by Emma Scott
When Kacey’s couch arrived, it took her, Theo and me half the evening to put it together. When it was done, and the empty box and pages of instructions were thrown out, her apartment was complete.
“Well,” she said, surveying the finished product. “It’s definitely like one of those model rooms in the IKEA store. They should pay me for the free advertising.”
Theo mustered his version of a smile. He’d warmed up to Kacey—slightly—over the last ten days. His eyes didn’t automatically roll when she talked to him and he actually engaged with a couple of her teasing remarks.
Now, as we readied to leave, she threw her arms around his neck. “Thanks, Teddy,” she said and kissed his cheek. “Is it okay to call you that?”
It was definitely not okay. I braced myself for Theo’s harsh rebuke against being called Teddy, but he only muttered something about waiting for me in the truck, and slipped out.
Wide-eyed, I watched him go, then swung my gaze back to Kacey. “He hates Teddy. Nobody calls him Teddy.”
She grinned, shrugged. “Didn’t seem to mind it coming from me. Besides, it fits him. He’s got a soft side.”
“Yeah, he does,” I said. A short silence curled up between us. It happened often since she’d come back. The jokes and teasing fell away, and it was just Kacey and me in each other’s space, waiting for something to happen next. A word or a touch that might change everything…
But it can’t. I can’t take her down that road with me because eventually we’ll come to the place where I have to go on, and she can’t follow.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m going to head out before Theo throws a fit.”
Kacey put her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss on the cheek, just as she had Theo. I felt her body all along mine, and my breath caught. My own arms were stiff and careful, as if I might break her.
Or break me.
“Thanks for helping me out tonight and all the other nights,” she said, her hands gliding down my shoulders before falling away.
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Have a good night, Kace.”
“You too. Oh, hey, I was thinking about stopping by the hot shop some time this week. Can I bring you guys some lunch?”
“Again? That’ll be the fifth time in two weeks. You don’t have to feed us.”
“I know,” she said. “But I want to. Leave it to me, Fletcher. I’ll take care of you.”
It’s too much. Say no. Keep to the routine…
Fat chance. Kacey was here now, and part of my routine. I’d told her to come back to Vegas because I missed her, and wanted her in my life, but I had no idea how hard it would be to keep her at a safe distance. I was a starving man at a banquet, hungry every day for what was right in front of me.
“Sounds great then,” I said, and got the hell out of there before I did something stupid.
Theo sat behind the wheel of his idling truck. But instead of a scowl or a gripe about making him wait, he only watched me get in, studied my face as if he was looking for something.
“What is it now?”
Theo turned back facing forward. “Nothing.”
He drove us along mostly empty side streets in residential Vegas—apartment complexes and small homes on either side. The Strip wasn’t visible but I could see its glow above the rooftops.
We hit a red light and Theo said, “She’s into you.”
I stared at my brother, my mouth going dry. “You think?”
“It’s not obvious?”
“Enlighten me.”
He shrugged. “The way she looks at you.”
My heart jumped in my chest. I did my best to sound casual as hell and not like a kid in junior high. “How was she looking at me?”
Theo glanced at me sideways. “Like she can’t stop. And you’re just as bad. I’m amazed we got the couch built.”
I faced forward, my thoughts running rampant at this revelation. Of course, my eyes were drawn to Kacey anytime she was in the room. I couldn’t help it. She was radiant. But to hear she’d been doing the same to me…
A junior high warmth spread through me, a soft glow of hope that I’d been keeping tamped down.
“She’s afraid she’ll fail me,” I said slowly. “Pull an Audrey.”
“So you’ve talked about it?” Theo asked. “Being together? Is that why she moved back?”
“No, we’re just friends. It’s all we can be.” I rubbed the place on my cheek where Kacey had kissed me. “It’s hard enough.”
“But you have feelings for her,” Theo said. It was not a question, and his voice was curiously quiet.
“I… Maybe. I don’t know,” I said. “Sometimes I think I shouldn’t have told her to come back here.”
“But you did,” Theo said in that same low tone, “because you do have feelings for her.”
I sighed, partially in surprise that I could talk about this with Theo when I expected another lecture. It felt good to talk about this with my brother instead of being walled off by his worry.
She looks at you like she can’t stop…
We’d arrived at my apartment complex. Theo threw the truck in park, and turned to face me. “What do you want to do?”
“What can I do? I don’t have time, and she knows it. I told her about the last biopsy.”
“Well, there you go,” he said, waving his hand. “You told her.”
“Yeah? And?”
“And she’s still here.”
Friday night. I was lying in my bed, reading. Or trying to. My focus kept wandering. Three a.m. is the stillest, quietest part of night, even in a city like Vegas, and the silence amplified the thoughts rattling in my head and heart. They filled the room, demanding to be acknowledged, begging to be answered.
Kacey…
“Knock it off,” I said under my breath.
What is she doing right now?
She would’ve gotten off her shift an hour ago. Been home twenty minutes later if she wasn’t delayed.
“She’s sleeping,” I said. “It’s what you should be doing.”
I tossed the book aside, clicked off the lamp and settled into my bed.
She bought me a bed.
“I’m aware,” I said.
The bed was infinitely more comfortable than the chair but I still couldn’t sleep. I lay on the right side. The left seemed to stretch for miles, like snowy tundra. Cold and barren.
I miss her.
“Shut it, Fletcher. Go to sleep.”
I closed my eyes, knowing it was futile. Then my cellphone on the nightstand buzzed a text.
“Dammit, Theo.”
But it wasn’t Theo. I sat up, the heart in my chest thudding.
Kacey.
Are u awake?
I managed to wait a whole ten seconds before replying. Always. What’s up?
I called my dad.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, knowing what it meant for her. I waited to see if she’d say more. No blinking little dots indicating she was typing. I hesitated, a thousand replies at the ready. Replies that could comfort from a safe distance. How did it go? Are you all right? Tell me about it?
I texted back, I can come over
No punctuation. Neither a question nor a statement. Vague enough she could tell me no.
The rolling dots, and then her reply:
Okay.
I could’ve walked to Kacey’s apartment but I shaved three minutes off by driving. Outside her door, I hesitated.
What are you doing?
“Being a friend.” The stifling night air chewed up the word ‘friend’ and spit it back out at me. “A friend who makes house calls.”
I knocked on the door and heard a muffled, “Come in.”
Kacey’s plant-filled apartment smelled of her perfume and the scented candles she loved. I inhaled deeply, both to catch my breath from the flight of stairs, and to fill myself with her.
She sat curled up on her couch, her legs tucked under her. The coffee table in front of her littered with crumpl
ed tissues. Only the lamp beside the couch was on, glowing yellow over her hunched shoulders. Her gaze flicked to me as I sat in the chair opposite. Even with red-rimmed eyes and a face swollen from crying, she looked incredibly beautiful.
“You want anything?” she asked. “Something to drink or…?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
I cleared my throat, my nerves perched on the edge of their seats, staring. Both the smooth skin of her legs and the way they were folded small into a corner of the couch, woke some primal, male urge in me. I wanted to protect her. To hold her and shield her from whatever hurt her. To put my body between her and the world, and while I was at it, wrap those legs around me and slide inside her…
“I’m sorry, it’s so late,” she said.
“I was awake anyway.” I leaned forward. “Tell me what happened.”
“Would you… Never mind.”
“What? What can I do?” Anything. I’d do anything for you.
Her eyes met mine and her voice was tiny as it asked, “Would you mind sitting next to me? I promise I won’t try to jump your bones or anything.”
“Sure,” I said. I moved from the chair to the couch, leaving a few inches between us, but she closed the distance at once, scooting next to me. Automatically, my arm went around her shoulders.
Because that’s what friends do when a friend is upset.
Except my friend smelled amazing. And I was hyper-aware of my friend’s skin touching mine, and the way I could feel the soft roundness of her breasts against my chest. I expected her to cry. I welcomed a weepfest—it would help bolster my insistence that I was only being a kind, supportive friend. But she snuggled up close and wrapped her arm around my waist, and when she spoke, her voice was watery but calm.
“I didn’t plan on calling my dad,” she said. “I wasn’t even thinking about him today. They accidentally double-booked my shift with another girl, so I got off work early. Around eight. I came home and turned on the TV, surfed around for awhile, and landed on Say Yes to the Dress.” She tilted her head up to look at me. “Have you ever seen it?”
“Never heard of it,” I said.
“It’s this stupid, silly, fabulous reality show where they follow different brides-to-be as they go shopping for their wedding dress. They bring along a best friend to help them choose. Or a bunch of bitchy friends. Or their overbearing mother. But the episode tonight…” Kacey sniffed. “One bride brought along some friends. And her father.”
She inhaled, and I felt the fluttery shudder of her breath huff against my chest. I held her tighter.
“So she’s trying on dresses, and they’re all pretty, but none of them are quite it. Until finally she tries on The One. And her whole group knows it’s The One because they all start crying. The bride cried, and then her dad cried, and then I cried because I wanted what she had so badly.”
“The dress?”
Kacey elbowed me in the side. “Smartass. The dress was awful, actually. Mermaid-style. She looked like she was wrapped in bandages. The point is, I wanted what she had with her dad.”
Her body wilted, leaning harder on mine. “Tell me more,” I said.
“This dad… He’d been a Marine, retired now, and super tough-looking. But a total softy when it came to his daughter. He didn’t bother to hide his feelings. He told the camera she would always be his little girl. He said how much he loved her and was proud of her.” Kacey’s voice cracked then broke. “This girl has this beautiful relationship with her dad that I’ll never have with mine. It hurts. I hate how it hurts. I want not to care but I can’t stop caring. I can’t. He’s my dad. I love him. Isn’t he supposed to feel the same?”
“He is,” I said. Still holding her, I reached for the tissue box on the table and plucked one.
“Thanks,” she said, dabbing her eyes.
“So you called him?”
“Like a dummy. I thought, I may not have what that girl and her father have, but I can start somewhere. I can try. I didn’t let myself overthink it, just grabbed my phone and called him. And he answered, not my mom, and I thought, That’s a sign.”
She reached for another tissue. “Yeah, it was a sign all right. That I’m a fucking idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot,” I said. “What did he say?”
“He was quiet, as usual. But I was nervous so I started babbling like a moron. I told him I’d quit a successful rock band and threw away millions of dollars and fame and fortune. So I could sling cocktails at Caesar’s because I knew it was healthier for me. I was better for it. I told him I was living on my own, paying my own rent, and writing my own music. I said I was happy, even if my songs weren’t seeing the light of day outside my notebook yet.” She sniffled and burrowed her face closer to my chest.
I slid my hand into her hair. “What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Okay, then.’”
I waited for more but nothing came.
“Okay then what?” I said.
“That was it. Okay, then. And he hung up. He just…hung up on me.”
My mouth hung half-open and useless as she sobbed against my chest, her tears wetting my shirt. I put my other arm around her as well and held her close. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
She pulled free and fired the balled-up tissues across the room. “I’m tired of feeling like this. I feel so pathetic wanting my own father to need me in his life.” She stared down at her empty hands. “He doesn’t need me.”
“I need you.” It was the truth, and sometimes truth refuses to be contained. It bursts out, usually when it’s least convenient, but also when it’s needed most.
She smiled wanly, laid her hand over my chest where her tears had dampened my shirt. “You’re sweet. I had no one and you gave me friendship and a place to live.”
“I need you,” I said again.
Her eyes settled on mine. “You do?”
I nodded. God, she was so close to me, I could smell her skin. Sweet, like caramel. “Friends serve different purposes, right? Some things you can only say to certain people, some things you can say to others.”
Kacey’s gaze was unwavering. “Tell me something you can’t tell your other friends,” she said softly. “Something you can only tell me.”
For a few seconds I was lost in the blue pools of her eyes, struck mute by the thousands of things I wanted to tell her.
“I’m scared,” I said.
Her hand crept into mine. “Okay.”
“But who wouldn’t be?”
She didn’t say anything. I felt her acceptance and trust pouring into me from her eyes. I could spill my guts to her and she’d listen, or I could keep it to myself and she’d understand.
“Everyone is watching me, all the time. I feel like…I can’t do or say anything without weighing it carefully. Because everything I do means something, even when it doesn’t. I can’t raise my voice or get angry or irritated because I can’t leave that kind of memory. I have only a finite amount of words left to say. I have to choose them carefully.”
She nodded and let me continue. Which I did, telling her more than I meant to, telling her what I couldn’t tell anyone else. The words poured out of me and into Kacey’s lap.
“My actions too. I’m being constantly watched, studied, examined. Am I tired from a long day at the shop, or is it something worse? They treat me like I’m breakable. Like the whole world is a potential threat. Someone might say the wrong thing and upset me, and God forbid I should ever be upset. But I am upset.”
Kacey nodded.
“I get scared or pissed off that this happened to me,” I said. “I took care of myself, you know? I exercised like a bastard, I ate right, and I still got really fucking sick. Like being hit by a truck even though I looked both ways and the street was empty.”
I rubbed my hand hard on my knee so I wouldn’t clench it into a fist. The other held Kacey’s tight. I worried I was bruising her fingers, but I couldn’t let go.
“So yea
h…I’m scared,” I said. “And that’s something I can’t tell my other friends.”
She let go my hand and then she was in my arms, hugging me around the neck. “Thank you for telling me.”
I froze, my senses infused with her. The softness of her hair on my cheek, the caramel scent of her warm skin. My arms went around her, stiffly at first, but she was so soft. She melted into me, wanting to be held. And like telling her what I couldn’t tell anyone else, I wanted to hold her like I held no one else. Stroke her hair, inhale her sweetness. Kiss her and never stop…
Her head lifted off my shoulder, but her arms still ringed my neck. She looked at me, her lips parted expectantly, her eyes warm and soft. In the silence, she raised her hand, and laid her palm on my chest. My heart pounded back under her touch, and a soft smile came to her lips.
“It feels so strong,” she murmured.
The top of my scar was just visible at the hem of my collar. Kacey hooked her index finger on the edge of my shirt drew it down, revealing another inch of angry red. Head cocked, she studied it, ran her thumb over the shiny ridge.
I fought not to pull back…or lean forward into her touch. Halfway between panic and desire, I froze but for my heart that was galloping.
“You’re the first woman…the first person to touch my scar.”
“That’s not right,” she murmured, and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on that ugly seam. Then she curled against my chest, exhausted and spent, safe between me and the couch cushions.
I lay back, taking her with me. I held her, relishing the feel of her body along mine, memorizing the softness of her hair falling through my fingers. I closed my eyes, letting all my other senses absorb the warmth and comfort of having a woman in my arms. This woman.
I was tempted to stay all night. To kiss her good morning and fuck the consequences. But when the first light of dawn sliced through the window, it glinted off my watch. I had forty minutes to get home and take my immune suppressants. If I delayed, those consequences would fuck with me.
I slipped off the couch, covered Kacey with a throw blanket, and quietly left.
Dena and Oscar were ecstatic about Kacey coming back in town, and insisted on doing something special to welcome her to Vegas. I smelled an ulterior motive, but I was touched they wanted to bring her into our regular Monday hang-outs.