by Devney Perry
“Good choice.” She tosses the eyelashes in the bin. I sit perfectly still and let her apply the eyeliner to my lids. “Done.” She turns my chair back toward the mirror.
I gasp.
It’s me.
Not the cancer me, but the old me.
“Lee.” My voice cracks as tears form in my eyes.
“Don’t cry.” She squeezes my shoulders. “Your eyelashes will run.”
I laugh as tears of joy spill down my cheeks. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, Callie. It’s what I do, and you deserve it. We all deserve to feel good.”
I lean forward to look closer. “I mean, I look like me.”
“That’s the point, silly.”
I nod and gawk. Wow. The reflection I’ve seen my entire life feels foreign staring back at me now. The blond hair, pseudo eyelashes, and painted-on eyebrows make me look human again. “I don’t even know how to thank you,” I whisper and turn my head, getting a look from another angle.
“Ninety-nine percent of the people you see every day won’t notice the illusion. They’ll just look at you and see a pretty woman. They won’t know the real struggle you’re going through unless you share it with them.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t want to share with most people. Sharing leads to questions. Many of them I don’t want to answer. Talking about cancer makes it more real. I mean, how can someone who has never gone through the struggle really understand? They can’t. No words can ever adequately explain a cancer patient’s life.
“Here.” She hands me a bag full of makeup. “There are some extra goodies in there. Even a killer concealer that’s waterproof to help conceal the dark circles and spots on your skin. You can make your skin look flawless.”
“Thank you.” I clutch it tightly to my chest. “Now what?”
“Now, we go to lunch.”
“Lunch?”
“Yes.” She grabs her keys from the counter. “You’re entirely too skinny and need food.”
It must be a family thing. The need to fatten me up is something they both have mentioned. I know I’ve lost weight, but I didn’t think it was that bad or noticeable. Though the two of them have acted as if I’m a walking time bomb of bones.
“Good. I could use a drink.”
“That’s why I told Bruno to give us four hours. I wanted to spend more time with you.”
I follow her toward the door and catch my reflection in every mirror. “Anything to put a little space between him and me is perfect.”
She stops, turning on her heels to face me. “He’s not as bad as you think.”
“Why don’t you enlighten me?” I raise my new eyebrow.
“Get a few drinks in me and anything is possible.” She laughs and heads toward the door.
“I can do that.” I laugh too.
Now, I have a plan.
Close to the Vest
Lee lied.
I’ve plied her with alcohol and food for two hours, and she hasn’t given up a single secret. She’s hinted. Oh, how she’s hinted. But in the end, she said they weren’t her secrets to tell.
By the time Bruno walks into the little café across the street, I’m half in the bag and Lee is beyond toasted. “I see you two are having a good time,” he teases as he looks down at us, totally not impressed.
“We were just talking about you. Secrets aren’t nice, Bruno.” I wink out of sync.
His eyes widen and he looks at Lee. “What?”
“Brother,” she blurts and waves her hand in front of her. “My lips are sealed. I didn’t say a wooord,” she slurs and blinks slowly.
“Jesus,” he mumbles and drags his hand across his stubble. “Remind me not to leave you two alone together again.”
“We’re adults.”
“Hey!” she yells and reaches out to grab him but misses. “We’re just having drinks and doing a little girl talk.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of, Lee.” He shakes his head, and I can tell that he isn’t so happy with either of us right now.
“You didn’t even mention how she looks.” Her hand drifts toward me and falls to the table. Someone is beyond the point of no return. I’ve been there and it’s not pretty.
“Cal is beautiful no matter what she has on,” he states, standing tall with his shoulders back.
My belly flips, but with my new makeup and hair, I actually feel his words. “Thanks,” I say with a silly grin.
“I think it’s time for us to leave.” Bruno throws down two hundred dollars on the table and holds his hand out.
I place my hand in his and let him pull me up from the chair. My head spins, the liquor hitting me since I’m finally on my feet. “She may need a little help,” I tell him, lifting my chin in Lee’s direction.
He nods before wrapping his hand around her waist. “Up ya go, princess.”
“I’m fiiine,” she slurs and climbs to her feet, swaying in his arms. She puts her finger over her mouth. “Shh. Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me,” she repeats her earlier statement and gives him a dopey smile.
His eyes slide to mine, and I can’t wipe the grin off my face. Even though I’m ticked off she didn’t spill her guts, I know there’s something neither of them is telling me. Eventually, I’ll find out. I won’t give up until I do.
As we head for the door and she continues to babble, he looks at me over his shoulder. “She’s obviously talking nonsense because she’s so drunk.”
“Yep.” I bite my lip to quell my laughter.
Did they, especially him, think I’m so easily fooled? I mean, they dropped hints everywhere. He can deny it all he wants, but there’s something there and it isn’t going to be easy to find out.
Lee moans the entire car ride and claims she’s going to be sick because her brother drives like a “madman,” her words not mine. Bruno’s fidgety and uneasy and it radiates off him. I can tell he’s relieved when he tucks her into bed and we drive away.
“You wanna share?”
He doesn’t look at me, keeping his eyes on the road. “Nope.”
“It’s not fair, Bruno.” Crossing my arms, I glare at him.
His eyes slide to the side, but he still doesn’t look. “We have more important shit to talk about.”
“What’s more important than a secret?”
“Your life.”
“I think I’m very much alive right now.”
“At the moment.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I’m clenching my jaw so tightly that my teeth start to ache.
“You’re done with the pity party.”
My mouth falls open.
“It’s time for you to grow a pair of balls and fight.”
“Scientifically, it’s impossible, Bruno. I don’t know if you missed science class, but I’m just throwing it out there.” I’m proud of myself.
His jaw ticks. “What have you done the last two weeks?” He’s speeding up, driving a little crazier than I’m used to, and it puts me on edge.
“I’ve been doing stuff.”
“Have you even left the house?”
“Haven’t you been keeping tabs on me?”
He glances at me, his eyes narrowing as his hands clutch the wheel tighter. “Maybe I should’ve been.”
Turning away from him, I watch the city whiz by. “Spending the day with your sister really helped.” My fingers twist in my hair nervously.
“Good. Maybe you’re ready to kick cancer’s ass. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I whisper when my nose starts to tingle and my eyes fill with tears.
“We’ll talk more when we get to your place.”
“Why don’t we go to yours?”
“It’s not safe.”
Bruno isn’t safe either, but here he is, in my space and making himself a fixture in my life.
I’m ready for the talk. I need answers.
“I have a million que—” Bruno covers my mouth with his and push
es my body flush against the door. I open for him. It’s been too long since I’ve tasted him. He plants his palms against my back and rubs my skin with his thumbs that have found their way under my shirt.
Heaven.
That’s what it feels like to be in his arms. All thoughts vanish as his tongue tangles with mine, sweeping inside my mouth tentatively before growing more demanding.
I’ve been kissed, probably thousands of times in my life. But there’s nothing more devastating than Bruno’s mouth on mine. The way he holds me in his arms and digs his fingertips into my skin as he kisses me makes me weak in the knees and leaves me gasping for air.
My hands find their way around his neck, resting at the edge of his hairline. When I graze his skin with my nails, he groans into my mouth. Shivers cascade down my spine, the familiar want crashing into me like a ton of bricks.
I want this man.
I’ve come to need him.
I can’t deny it anymore.
Time.
I want more of it. More of him. More of us.
The secrets no longer matter. It’s about how he touches me, the way he speaks to me, and how he cares without condition.
When his hands cup my ass and begin to knead my bottom, I take the opportunity to lift myself up and wrap my legs around his middle.
Unable to control myself, I moan when his hard cock pushes against my center. Knowing he wants me as much as I want him does things to me. This man, the one women throw themselves at, wants me.
When I start to grind against him, he carries me to the couch and lays me down softly before resting his body next to mine. Our lips haven’t left each other.
Growing hungrier, my hands find their way under his shirt and stroke the ridges of his stomach. The smooth skin glides easily against my fingers. His skin is hot and soft as it reacts to my touch.
“Bruno,” I moan into his mouth. He groans and kisses me deeper.
When his hand starts to slide up my leg, I want to say no. I haven’t felt a sexual urge since I started chemo. Since the first and last time I fucked him. But I want his touch. Not the sexual part, but feeling needed and wanted comforts me.
I don’t want to think anymore. It’s all I’ve done for weeks. Think and worry, instead of living. He unbuttons my jeans, sliding his fingers underneath my panties. My legs open of their own volition.
His fingers run through my wetness softly before circling my clit. Tenderly at first as my back arches and my body rises to meet his touch. As my breathing changes and my body begins to shake, his movements become more focused and I can no longer stave off the orgasm I didn’t even know I wanted.
As the waves of pleasure crash over me, Bruno’s moans match my own. My hands latch on to his skin like a lifeline and my breathing ceases. His lips break from mine and find my neck, nibbling on my flesh between each aftershock of ecstasy raking my body and stealing my energy.
When the last twinge of pleasure leaves my system, I inhale and try to catch my breath. I close my eyes, the sensation and feelings too much.
I hadn’t even thought about how much I needed that. Nothing has brought me pleasure, besides Bruno, since the day I heard I have cancer. But in this moment, with him, I remember that there is so much life still to live.
More than just shoes and clothes.
The connection to other people, especially him. The way Bruno instinctually knows what I need more than I do. Even sick, I want to savor every morsel and moment without abandon.
Bruno nuzzles his face into my neck, his breathing harsh and ragged. I’m probably going to sound like a weirdo, but there’s something about hearing him, even his breath, that brings me solace in my fucked-up life.
My hand touches his jeans, gripping his cock roughly through the material. His hand covers mine, stilling it just as I start to stroke his length. “No.”
I turn my face, looking into his eyes and frown. “Don’t you want me?” I ask, immediately feeling like a needy idiot.
“I do.” He pulls my hand away from his body. “But not now. Not yet. When you’re better, I’ll fuck you eight ways to Sunday again, but it’s not the time.” My face scrunches at his answer and he sits up, hovering over me. “Listen, Callie. I really like you, but you’re not ready for what I have to offer.”
I glare up at him, completely confused. “You had no problem giving me an orgasm.”
“You needed it.”
“You need one too by the looks of things.” My eyes drop to his pants and the very visible bulge.
He laughs and shakes his head, his fingers stroking the back of my hand as he holds it. “I’m wound so tight right now I’d probably break you in half.” His eyes are dark and the need is completely visible.
“I think you’re being a little overdramatic.”
He leans forward, leaving no room between our faces. “Said the girl who should win an Oscar for the pity party she’s been throwing herself.”
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “I had good reason.”
He pulls me up, positioning me in his lap so I face him. “I gave you time to freak out and face your death, but that time has passed.”
“But I think it’s normal. It’s not like I went off the deep end.”
He brushes the hair away from my eyes. “You did, babe. You did.”
“So then why was it a pity party?” I squirm in his lap and fidget with my fingers.
His head tilts and he relaxes back into the cushions, taking me with him. “It’s normal to grieve. It is. But to do it as long as you did isn’t healthy.”
I giggle and place my hands against his rock-hard chest. “Are you a shrink now?”
He rests his hands against mine and sighs. “No. When Lee got sick, I read everything I could. You name it; I had to learn everything about the disease and about how to deal with her. She was a lot like you. She fell apart at first. She grieved as you’re doing now, but she snapped out of it much sooner and decided to fight. She wasn’t willing to give up on life so easily.”
I don’t respond right away. I think about his words before answering. “I haven’t given up. God, I love life. I’m not ready to die.”
“Then why aren’t you fighting?”
“I don’t know.” I dig my fingernails into his chest. “I’m just so scared that I feel paralyzed,” I whisper, almost embarrassed to admit how I feel.
“I get it. I do. But it’s time for you to fight. You have to have the drive and desire to beat cancer. If you don’t, if you keep on the same path, it’s going to eat you alive and eventually take you.”
Leaning forward, I rest my head on his shoulder and bury my face in his neck as he begins to rub my back. “Some days, I barely have the energy to walk. How am I supposed to fight?” I move my head, almost trying to crawl inside him. The warmth of his body and the way he touches me makes me want more. I never want it to end.
“You’re going to let me fight with you.”
My hands move around to his back and I tuck them under his shirt. He has the cutest little indentations just above his ass and I rest my fingers against them. “You shouldn’t have to, Bruno.”
“You can’t do this on your own.”
“No?” I ask, rubbing his hot flesh.
“You’ve proven it. You’re barely eating, not leaving the house. You’re just existing and waiting for whatever happens next.”
“I know. I’m sorry?” I say it like it’s a question and not a statement.
“I’m not leaving your side, Cal. We’re going to fight this together. I won’t let you go it alone.”
“But why?” I ask and pray he’ll answer. Since we are being open and honest, it’s time to delve into why he’s here. Most men would’ve opened the door for Becca and then wiped their hands of whatever problem I was having, but he didn’t and I’m confused about it.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
“I remember you from the club.”
“Not that.”
Planting my palms flat a
gainst his back, I still and think about what the fuck he means by that statement. “I only know you from the club. What are you talking about?”
“You honestly don’t remember, do you?” he asks, grabbing me by the arms and forcing me to look at him. His eyebrows draw together as his eyes search mine. “God, I didn’t think you were that drunk.”
Drunk.
Club.
Bruno.
Drunk.
God, I had more than one drunk night at the club.
“Cal, we’ve been together before.” He holds my arms with one hand and touches my cheek with the other.
“Yeah. A couple of weeks ago after you broke in for Bec.”
“No.” He sighs. “Long before that.”
“What?” I ask and my mouth drops. My eyes start to roam his face as I try to recall what in the fuck he’s talking about.
“New Year’s Eve, four years ago.”
My eyes snap to his as the memories start coming back to me in spurts but mostly in shadowy figures that I can’t make out. “I—” I remember talking to him briefly, but the night is a complete blur after that. When I woke that morning, I couldn’t see the face of the man in bed with me. I didn’t take the time to look. I dressed and ran out of there without looking back. Never did I imagine that it was Bruno lying on the bed completely naked and passed out.
“We were both drunk. It was the first time I actually had the balls to talk to you. I’d always watched you. Wondered who you were. That night, I spoke to you. I touched you. I couldn’t help but kiss you.”
“You got drunk?” I’ve never seen him not in control.
“For once, I let my guard down and lived like a normal person.”
“And we fucked?” I can’t believe what he’s telling me now.
His hand touches my chin and closes my mouth. “Yes.” He nods slowly.
“I kind of remember the night. It’s so fuzzy in my mind.”
“Well, we didn’t stop drinking. We ended up at my place, fucked like rabbits, drank more Jack than I care to remember, and when I woke up in the morning, you had snuck out.”
