The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories

by Brina Courtney

  “Hey man,” I said, shaking his hand. “This should be fun.”

  “Yeah, always is. Hey before I forget, we’re going for pizza after the game if you and...Cheyenne want to come,” he said, looking at Brooke standing next to me.

  “Yeah, that sounds good. This is my girlfriend Brooke.”

  They exchanged handshakes.

  “I’m going to go sit with your parents.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you after the game,” I said, kissing the top of her head.

  She left to sit with my parents in the bleachers. They were sitting at the top; the best seat in my opinion. My parents were pros at watching games since I played baseball and football growing up. My parents had brought padded bleacher chairs, an umbrella to shade the sun and an ice chest with drinks and snacks.

  As I turned to go over to Phil, I saw Avery and Nicole enter the gate of the park. I didn’t know they were coming, but I knew Cheyenne would be very happy. I walked over to Cheyenne and Courtney; they were throwing the ball back and forth, warming up.

  “Uncle A is here,” I said to Cheyenne.

  “Awesome!”

  “Don’t forget to stretch.”

  “Yes, Coach!”

  Phil and I planned what position each girl would play. There were twelve girls on the team, ten would play the field at one time and each girl would bat. After we decided which girls would start and then rotate in, we planned the batting order.

  I missed playing. I didn’t regret not going to college and playing; possibly playing in the major leagues—I got Cheyenne out of the deal and she was my world. Things have a way of working themselves out. If I were in the major leagues, I would probably be married to a gold digger bimbo that got pregnant on purpose to trap me.

  The game that was underway when we arrived at the field finally ended and Phil told the girls who would start. Each girl ran onto the field once it was raked and ready for the next game. Phil hit grounders to the infield, warming them up and I threw balls to the outfield for them to catch. Balls rarely went far into the outfield, but we wanted our girls ready for anything. Phil and I both were trying to form all-stars.

  We were home, so the other team batted first. Courtney played first and Cheyenne started at third. Another girl wanted to play third, so she and Cheyenne would switch off. Cheyenne would also switch off with the girl at shortstop, so she could determine what position she wanted to play.

  I was fine with whatever, but I knew she would chose third. Dana played third and so did Brooke. Brooke could teach her things once she was well, that I couldn’t. It would be good bonding for my girls.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Brooke

  My weekend with Easton and Cheyenne went better than expected. Cheyenne played extremely well, always getting on base when she would bat and only missed a few balls between her legs. I was proud of her. Easton had told me so many stories that I felt like I already knew her.

  After the game, we went for pizza with her friend Courtney and her parents. Nicole and Avery showed up to the game a few minutes before it started and they joined us for pizza as well. I felt more comfortable having Nicole there with Easton’s parents and me. I really liked Jimmy and Jane, but at least they could talk to Avery and not just me.

  Avery was like their second son and reminded me of how I was with Nicole’s parents. Over the last few years, life got in the way and I wasn’t around them much except Thanksgiving and Christmas. Nicole’s parents didn’t take me in when I was growing up, not until Nicole and I met our freshman year in high school. Those four years were the best of my life. I finally saw how parents should love their children.

  Cheyenne had seemed to warm up to me a little in the short time that I was with her. I understood her hesitancy towards me, but if I just talked her language then she was fine with me. And her language was softball. It was cute. Her little world was her dad, her grandparents, softball and Courtney—not sure if it was in that order or not.

  When Bailee was ten, she wasn’t into softball, but Barbie’s. That girl loved her dolls. She would dress them up, make them go on dates and of course, I bought her a Barbie Mansion for her eighth birthday. I had to save up for six months working as a hostess at the diner, but she loved it and that was all that mattered. She played with her Barbie family as if they were real. They were her world. Barbie and Ken were married with kids and I knew why she did it, but I never said anything. I tried to tell my mother that Bailee needed her more, but my mom needed sex more than us.

  I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell my mom about my tumor. Does a mother that pretty much only gave birth to her daughter, deserve to know that she may have cancer? And what would happen? My mother was never there when I was growing up, mending a broken heart, making sure Bailee survived, and making sure we had food in the fridge.

  Yeah, my mother gave us money...a hundred dollars a week to buy food, but a kid needed love—I needed love.

  After pizza, Cheyenne stayed the night at Courtney’s house and Easton, Nicole, Avery, and I hung out at Easton’s for a while until Nicole and Avery needed alone time. Before we had to leave the next morning for home. It was nice spending time alone with Easton. We cuddled on his couch, watched a movie and went to bed and made love until we were both exhausted and fell asleep tangled together—the way I dreamt about when we weren’t together.

  *~*~*

  I went to another doctor for a second opinion the Wednesday after New York at the request of Doctor Bloom. He of course said I needed to have the tumor removed. By the time I made it back to work, Doctor Bloom’s office called me to schedule my surgery. Everything was happening too fast.

  I wanted the pain gone, but I was scared of having the surgery. I was scared that I might have cancer. Nicole tried to comfort me as did Easton. They both told me that once we knew if I had cancer, then we would know what we needed to do. Not every tumor was cancerous, but it was still freaking me out.

  I hadn’t told Bailee about my tumor. I didn’t want her to worry. Finals were only a few weeks away and I needed her to focus. I couldn’t let her worry about me, since I had Nicole and Easton to take care of me and they were doing a good job so far.

  Doctor Bloom had a demanding schedule and I would have had to wait two months before having my tumor removed, but I only had to wait a week. He had a cancelation and the next Friday I decided I was having surgery. I figured I should just get it over with and hopefully in the two months that I would have had to wait for the surgery, I would be healing and almost back to my usual self.

  My MRI was scheduled for the next night (Thursday) and I went alone. It was brutal. Not being able to move for what felt like eternity was hard. They told me that it would only be forty-five minutes, but I was in that thing for an hour and a half. A few times the lady came out and let me move a little because she needed to get a different angle.

  The doctors told me that my tumor was “unique”. It was unique because of the location. The second opinion doctor suggested that he would go through my back to get the tumor out and Doctor Bloom wanted to go in through my right side. If they couldn’t get the tumor through either way, they would go through my chest cavity.

  Friday, I talked to Ian at work; he wasn’t happy. I would be out of the office a month and half for recovery and I was his only paralegal. I decided to take the week off before my surgery because my head wasn’t in it and when I say “in it”, I mean all I could think about was my tumor. I told Ian that the doctor wanted me to prep for surgery and not stress—which was true. He gave me a doctor’s note at my request even though I really didn’t need it to start until Friday.

  Lucy and Mike were more supportive than Ian. They told Ian that they would do their own paralegal work or they could hire a temporary replacement. Ian being the cheap bastard that he was, decided not to hire anyone and Lucy and Mike were stuck doing my work, too. I felt bad for them, but they understood. They actually cared for me, unlike Ian and they promised to sneak me in a few cheeseburgers o
r something so I didn’t have to eat nasty hospital food.

  Easton and Avery hired a few more bartenders so they could be in Boston for my surgery. I tried to tell them that I would be fine and I would see them when I got out, but they weren’t listening to me.

  No one was listening. Friday night before my surgery, Nicole and Avery came over and made sure I had enough food, movies, and books on my Kindle. It felt nice to have people caring for me. Nicole always cared for me, but this was like a mother, not just my friend.

  I missed Cheyenne’s game that Saturday, but Easton filled me in when he came that night. He stayed two nights only, because he couldn’t leave Cheyenne for too long. I was still trying to be strong and not show that I was scared. I got the feeling that he wasn’t really buying it, but he never said anything, he just made sure I still had food like Avery and Nicole did the day before. Little did they know, I didn’t have much of an appetite.

  Before he left, he gave me another one of his t-shirts that smelled like him—delicious. This time it was an Anaheim Angels one. I was a Red Sox fan, but I wore his shirt anyway, because it was his shirt.

  That week, I had to do breathing exercises to get my lungs ready for surgery. They were going to have to deflate my right lung so they could get to the tumor. I hadn’t realized how weak my lungs were until I had to blow in a device and make a ball float to a certain point and hold it there for a few seconds. I could barely do five seconds and Doctor Bloom wanted me to get to ten.

  I was freaking out.

  After I have the surgery, I was told that I would need to blow into the device again a few times a day to prevent pneumonia and if my lungs weren’t strong enough, then I was screwed. I couldn’t leave the hospital until they were sure my lungs were clear. Doctor Bloom estimated I would be in the hospital for at least five days, so I did the breathing exercises whenever I had a free time, like watching TV, reading, whatever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Easton

  When I talked to Brooke on Wednesday night and she told me that she was having surgery in nine days, I was scrambling. I wasn’t ready. Avery and I hadn’t hired more bartenders, I hadn’t talked to Cheyenne about Brooke’s tumor, and I couldn’t just take off and be with Brooke and take care of her like I wanted to.

  Thursday when I went into Halo, I told Avery about Brooke’s surgery date and he said he would take care of hiring people. We also talked to Bethy and she was covering on Saturday night for me. I just had to get through Friday night and coach Peanut’s game and then I would be on my way to take care of my girl—even if it was for only a few days.

  Thursday after practice, I decided to talk to Cheyenne about Brooke’s tumor and hoped that she would understand why I needed to keep seeing Brooke. I didn’t want Cheyenne to think that I was replacing her or wanting to spend more time with Brooke than her. Of course, I wanted to be with Brooke any free time I had, but I actually wanted to be with both my girls so they would start getting to know each other.

  I thought that we’d might have had a few weeks or longer for Brooke to keep going to Chey’s softball games, but she only made it to the one. I also didn’t want Cheyenne to think that Brooke didn’t want to come to anymore games, because she did. Brooke told me that she had so much fun and it brought back memories of her time playing. I had to hand it to her, while raising her sister, she still found time to work a part-time job for extra cash and play softball. She really was my Superwoman.

  “Hey Peanut, once you get cleaned up, I need to talk to you,” I said, walking into the house after practice.

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “Just go get cleaned up and ready for dinner. We’ll talk then.”

  Cheyenne left to take a shower while I made one of Cheyenne’s favorite meals: chicken teriyaki bowls. I loved that it was her favorite because it was easy to make.

  “Did you like having Brooke at your game?” I asked as we sat at our kitchen table.

  “I guess,” she shrugged.

  “Remember how I said that she would come to a lot of them and she said she would help you practice and get better?”

  “Yeah?”

  “She’s not going to be able to make it this weekend.”

  “Why, did you break up?”

  “No, of course not.” That thought killed me just thinking about it. “She’s sick.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “It’s more than a cold or the flu, Peanut.”

  “What is it?”

  “Do you know what a tumor is?”

  “I think so,” she said, sticking a bite of the salty sweet chicken in her mouth.

  “Well, a tumor is like a ball that grows inside you.”

  “Eww!”

  I had to take a deep breath before my next description. “Sometimes that ball can be cancer.”

  “She’s...she’s dying?”

  “No, Peanut...well...we don’t know. We aren’t sure if it is cancer or not.”

  “So sometimes a tumor isn’t a bad thing?”

  “Right, but Brooke is in a lot of pain and she has to have it removed. Next Friday, she’s having surgery to remove it.”

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  “She can’t come to your games anymore until she gets better.”

  “How long will that be?”

  “I’m not sure, Peanut. Hopefully very soon,” I sighed...hopefully soon.

  “Okay.”

  “On Saturday after your game, I need to go take care of her. She’s getting ready to have surgery and she needs me to take care of her.”

  “Can I come?”

  “Not this time. I won’t be back until Monday night for practice and you have school.”

  “Oh,” she frowned looking into her bowl.

  “Do you want to visit her in the hospital and bring her flowers? I bet she will want to hear all about your games that she’s missing.”

  “Okay!”

  When I finally made it to Boston Saturday night, Brooke looked worried. She tried to act like she was happy, but I would catch her thinking a lot. I tried taking her mind off everything but that only lasted for a few hours.

  “Want to go out tonight?” I asked after I set my bag in her bedroom when I arrived a little before five.

  “Out where?”

  “Well, you know, I haven’t even taken you on a real date, yet.”

  “Huh...I guess you’re right,” she said, leaning on the doorframe, watching me.

  “Let me take my girlfriend on a real date before she has a month and half recovery after surgery and we don’t know what that entails.”

  She thought for a moment. I saw something in her eyes as she looked away. I wasn’t sure, but she didn’t have the same energy as she had before we found out about the tumor. She didn’t look sick, she just didn’t look like the girl I met a month before. “Okay, where do you want to go?”

  “Not sure. I’ll figure it out, go get dressed.” She looked down at her yoga pants. “No, dressed up. I’m taking my lady to a nice dinner.”

  “Okay.” She smiled. It was almost her normal smile. I would get it before the night was over.

  *~*~*

  I called ahead to the Italian restaurant and put in our name. When we arrived we had a table for two available that overlooked the harbor. I ordered a bottle of wine and we nibbled on bread while we waited for our entrees.

  Brooke wore a simple black strapless dress and black heels. She was gorgeous. When I wanted more than a random dick suck, I took a few women out over the last five years. Usually they tried too hard. They would wear short dresses that showed their ass when they bent over, a ton of make-up and a bottle of perfume. At the time, that was my type. Now I had the girl of my dreams—the one that didn’t need make-up to be beautiful or close-to-nothing clothes; I didn’t need the slutty look to turn me on. Hell Brooke’s yoga pants turned me on!

  We ate a family style meal and then I orde
red her favorite dessert; crème brûlée.

  “How did you know that was my favorite?” she asked after the waiter left.

  “Because you ordered it every night on the cruise.”

  “Oh.” She laughed. “I guess I did. Do you know how to make it?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Not yet?”

  “I plan to,” I said with a smirk.

  “If you do that, you’ll make me fat.” She laughed again. Her smile was almost normal.

  “Trust me, I won’t let that happen. I know of a few ways to burn those calories,” I winked at her.

  The waiter brought the dessert and I let Brooke have most of it. I don’t think she realized it, but she kept going for more and I let her. After dinner, we walked down to the harbor and walked along the water, looking at the cityscape as it reflected off the dark water. It was a warm night, the stars shining bright and everything was perfect.

  Brooke asked about Cheyenne’s game and I told her how Cheyenne got out a few times at bat, but did much better in the field; only one ball went between her legs. I also told her how in practice and at the game, Cheyenne was trying to dive for balls when they were grounders instead of line drives. She wasn’t even close to catching the line drives and she was too soon to stop the ball that was just a grounder. Her timing was off.

  “I’m going to have to show her how to do it,” Brooke said, resting her head on my arm as we walked.

  “Yeah—yeah you are.”

  “If I don’t have nerve damage after my surgery.”

  “You won’t.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “I do. You’re my Superwoman.”

  “Well, let’s hope. I just want the tumor out, for it to not be cancer and for me to not be in pain anymore.”

  “I want the same, Baby,” I said and kissed the side of her head.

  We walked for about thirty minutes, watching people walk along the water and some sitting on benches making out. I hated the distance between us. I didn’t care that we’d only known each other for a short time—sometimes you just know. It took me thirty-one years to find her, but I knew I had, and I’d be damned if God would take her from me.