Presently Perfect (Perfect #3)

by Alison G. Bailey

  “I think I did pretty well.”

  “Me too. I mean… I think… I did well. I’m sure you did well too. I was just referring to… never mind.”

  Finally, the line started moving at a steady pace. I was a man on a mission.

  “Are you done?” Angela followed behind, matching me step for step.

  “I have two more, English and History. How about you?

  “This was my last one.”

  “Lucky,” I said.

  “Yeah. Hey, are you still working at the hospital?”

  “I sure am.”

  “It would be great to be able to work there, especially since that’s where I’ll be going to medical school.”

  “I’ll ask around and see if anyone is hiring.”

  “Really? That’s so nice of you.”

  “No problem.”

  Once I got close to the front of the room, I elbowed my way through the crowd of students standing around the professor kissing his ass for a better grade. Tossing my paper on the desk, I turned to leave, almost running into Angela.

  “Hey, Noah, would you like to grab some lunch? You know, to celebrate the end of exams.”

  “Well, I still have two exams.” I smiled.

  Her face immediately flushed red. “That’s right. Sorry. We could just celebrate having lunch.”

  “Thanks for the invite, but I’ll have to take a rain check. I have somewhere very important to be and I’m already running late.”

  Waving her hand, she took a step back. “Sure. I understand. We’ll do it some other time.”

  I turned to leave when again I felt a hand on my arm.

  “If you give me your phone, I’ll put my number in it… in case you hear about a job.”

  “I’m pretty sure I have it. Everybody in the study group exchanged numbers.” I scrolled through my contact list, then held the phone up to Angela. “Yep, I got it.”

  “Fantastic. Call me. It doesn’t have to be about a job. We could just hang out sometime.”

  “I really gotta go.”

  “Okay. Well, have a nice day.”

  “Thanks. You too.”

  I spun around and rushed out the door before anyone else decided to strike up a conversation with me. Jumping in my truck, I tore out of the parking lot. I had one stop to make before going to get my girl.

  I leaned against my truck parked in the front of the chemo clinic, holding a large bouquet of yellow, orange, and purple flowers in one hand and a round chocolate cake for two in the other. When Tweet pushed open the glass door, her eyes immediately locked on mine as a huge smile spread around her face. She was radiant and glowing. As she walked toward me, I could sense the pride she felt in herself. She had made it through another hurdle with her signature strength and grace.

  I moved in her direction, holding the flowers out to her. “Congratulations Tweet.”

  Taking the flowers, she said, “These are beautiful. Oh, and cake.”

  I leaned in and kissed her.

  “I’m so proud of you,” I whispered against her lips.

  She blew out a deep sigh. “Thank you, Noah… for everything. I’m proud of me too.”

  “How do you want to celebrate?”

  Her gaze swung from me to the cake, back to me, as a sexy mischievous smile crossed her lips.

  “Damn woman! Am I nothing more than a sex object to you?” I teased.

  “You know you love being my boy toy.”

  “Well, it is your special day.”

  Grabbing her by the hand, I led her to my truck, jumped in, and sped back to her place to celebrate in style before her sister got home.

  The summer was a crazy busy time for both of us. I was eager to graduate from College of Charleston and get started on medical school. I took summer classes just like I had all throughout high school to achieve my goal, along with working at the hospital, picking up as many hours as I possibly could. I wanted Tweet to be my wife sooner rather than later. Until I was able to provide for her completely, which included insurance to cover any medical bills, I knew this wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let me touch my inheritance for her. When we moved into our condo she insisted on contributing to the monthly expenses. I tried to talk her out of it, but she was stubborn and hardheaded, and I wouldn’t have her any other way.

  Tweet continued to amaze me with her strength. The effects of her last chemo treatment were mild compared to what she’d been through. As her energy increased and she felt good on a regular basis, she decided to send out a few query letters to local magazines for freelance writing jobs. She got hired for each assignment. And she was making plans to take a couple of core classes at C of C during the fall semester. Little by little, cancer was loosening its grip, letting the future back in.

  I was in the bathroom staring in the large mirror, my palms resting on the marble countertop. Tiny beads of sweat popped up on my forehead, and my stomach tossed every time I took a step toward the door.

  This was a bad idea.

  A loud pounding from the other side of the door ricocheted around the room, causing my body to jolt, leaving behind a prickling sensation across my skin.

  “Let’s get the show on the road,” her muffled voice commanded.

  Swallowing hard, I cleared my dry throat and said, “I’ll be right out.”

  I grabbed a washcloth and ran cold water over it. Pressing the wet cloth onto my face, I inhaled several deep breaths, trying to work up the nerve to do what I had come here to do.

  This was such a bad idea.

  I slid the washcloth down my face to reveal terror-filled eyes reflecting back at me in the mirror. Tossing the washcloth to the side, I rolled my shoulders a few times and tilted my head from side to side, hoping to release some of the tension that had a stronghold on my muscles. I glared one more time in the mirror, trying to locate my courage. I opened the door, my eyes focused on the floor. I stepped through the doorway and almost crashed into her.

  “Whoa!” she yelled.

  I glanced up. “Sorry.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I stammered, my gaze alternating between her and the floor.

  “Are you having issues?” Her voice laced with serious concern.

  “Issues? What do you mean?”

  Leaning toward me as if she were going to tell me a secret, she whispered loudly, “Bathroom issues?”

  I scrunched up my face in disgust. “No!”

  “I was just checking. You were in there a long time.”

  “Look, Lisa, I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Her hand came up and swatted my upper arm. “It’s a fucking fantastic idea. Besides, everything has already been scheduled. You can’t back out now.”

  Valentine’s Day was in a week. It was the first one Tweet and I were spending as an official couple. I felt the corners of my mouth curl up thinking about her and how great she was doing. My life was perfect with Tweet by my side. I was so nervous and indecisive about what to get her for the special day. I’d been giving her gifts forever, but I was the boyfriend now and that added a certain amount of pressure. Plus, I felt guilty. Between both of us taking classes during fall semester, my job at the hospital, and the holidays, things had not slowed down. Our time together was limited and then I found out last week that I had to work on Valentine’s Day. Tweet was understanding but I knew she was disappointed. Hell, I was disappointed.

  I thought it was a good idea to run my initial plans by Lisa. Even though she and Tweet were roommates in college for only one semester, they formed a close bond. I called Lisa and told her my idea. She didn’t even give me a chance to finish telling her before my plans got nixed and replaced with ones that she guaranteed would send me into the awesome boyfriend stratosphere. I liked Lisa a lot. She had been a great friend to Tweet, but she was nuts and I wasn’t completely onboard with her sure-fire idea. Lisa was getting her Masters in Communication at USC and since she had made a special tr
ip to Charleston to help, I felt obligated to follow through with whatever she had cooked up.

  “It’s just that… Tweet has never mentioned to me that she would like anything even remotely like this.”

  “Let me explain something to you, The Noah.”

  I chuckled a little hearing the nickname she had given me.

  “You called me because you wanted my help. My advice. You wanted to surprise Amanda with something unique and special. You didn’t want the clichéd flowers and candy crap. Am I right?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I said hesitantly.

  “You’re damn straight I’m right. I’m a woman and thus I know what women really want.”

  Rubbing the back of my neck nervously, I said, “I know, but this is so…”

  “So what? So perfect? So fantastic? So incredibly out-of-the-box that it will blow her mind?”

  “So weird.”

  “So weird, cray-cray awesome,” she said with excitement.

  “Okay, I’ll trust you on this, I guess.” She seemed really sure of the idea.

  Lisa clapped her hands, rubbing her palms together. “Alrighty, let’s get this monkey humpin’.”

  My eyebrows knitted together, baffled by her choice of words.

  “I still don’t understand why we had to meet here.”

  “I told you the studio is being remodeled and can’t be used,” she explained.

  “I know, but…”

  “Listen, you’re having a boudoir photo made. What better place to shoot it than a boudoir?”

  I cringed at the word “boudoir”. “Don’t call it that. It’s a picture. I’m having a picture made for Tweet.”

  Lisa had set up the entire photo shoot with a friend of hers. The photographer’s studio was in the middle of a remodel so the shoot was scheduled to take place in downtown Charleston at the John Rutledge House Bed and Breakfast. The room looked like something Tweet would like with pale yellow walls, hardwood floors, and fireplace with flowers on the mantle. A huge four-poster bed took up most of the space.

  Rolling her eyes, she huffed out, “Whatever. Now, is that what you’re wearing?”

  Lisa’s gaze ran up and down my body.

  “Um… yeah. What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  I had on navy Nike sweatpants, white Nike T-shirt, and retro air Jordans.

  “You look like Nike threw up on you. Take off your shirt.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You should take off your shirt for the picture, I mean,” she said.

  “The photographer isn’t even here yet.”

  “I know. I thought maybe you needed me to oil you up.” Lisa’s eyes appeared to glaze over while they zeroed in on my chest as I watched a large lump slide down her neck.

  I took a step back from her.

  “What? No, I’m not getting… no.”

  There was an awkward pause before she snapped out of her trance, cleared her throat, and said, “Well, if my services are no longer needed I guess I’ll head out.”

  “Um… I appreciate all your help with this, Lisa.”

  “Anything for Amanda. The photographer should be here soon.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And you’re sure about the oil?”

  “I’m positive about the oil.”

  “Just double checkin’,” she said.

  “Thanks.” I sent a slight smile in her direction.

  She patted my shoulder. “Good luck, The Noah.”

  Giving me one last smile, she walked out the door.

  Lisa had taken my mind off of my nerves for a few seconds but now that I was standing in the room alone they started to resurface in full force. I walked over to the large window and focused on the street below full of locals and tourists, hoping the distraction would calm me down. I could do this. This was for Tweet. I could and would endure anything for her. The click of the door startled me. Inhaling two extremely deep breaths I turned around to meet the photographer and get this over with as quick as possible.

  Everything happened all at once. I turned, saw a big camera, heard a female voice say, “Hey, Noah,” and a flash of bright light blinded me before I saw the person.

  “Shit,” I yelled, slapping my hands over my eyes as I stumbled backward.

  “Oh hell! I’m so sorry,” she said.

  “Tweet?” I asked, confused.

  Her fingers curled around my wrist, pulling my hands from my face. I opened my eyes to bursts of light. As I blinked, the spots disappeared and were replaced with the most beautiful girl in the world.

  My girl.

  With a sheepish look on her face, she dropped my hands, raised her arms up over her head, and yelled, “Surprise!”

  A huge smile appeared across my face. “What are you doing here?”

  “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

  Her sexy hips swayed in my direction as she moved in closer, looking up at me through her long dark lashes. My breathing picked up. She looked incredible in her worn jeans that slid over her curves perfectly and a light blue sweater. Her hair was down and fell right between her shoulder blades.

  God she was everything to me.

  “So this was all a setup?” I asked.

  Tilting up on her toes, she whispered against my lips, “Yes.”

  Her lips traveled across my jaw, causing me to release a deep sigh.

  “So there was never a photographer?” My hands moved to her hips and immediately disappeared under the bottom of her sweater.

  “No photographer.” Her voice was low and sexy as she continued nibbling down my neck.

  “This was all planned to surprise me?” My head dipped down, nuzzling her neck while my hands slid farther up her sweater.

  She sucked my earlobe between her lips while her hands moved up my stomach toward my chest. “All for you.”

  “No pictures?” Breathing into her ear, I placed soft kisses just below it.

  “Oh, there will be pictures.” We pulled away from each other’s necks and rested our foreheads together. “We have twenty-four hours of just the two of us. No family checking in, no friends stopping by, no studying, and no calls from work. Just you, me, that big bed, and room service.”

  “Gee you’re swell.” I grinned.

  I placed a soft kiss on her lips before standing up straight. Our eyes stayed locked. Tweet raised her arms above her head, allowing me to peel off her sweater. The bra she had on was pink with white hearts on it. My eyes landed on her chest, watching as her breathing picked up. I swallowed hard. My fingertips traced the outline of her bra. Starting at the strap, my hand slowly traveled down to the top of one breast, then across to the other, and then to the second strap. I stopped halfway up the strap and slid it off her shoulder, revealing the small scar she had just below her collarbone. The tips of my fingers ran gently over the scar. It was one of the permanent reminders of a terrifying time in our past. I glanced up into water-filled teal eyes.

  “No sadness today, Tweet,” I choked out.

  “No sadness,” she said, blinking back tears.

  I lowered my lips to hers and placed soft kisses over her mouth. Tweet whimpered breathlessly, causing me to deepen the kiss. My tongue connected with hers immediately. My hands slid down her body as hers traveled up mine. Her fingers worked their way into my hair. Grabbing her ass, I lifted her up, carried her to the bed, and laid her down. I took off my shoes, pants, and shirt in record time. Without any hesitation Tweet removed her prosthetic left leg and liner. Reaching toward the nightstand, she grabbed a couple of baby wipes from the container and a hand towel.

  Wow, Tweet had planned for our Valentine’s Day in bed.

  I loved how comfortable she was with me, no embarrassment or self-consciousness about her amputation.

  After she cleaned her stump, she kicked off her right shoe, and shimmied out of her jeans.

  Hot damn! The panties matched the bra.

  “Leave the bra and panties for me,” I told her, throwing a grin and a cocked eyebrow
her way.

  Tweet scooted to the middle of the bed. As she settled back, I settled between her legs. Propping myself up on my elbows, I gazed down. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her hair fanned out, and the tip of her tongue kept peeking out between her slightly parted lips.

  She brushed the hair away from my forehead, and let her fingertips trail down the side of my face. Her eyebrows knitted together as a deep breath escaped her.

  “You okay, Tweet?”

  “Yeah… Sometimes I get overwhelmed with how in love I am with you.”

  “Ditto.” I grinned.

  I teased her, nipping at her lips, her chin, along her jaw, and down her neck.

  Giggling, she said, “That tickles.”

  Tweet shifted to the side allowing me to move my hand behind her and unclasp her bra. My lips followed the path of the lace as it glided over her nipples. She slipped her arms through the bra straps and tossed it to the floor. Taking one nipple in my mouth, I sucked hard while massaging the other breast. Tweet’s fingers dug into my biceps.

  Pulling away, I gasped, “I can’t get enough of your body.”

  A low growl escaped her as I placed open-mouth kisses across her chest. I wrapped my lips around her other nipple. Her right leg rubbed up and down my ass, attempting to push down my boxers. I licked down her stomach to her hips. Tweet lifted up enough for me to slide her panties off. I jumped off the bed, causing the mattress and Tweet to bounce. The best laugh in the world came pouring out of her as I frantically stepped out of my boxers.

  “This bed is awfully chilly without you.” Her hand traveled down her body.

  That’s my girl.

  Pouncing on the bed, I wasted no time devouring her. My mouth moved down her body. I was about to nuzzle between her legs when it suddenly hit me.

  “Fuuuuuck,” I mumbled against her skin.

  “Oh god yes,” she moaned.

  “I can’t.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  I looked up to see her propped up on her elbows, glancing down at me. “I didn’t bring any condoms.”

  Even though Tweet was on the pill, we had decided it was better to be safe than sorry and doubled up on protection.

  “Front pocket of my jeans,” she said, dropping her head back on the bed. I rolled off of her and grabbed her jeans, finding the condom. “There’s an entire box in the suitcase.”