoping I get a taste of it myself later.”
She glanced over and lifted her cup. “I didn’t realize you wanted any. Help yourself.”
He shook his head, his gaze drifting to her lips. “Not that way.”
Mia felt her cheeks heat, less from the sun and more from something she didn’t want to feel. “I don’t think—”
“Later,” he said. “For right now, I’m perfectly happy to just lay here and talk. Get to know you better.”
“Get to know me?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
She snorted. “I’m an open book. And a boring one. I’d rather learn more about you.”
“Like what?”
“Who was your first kiss?” she asked. The more she learned about Padraig, the more she wanted to know.
He chuckled. “Kelli.”
“Seriously?” She’d gotten to know Padraig’s female best friend a bit better over the past couple of weeks, and she genuinely liked the woman. Part of her wondered why Kelli and Padraig had chosen to remain friends rather than date. “And it didn’t work out?”
Padraig shook his head. “No. I’m afraid she was a bit of a tramp. Kissed me for a quarter, then got fifty cents to give Tommy Martinson a kiss under the sliding board.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “Elementary school?”
Padraig was pleased with his joke. “Fifth grade.”
“Why don’t we skip the schoolyard stories and bounce forward to the real ones?”
He chuckled. “Okay, but you’re missing some great stuff from sixth grade.”
“Still Kelli?”
“Nah. She told me I was a crappy kisser and moved on to other guys.”
It was obvious Kelli hadn’t kissed Padraig lately, because there was nothing crappy about his kissing. “So who was your first love?”
Padraig tilted his head. “If I tell you, are you going to tell me about yours?”
She nodded. “If you want. Though I’ll warn you now. There’
s not much to tell.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. My first love was Stephanie Bell. She was a little blonde cheerleader on the junior varsity squad, and she definitely knew how to fill out that uniform.”
Mia snorted. “Great standards.”
“Horny teenage boy standards. Believe me, they don’t run much deeper than that in high school.”
“And this was your first great love?”
Padraig shrugged. “I thought she was. We made out about a dozen times. And I fell head over heels when she let me touch what was under that cheer sweater.”
“Let me guess. She broke your heart.”
He nodded. “Got a better offer. Quarterback on the football team asked her out.”
She sat up on the lounger and gave him a quick up and down. “You’re a big guy. Surprised you didn’t play football.”
“I did, but I was on special teams. Nowhere near the same social status as the quarterback.”
“And you were devastated?”
“Completely. Until Jillian Barker caught my eye.”
“She had big boobs too?”
He shook his head, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Nope. But she had this sweet little ass that looked pretty amazing in her volleyball shorts.”
Mia lifted her sunglasses as the sun peeked behind a fluffy white cloud. “Any relationships based on silly stuff like emotions or, I don’t know, personality over appearance?”
Padraig sat up and faced her. He’d tossed his sunglasses on top of a towel on the sand next to the chair earlier, and she was glad. She liked having an unobstructed view of his expressive brown eyes. Right now, he was clearly having a good time at her expense, teasing her rather than giving her straight answers.
“Oh, you mean true love, not superficial.”
She squeezed her water bottle, shooting him squarely in the middle of his muscular bare chest.
“Hey, that’s cold!” he said, wiping away the wetness with the T-shirt he’d been using as a pillow.
Padraig had caught her looking at his too-sexy-for-her-sanity body too many times today. Of course, she figured they were even, because he hadn’t even tried to sneak a peek at Mia in her one-piece, opting instead for the straight eyebrow-waggling ogle accompanied by a wolf whistle.
