by Emma Scott
He nodded and twisted a lock of my hair in his fingers. “I want them to meet you. Moreover, I don’t want to be apart from you any longer than necessary.”
“You’ve really got this pillow-talk down, don’t you?”
“I’ve been practicing, can you tell?”
“Very smooth.”
He silenced my laughter with kisses. God, even first thing in the morning he tasted so good. So clean. I broke away with a small sigh, rested my chin on his chest. “I’d love to meet your parents. Actually, I take that back—I’m nervous as hell to meet your parents, but I can’t go tonight. I had to take another gal’s shift at Caesar’s to cover the weekend. I’ll be slinging free booze in a toga from one o’clock until nine.”
“Next Sunday?”
“Next Sunday works,” I said. “It’ll give me a week to prepare myself. And a week for Theo to get used to the idea. Still not sure that he likes me. At all.”
Jonah wore a funny smile. “I think he likes you plenty.”
“He doesn’t show it well. And poor Holly—the way he just dumped her in the middle of the woods?”
“Yeah, that was shitty,” Jonah said. “One of the Big Feets might’ve grabbed her and taken her for a mate.”
“Oh aren’t your hilarious?” I bent to kiss him again, simply because I could. The kiss deepened and started to turn into something more, then Jonah’s watch alarm went off from the bedside table.
“Your meds,” I said, kissing around his mouth.
“Yeah, my meds.”
I threw on a long shirt and underwear, he put on sleep pants and a white undershirt. We went to the kitchen together, and he introduced me to his regimen.
He gave me the quick rundown of how to make his protein shake. He started swallowing one pill after another while I blended the powders and supplements. Soon, he had to grip the counter and breathe through a wave of nausea.
“Not sure what’s worse,” he said, his head hanging down. “When it comes or that I know it’s coming.”
I poured him a glass of water and rubbed his back.
This is real. This is what it means to be with him. .
A whisper in my mind told me I didn’t have the guts to handle anything worse. I swallowed it down, silenced the thought. I wanted to be with him. Not just swept up in an emotional moment under a starry sky, but breathing side-by-side with him through the nausea.
“Do you have other side effects?” I asked.
He nodded, taking a long sip of water. “Insatiable horniness.”
I snorted a laugh. “I noticed. What else?”
“The steroids cause excessive hair growth. Everywhere. I spend a good two hours a day shaving it all off.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“In fact, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “My back has some real hard-to-reach places.”
“Smartass.” I rolled my eyes and kissed the tip of his nose. “C'mon, I’m being serious. Or trying to.”
“I have nausea, sometimes my ankles swell, but it doesn’t last.” He shrugged. “I don’t have too many other side-effects. I’m lucky in that respect.”
I nodded while he busied himself with making me coffee. I sat on a stool to drink it, right across from Jonah choking down his protein shake. Déjà vu. Minus the burnt-out hangover.
Jonah met my eyes. His smile stretched out warm, almost proud. “Look at you, here,” he said softly. “Just like before, but everything’s different.”
“Different better,” I said, and climbed halfway across the counter to kiss him.
“Wait—” he started to say but my kiss was faster.
I grimaced and sat back in my seat.
“I tried to warn you,” he laughed
“Mmm, I taste grass and twigs, a hint of powered milk, and smidge of ass.” I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand while Jonah laughed. “I’m going to learn to make you something that tastes better than…whatever the hell that is.”
“Figure that out and you’ll be greatly rewarded.”
“In bed?”
“In bed. On the counter. The floor, the couch…”
“That’s no reward, that’s our life now,” I said, slipping off my stool to come around and kiss him again. I didn’t give a damn about aftertaste. Whenever the urge to kiss him came over me, I would kiss him. No more living life halfway. We had to go full tilt, just like the card players did. I would hit instead of stay. Always.
We dressed, and Jonah drove me back to my place. I jumped out of his truck and came around the driver’s side. “Have a great day, call me later.”
“I will,” he said.
I kissed him deeply, my hand slipping to the back of his neck while his cupped my cheek.
“I miss you already,” I said.
He brushed his thumb along my jaw and said softly. “Talk to you soon, Kace.”
I watched him drive off, and it was as if some invisible clock began ticking in my head. Counting down the seconds while at the same time adding them up to form minutes, and eventually the hours until I could see him again.
“Moments,” I murmured to myself as the Nevada heat beat down on me. “We have thousands of moments.”
At eleven or so, I was watching a movie on TV while toweling my hair from a shower when someone pounded on the door, hard enough to make it rattle. I muted the TV and grabbed my phone, ready to hit the emergency button.
“Who is it?”
“Theo.”
Well, shit. I tossed my phone down and twisted open the locks. Theo filled the doorway, his tatted, muscled arms crossed over his broad chest.
I crossed my arms as well. “Next time bring a battering ram. It’s more effective.”
“Can I come in or not?”
“Be my guest.”
He strode past me with purpose but once he was inside, he seemed unsure. He jammed his hands in the front pocket of his jeans.
Just like Jonah does, I thought.
Theo stared at my muted TV where Jon Cryer was dancing like a precious freak in a record store.
“It’s Pretty in Pink,” I told Theo. “Have you seen it?”
He snorted in the negative.
“Classic movie! Everyone gets all pissy that Andie ends up with Blaine at the end instead of Duckie. But honestly, if the movie had played out for another year, Blaine would’ve broken her heart. And Duckie would be right there for her, just like he always was. I’m not saying Blaine is bad for her. Not at all. They make each other happy, but Duckie? Duckie’s in it for the long haul.”
I watched a few more muted seconds before realizing Theo was staring at me as if I were an alien life form.
“Sorry,” I said. “I get carried away with eighties movies. They hold the philosophy of life for me.” I shut off the TV. “So. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No.”
He had a pretty good glower going on, but it didn’t intimidate me. Even now, when his gaze on me hardened into something close to anger.
“Okay then,” I said. “You want to tell me the purpose of this visit? I’m sure you didn’t come here for Pretty in Pink 101.”
“You and Jonah,” he said. “You’re sleeping together.”
“I thought we established this back at Grand Basin.”
Theo began to pace my tiny living room, his hand scrubbing through his hair. “Listen, there’s some shit you need to know if you’re going to be…with him. Shit he won’t tell you because he’s too damn stubborn.”
“Like?”
“His immune system is fucked, okay? Because of the drugs he has to take. If he gets a cold or an infection, it’s not like you or I getting sick. It could kill him.”
“I’m aware,” I said. “He seems healthy now—”
“Yeah, now. Four months ago, he caught a cold from somewhere, and it turned into pneumonia. He was in the hospital for two days.”
I shivered involuntarily. “Oh. Okay.”
“So you have to be careful. If you even think you
’re coming down with something, you have to stay away from him. You can’t…kiss him or sleep in the same bed. Promise me.”
I nodded. “Of course. Jonah’s talked to me about it and I understand. I’ll be careful.”
“And when you have sex…” Theo’s face turned red and he turned his glance to anywhere in the room but on me. “You have to take it easy on the sex.”
“All right, that sort of falls under the category of None of Your Business.”
“Not if his goddamn life is at stake,” Theo spat. “Everything he does is my business.”
“I think he can handle his bedroom matters, bossy,” I said, trying to lighten the energy between us. “He’ll know what he’s up for. No pun intended.”
Theo’s face went even redder. “He might, or he might not,” he said. “Like I said, he’s a stubborn bastard.”
And you’re the epitome of grace and tact, Theodore. I kept the snark to myself though. “It seems to me he’s doing a really good job of being careful,” I said. “And I will too. I will, Theo, I promise.”
He nodded, his hard stare unrelenting. I held still in it, letting him see me. Despite his rough manner, I liked Theo. He was Jonah’s family and I wanted him to like me too, especially now that Jonah and I were together.
“I promise,” I said again.
His hands went back in his pockets. “All right.”
“Is anything else bothering you?”
“I want to know what your intentions are.”
I blinked. “My intentions? To make an honest man out of him?”
I laughed and went to give him a playful shove but he stepped aside. “You’re just going to leave.”
I froze, my laughter catching in my throat. “No, I’m not,” I said softly. “I would never…”
“This is a big fucking deal,” Theo said. “This is the rest of his life. Do you get that? The rest of his life. If you hurt him…”
I leaned my hip on the back of my couch for support. “Hurting him is the last thing I want.”
We stared across the space of my little living room. Slowly the steely glint in Theo’s eyes softened. His hands came out, looked for something to do, and then he crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay. And what happens when it gets bad? What are you going to do?”
“I’m not thinking like that,” I said, and felt my own anger flare. “What about hope? What about not being so goddamn sure he doesn’t have a chance?”
“He does have a chance. He does…”
Theo’s arms fell to his sides, and his shoulders slumped a little. His face seemed to tear down the middle, revealing the pain beneath. I remembered Jonah telling me Theo had stood beside him every minute of his illness. He was there when Audrey left. He was sitting next to Jonah when the results of the last biopsy were read. He’d had a front-row seat to all the terrible things in Jonah’s life. I’d be blind not to see it had made him take responsibility for his brother the only way he knew how.
“You’re a good brother to him,” I said softly. “You don’t need me to tell you, but I will. You are.” I moved close to him, rested my hand on his arm. His shoulder went up and down dismissively, but he didn’t shy from my touch.
I hesitated. “How are you?”
He made a face. “What?”
“I think…maybe you don’t get asked that a lot. Especially lately. So I’m asking. How are you doing?”
He stared down at me, his thick brows furrowed, as if I were speaking a foreign language. Under my hand, his skin raised gooseflesh, the fine hairs on his forearm lifting. We both noticed it at the same time, and he jerked away.
“I’m fine,” he said, striding toward the door. “It’s him we need to take care of.” The door slammed behind him.
“Okay,” I said to the empty space. “Good talk.”
The following day, a Monday, I arrived at the hot shop promptly at noon, two bags from SkinnyFATS in hand: chicken salads with arugula and capers for myself and Jonah, a breaded buffalo chicken salad for Tania. I had to juggle the bag with a tray of three smoothies as I hauled the hot shop’s sliding door open. It screeched and protested, and by some miracle I managed not to spill anything.
Tania and Jonah were working at opposite ends of a blowpipe. Jonah’s eyes were narrowed in concentration as he rolled and shaped.
“Air,” he said.
Behind him, Tania blew into the pipe. The glass swelled.
“Right there,” Jonah said, his eyes on the piece. “Perfect.”
When it was safe to interrupt, I approached. “Hey, anyone hungry?”
“Starved!” Tania enveloped me in a hug that smelled like sweat and burnt paper. “You’re spoiling us with these lunchtime visits. Not that I’m complaining…”
I hugged her back, thinking, I have five friends here now. I’d never stayed in one place long enough to have so many.
I glanced over Tania’s shoulder at Jonah. He smiled to himself, as if satisfied, and hung the blowpipe from the ceiling. He joined us and kissed me hello.
“SkinnyFATS,” Tania said, poking into the bags. “I love this joint.” Her head flicked up. “Wait, what just happened?”
“Nothing,” Jonah said, giving me a second kiss.
“It just happened again.” Tania looked from him to me and back. “When did this happen?”
I laughed. “Over the weekend.”
“Twice on Sunday,” Jonah added.
“Oh my God.” I rolled my eyes at him.
“Holy shit!” Tania hugged me again, then gathered Jonah in. “I’m so happy for you guys. This is amazing.”
“Nah, it’s just lunch,” Jonah said, rummaging in the bag and coming up with an orange smoothie. He raised an eyebrow at me. “They were out of mulch?”
“Fresh out, smartass,” I teased.
His cell rang. He fished it out of his back pocket and looked at the number. “It’s Eme,” he said. “Hey, this is Jonah…” He walked out of the hotshop with its constant hiss of burning furnaces and churning air conditioning to take the call.
“Who’s Eme?” I asked Tania, as we set up lunch on fold-up table and chairs, well away from the fire and trays of loose glass.
“Eme Takamura,” Tania said, forking a bite of her salad. “She’s the curator of the gallery that’s displaying Jonah’s installation in the Wynn.”
My eyes bulged. “His installation’s at the Wynn? Isn’t that a big-time hotel?”
“Super big time,” Tania said. “Jonah didn’t tell you?” She sniffed when I shook my head. “Figures. He’s modest to the point of annoying. Anyway, Eme got wind of him through Carnegie and after seeing some of his work, she set up to house his project in the Wynn Galleria.”
“That’s incredible.”
“What’s incredible is you and Jonah. I’m so happy for you guys, I can’t stand it.”
“You seem surprised,” I said.
“You kidding?” she said around a mouth full of greens. “I’m shocked. I honestly thought…” She trailed off as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.
“You thought what?”
Tania glanced up at me, then around to the door where we could see Jonah pacing and talking. “The Jonah I know has always been so serious. Intent on his work, you know? Since you’ve been back in town he’s been different. He smiles more. Laughs more. He’s always been a smartass, but now he’s a kinder, gentler smartass. He still works his butt off—and mine—but it’s as if some kind of weight or shadow has been lifted. And now finding out you two are together…” She shook her head. “It’s not everyday he lets in someone into his life. You’re the first since I’ve known him. It’s huge. Maybe now he’ll rethink letting everyone else back in.”
“At least for his installation,” I said. “I want everyone to see it.”
“Me too. He’s so talented. And a truly good guy. Selfless. Maybe too selfless, trying to protect everyone he cares about, so much that he neglects his own happiness.”
The door screeched open and Jo
nah returned, his hands fidgety with his cell phone. “Eme wanted a progress report. I told her two more weeks and we can start moving boxes over to the space.”
“Two weeks is enough,” Tania said.
But studying the display of his phone, Jonah looked pale.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“Eme said she sent out invites for the installation opening,” he said, his voice tight. “Big names, a lot of her connections. She sent one to the Chihuly Studio.”
Tania’s fingers rose to her lips. “And?”
Jonah’s glance darted between us. “She got a response saying Dale is really busy in early October, but he’d try his best to attend.” Jonah scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Eme sent an invite to the studio. I thought maybe they’d send a representative, if they sent anyone.”
“But Dale might come?” Tania rose to her feet. “Personally?”
“Holy shit,” I said.
“Oh my god, holy shit.” Tania threw arms around Jonah, who looked dazed over her shoulder. “Holy…” She threw him off, seized her fork and crammed a few bites in her mouth. “Eat. Hurry up. Let’s get back to it. There’s a bunch of stuff with the still water I want to finish.”
“And the rays of sunlight,” Jonah said.
“And holy shit, Dale Chihuly. In person.” One last bite and Tania bustled off to the back room, leaving Jonah and I alone. I got up and slipped my arms around his neck, hugging him tight. I left my hands entwined in his hair, and locked eyes with him.
“Look at my talented boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend, huh?” He wrapped his arms around my waist. “I…” He glanced away with a short laugh. “I was going to make a joke right there, but I like boyfriend too much.”
“Dale freaking Chihuly,” I said.
“I know. It’s surreal. But not for sure. He’s busy. He might not make it at all…”
“Or he might.” I glanced down, ran my hand over Jonah’s chest. “What can I do to help? Maybe contact some of your old friends from UNLV or Carnegie?”
Jonah stiffened. “I don’t know. We’ll see. I have too much work to do right now.”