Hating You, Loving You

by Crystal Kaswell

  I can't pretend I'm okay.

  Not right now.

  "You have to promise you won't freak out," I say.

  "Can't make that promise, sunshine. Not until I know."

  "Then promise you'll try."

  He cups my cheek with his palm as he stares up at me. "Promise."

  My shoulders relax. I trust him. It's terrifying, but I trust him. "I have a test tomorrow."

  His brow scrunches. "What kind of test?"

  I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "A medical test. It might be bad news."

  "Bad how?"

  "Just bad."

  Confusion streaks his expression.

  He's going to make me say it.

  Or maybe he doesn't see it.

  For the last two years, my life has been breast cancer. But that isn't how it is for him. For anyone else. It's not on their radar.

  I nod to my chest. "You didn't notice?"

  "Notice what?" He follows my gaze.

  I shift out of my jacket. Toss it on the ground behind me. Tug my tank top lower. Lower. Until my bra is peeking out.

  But he's not getting it.

  I go to pull it off but Dean stops me.

  "I don't have the self-control to stop if you start."

  "I don't want you to stop."

  "I want to hear this."

  I swallow hard. I want him to hear it.

  But…

  God.

  "Look." I take his hand. Bring it to my chest.

  He cups my breast with his palm.

  "They're fake."

  His brow furrows.

  "It's obvious if I take my bra off."

  He stares at me like I'm crazy. "You're not the type."

  I know.

  Epiphany fills his expression.

  He understands.

  I say it anyways. "I had a double mastectomy."

  "You had breast cancer?"

  I nod.

  "When?"

  "Two years ago. That was when it started. It's been a year since I finished treatment. I guess… I guess this is my anniversary."

  "That story about your mom?"

  "That was true. Just… also true about me."

  "Are you okay?"

  "Probably. But there's a chance." I swallow hard. "It happens. Even with the preventative treatment."

  "Fuck." Something fills his eyes but it's not fear, or pity, or need.

  It's sympathy.

  "Do me a favor, sunshine. Fill the glass and hand me the bottle."

  It takes a bit of maneuvering to do it without climbing out of his lap, but I manage.

  He wraps his hands around the bottle.

  I hold up the glass. "What are we toasting to?"

  "Don't know. Just know we need another round after that."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Dean

  My throat burns. It's wrong drinking good whiskey this fast.

  It's a bad idea, drinking at all.

  This conversation is too serious for it.

  The trust in Chloe's eyes is too intense for it.

  My cock's whine is too loud for it.

  Fuck, she's a lot braver than I am. Facing that. Telling me. Letting her guard down.

  I don't deserve it, but, fuck, I want it so badly.

  I want to become the kind of guy who deserves her.

  Chloe licks the last drop of whiskey from her glass. Its soft, slick surface glides over my shoulder as she wraps her arms around my neck.

  Her crotch rubs against mine as she moves closer.

  Her dark eyes fill with nerves. "You aren't saying anything."

  "Girl's never told me she had cancer before."

  Her laugh breaks up the tension in her brow. "You get around. That's surprising."

  "Is it usually considered an aphrodisiac?"

  Her long bangs fall in front of her dark eyes as she shakes her head. "Alex left after I told him."

  "Asshole."

  "Yeah." Her fingers dig into my hair. "He wasn't committed. He would have left sooner or later."

  Maybe. But that's not the story she's selling. Hurt seeps into her voice, her jaw, her eyes.

  She isn't over her ex leaving.

  Not that I blame her—fuck that asshole.

  I want to punch his stupid face. To make him hurt as much as she did.

  But that isn't gonna do shit to fix this.

  She's still going to have the weight of that abandonment on her shoulders.

  And I…

  My eyes close as her fingertips brush my neck. Inch by inch, she presses her body against mine. First, her pelvis, then her stomach, her chest.

  Her cheek brushes mine.

  Her hands dig into my hair.

  I've wanted a lot of women in my lap, but this is different. I want more than her body.

  I want her heart.

  I want her soul.

  I want her everything.

  And here she is, offering it.

  It should be perfect. Easy.

  Everything inside me is begging me to reach out and take her.

  Everything but the one shred of decency buried deep.

  I can't grab her unless I'm sure I won't let go.

  I can't fail her like everyone else has.

  Somehow, I knew that seven years ago.

  But now? Now that she's laying herself bare for me…

  "Dean." She drags her fingertips over my jawline. "Please say something."

  "I'm sorry."

  Her eyes turn down. "Oh."

  "No." I drop the bottle on the couch. Reach up and rest my palm on her cheek.

  Her eyelids press together. She turns her head to one side, leaning into my touch. Soaking up the affection in it.

  "I'm sorry you went through that, sunshine."

  She just barely nods.

  "I want to fuck you. I'm going out of my mind over how badly I want to fuck you."

  "It's not a boner killer?"

  I can't help but laugh. "Is that the normal reaction?"

  "I've only ever told Alex." Her tongue slides over her lips. "Does it change the way you think of me?"

  "Yeah."

  "Oh." Her chest slumps with her exhale.

  "Not like that, sunshine. I want you just as badly. More."

  "More?" Her eyelids blink open. Her dark eyes fix on mine. "Why?"

  "'Cause you're letting me in."

  "Is that what you want?"

  "Yeah."

  "You don't sound happy about it."

  'Cause I'm terrified. "This is uncharted territory for me."

  "Me too." She runs her fingertips over my jawline. "I need you to kiss me now."

  Fuck, I need to kiss her now.

  My free hand goes to the space between her shoulder blades. I pull her closer. Until every inch of her is pressed against every inch of me.

  I kiss her softly.

  Then harder.

  Her need pours into me.

  My need pours into her.

  It's overwhelming.

  How the hell do you let yourself need someone?

  Trust them to be there?

  Trust yourself to be there for them?

  For the last decade, I've kept women at a distance. I've convinced the entire world I don't give a shit about anything.

  Hell, I convince myself most of the time.

  But Chloe…

  My fingers dig into her soft skin.

  My tongue dances with hers.

  Her groan vibrates down my throat.

  I need more of that groan.

  I need her coming on my face.

  She pulls back with a heavy sigh. "You're good at that."

  My cheeks flush. It's weird feeling shy. I've fucked more women than I can remember. But this? Kissing someone I care about—

  Not sure I've ever done that.

  Not with anyone else.

  "Oh." Her lips curl into a half smile. "That isn't how I thought I'd get you blushing."

  "Me either."

&n
bsp; "You're scared?"

  "Not exactly."

  "Then what?" Her voice is soft. Sweet. Understanding.

  After all the shit I give her, she still sees the good in me. She still wants to dig past the guy I convince everyone else I am.

  I have no idea what the hell I've done to deserve her.

  My thumb rubs her temple. It's impulse. It must be right, because it's making her lips part with a soft sigh. "I could never be casual with you."

  "But before—"

  "Was before. I was a stupid kid. Now… I'm still an idiot half the time, but I've got a bit of sense."

  "What does that mean?"

  I want to be the guy she can lean on. Fuck, I want it so badly I can taste it.

  But can I trust myself?

  That, I don't know.

  My hands go to her shoulders. I don't push her away or pull her closer. I keep her exactly where she is. "I want to fuck you, Chloe. I want to bury myself in you. But not tonight. Not because you're drunk and scared."

  "It's not because of that."

  "But you are."

  "A little."

  "I want to erase every ugly thought in your head. I do. But not like this. If you still want this tomorrow, come over after your test. I'll fuck your brains out."

  My stomach flip-flops.

  My hands shake.

  My toes go numb.

  I've done a lot of crazy shit in my life, but this is the first time I've been this fucking terrified.

  "You… you want to be with me?" she asks.

  "It's never been a question of whether or not I wanted to be with you."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah."

  She leans in. Presses her lips to mine. It starts soft. Then it's harder.

  The warm affection fades into a hungry heat.

  Her tongue slips into my mouth.

  Her fingers dig into my skin.

  My body roars awake. My heart thuds. My lungs strain. My cock stirs.

  "Oh." She pulls back with a heavy sigh. Her cheeks flush. Her tongue slides over her lips. "It's been a long time since I've made anyone hard."

  I shake my head. "You have no idea how many times I've fucked myself thinking of you."

  "How many times?"

  "Too many to count."

  Her fingers dig into my neck. "You're a tease. Do you realize that?"

  "Yeah."

  "It's cruel."

  "That's me."

  "Dean I… I understand what you're saying. Why you want to wait. But I can't. Everything might be wrong tomorrow."

  "Even so."

  "No." Her hair falls in front of her eyes as she shakes her head. When she blinks, a tear catches on her lashes. "What if I'm sick again?"

  I have no fucking idea how to answer that, so I pull her closer.

  Hold her tighter.

  "When it first happened, I was in shock. Then I got angry. At the universe. At my parents. At everyone who didn't have to deal with cancer at twenty-two. But, mostly, I was angry with my body. It betrayed me. I know It sounds ridiculous."

  "It doesn't."

  "Really?"

  I nod. I can't imagine how I'd feel if I were in her shoes. There's no way I'd handle it with half the grace.

  "My body and I… we aren't friends. Friendly, sometimes. But not friends. I can feel it in everything I do. I'm not as good at aikido, I'm a slower swimmer, I don't notice when I'm hungry. I drink too much tea and get too little sleep. And I… well, up until a few weeks ago I'd given up on trusting my body enough to want someone."

  "You didn't want anyone?"

  "No. I did. But only in an intellectual way. And that meant I stayed in my head. I kept thinking of the way Alex looked at me like I was broken and unlovable. Of how strange my—" She looks down at her chest. "It's weird. Having fake boobs."

  "Nobody's ever—"

  "Never."

  Fuck, that's an invitation if I've ever heard one.

  But I meant what I told her earlier. I don't have the self-control to stop if I start.

  Fuck. I barely have the self-control to keep my hands to myself at the moment.

  I can't let her know that.

  I'm sober and I'm not facing a life changing test tomorrow.

  I've been the responsible one before—fuck knows I've dragged Leighton's and Walker's drunk asses home a million times—but it's never felt like this much of a responsibility.

  "It means the world to me that you're telling me this, sunshine." I run my fingers through her hair. "But I still can't fuck you."

  "You can." She sinks into my lap. "You're still hard."

  "Well aware of that."

  Her smile is sad, but it still lights up her eyes. "Is there a line?"

  "A line?"

  "You've kissed me twice now. So that's in."

  "Are we negotiating?"

  "If that isn't too pathetic."

  "You're scared. It's brave, admitting that. Facing it."

  Her laugh is happier, but just barely. "I'm not facing it. That's why I'm begging you."

  "When's your test?"

  "Eleven."

  "Someone coming with you?"

  "No. It's routine. Not a big deal." Her words are rote, like she's reading off a piece of paper. "I should be fine. Odds are good. Better than good. Ninety-five percent chance. More even."

  "You're allowed to be scared about unlikely things."

  "Maybe. It feels like… I didn't ask Dad or Gia to come because I knew how that would go. I knew they'd keep reciting the party line. It's going to be fine. You'll be fine. Odds of developing breast cancer after a double mastectomy are almost nothing. And then… I don't know."

  "You want to tell them to fuck off."

  "Kinda, yeah." She laughs. "But I know they're trying to help."

  "They want to help."

  She nods.

  "Maybe you need to let them know how."

  "Maybe." She stares back into my eyes. "You're smarter than you let on."

  "Wiser maybe. But not smarter."

  "Both."

  "I…" I bite my tongue. Hesitation isn't me. But this… fuck, this might be the most I've ever asked of anyone. Or the most I've ever offered of myself. "I want to come with you tomorrow."

  Surprise streaks her expression. "You do?"

  "Yeah."

  "You'll mostly sit in the waiting room."

  "I don't care."

  "I…"

  "You can tell me to fuck off if you want."

  "No… I… you have to promise you won't mention the odds."

  My lips curl into a smile.

  "What?"

  "I knew you had a thing for scoundrels."

  Her brow knits with confusion.

  "That's Han Solo's famous line."

  "Oh. Yeah. But his is about how he doesn't want to hear bad odds."

  "Still."

  "I guess I do have a thing for scoundrels." She runs her fingers through my hair. "Since I'm here begging you to fuck me."

  "Sweet talk isn't going to get you anywhere."

  Her laugh is hearty. Full. "How about taking off my clothes?"

  "That will probably work." I bring my hands to her waist. Pull her a little closer. "If I'm being honest."

  "I knew that." She looks down at me. "If I'm being honest."

  This time, I laugh. "You think you know me so well."

  "Sometimes. Other times… I'm not as sure. But I want to."

  "I want you to."

  "Where does that leave us?"

  "You didn't respond to my offer."

  "Oh." She presses her lips together. "The hospital is by my place. In the valley."

  "I figured."

  "Can, um… can we have sex after?"

  "You'll have to drag me away."

  She smiles like a kid on Christmas morning. "Yeah?"

  "Fuck yeah." Fuck me. The thought of unwrapping Chloe isn't doing shit to get blood back to my brain.

  "I… I don't know how to say this, Dean, but it kille
d me when Alex left. Not because I loved him. I did. But what hurt more was how wrong I was about him. I thought he loved me too. I thought he was the kind of guy who really wanted to be with me through sickness and through health. I can't go through that again."

  I nod.

  "So, yes, I want you to come tomorrow. But only if you're sure you're going to stick around if the prognosis is bad. Only if you're sure you can handle it."

  "I get that."

  "So… I mean, you don't have to answer now. You can think about it. Sleep on it. But if you want to come, I need to know. And I get it if you aren't in. If you're not ready to take that on. It's… it's not what I'd expect from you."

  Me either.

  "Watching my mom die was the worst thing I ever felt. Worse than worrying I might die. Worse than the looks Gia and Dad gave me every three seconds. Worse than forgetting how to want someone."

  It's a fair question.

  I'm not sure it's one I can answer. Not honestly. Not without really knowing what it means to love someone who might be dying.

  Even if the odds are good.

  Even if the odds are negligible.

  Can I honestly promise her that?

  I have to be sure.

  "Come here." I wrap my arms around her and I kiss her hard and deep.

  I let every feeling in my body rise to the surface.

  Every place I ignore. Every thing I hide. Every ugly corner.

  She holds onto me like I'm a life raft.

  It's what she's asking.

  This is a huge responsibility.

  I have to treat it like one.

  "Well?" Her fingers dig into my chest. Her eyes go saucer wide. They bore into mine. Beg for every bit of affection in the world. "Did that help you figure it out?"

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dean

  Every molecule of my body screams the same thing.

  Somehow, I know this deep in my bones.

  I press my palm into Chloe's lower back to pull her closer. "I'm sure."

  "But what if I'm sick?"

  "I'm still sure."

  She stares back at me, assessing my words, looking for cracks.

  After what she's been through, I don't blame her.

  Hell, after the way I've treated her, I don't blame her.

  I don't have a way to convince her.

  Talk is cheap.

  Sticking around every day is what counts.

  But I can't do shit about that at the moment.

  "What if I'm dying?" she asks. "What if we only get a year to be together then you have to watch me disappear?"