Presently Perfect (Perfect #3)

by Alison G. Bailey

  “Suitcase?” I asked while dropping my boxers.

  “I packed a suitcase. It’s in the closet. Noah, I’m so not in the mood to talk luggage right now.”

  I rolled on the condom and got back to business. Positioning myself between her thighs, I rocked into her. Our eyes locked. Sweat coated our skin. Tweet’s arms and legs gripped my body as my movements sped up. Moans and a squeaky bed filled the air. A wave of convulsions took over our bodies as the throbbing inside of her intensified and we came together.

  The next morning I got up early and left to pick up my original Valentine gift for Tweet. When I returned she was still sound asleep, lying on her side, her hair fanned out over the pillow. To say last night was incredible would be an understatement. We spent the time making love, sleeping, and eating. Repeatedly. She had given me the best Valentine gift I could have asked for. Her. Us.

  I placed her gift on the nightstand and crawled into bed beside her. I nuzzled the crook of her neck and whispered, “Wake up, sexy.”

  Her eyes stayed closed but a huge grin appeared across her beautiful face. “Mmm… mornin’. Let me sleep a little longer. You gave me quite a workout last night.”

  I chuckled. “I have your gift.”

  Tweet’s eyes shot open and her head popped off of the pillow. She scanned the room before her gaze found me.

  “You got me a gift?” Excitement was in her expression and tone.

  “Of course I got you a gift. I’m the boyfriend now.”

  She leaned toward me and kissed the corner of my mouth. “Yes you are and a mighty fine one at that.”

  “Hmmm… minty fresh.” I looked at her, confused.

  “I may have gotten up before you got back and brushed my teeth,” she confessed.

  “And here I thought you didn’t even notice I was gone.”

  “You know I can’t sleep when your sexy arms aren’t wrapped around me.”

  We stared at each other for a few seconds, both knowing what the other was thinking. Tweet and I didn’t need words to communicate. We never did.

  “When is checkout?” I asked, glancing from her eyes to her mouth.

  I wanted her so badly right then. Who was I kidding, I always wanted her.

  “In an hour,” she said.

  “If I do to you what I want, then I don’t think there’ll be time for your gift before we have to leave. I want to go slow and long.”

  “Yeah, slow and long,” she said dreamily.

  Clearing my throat, I broke our trance. “Gift time.”

  Tweet sat up straight in bed, letting the sheet fall to her waist. She was wearing one of my T-shirts she had packed. I grabbed her gift and sat back down facing her.

  Her eyes grew to the size of saucers when she saw the huge arrangement of red roses in the crystal vase. “Oh Noah, they’re gorgeous. I love them. I love you. Thank you.”

  Resting the vase on the bed, I held it between us. She buried her nose in the flowers and inhaled deeply.

  As she pulled back she had a curious look on her face. “The flowers have tiny scraps of paper pinned to them. What are they?”

  “Take one and read it,” I instructed.

  She plucked the paper from one of the stems. Her face lit up when she read what was written down. “It’s our birthday.”

  Smiling at me over the flowers, she picked up another piece of paper. “This is the date of our first Lifehouse concert.”

  Her eyes glistened as recognition hit them. “These are all special dates to us.”

  “Yeah,” I said in a low voice.

  She grabbed another piece of paper. “This one is the date of our first kiss, freshman year in high school.”

  “The greatest first kiss in the history of first kisses, baby.”

  Tears trickled down her cheeks. She reached in for another scrap of paper. She read the date and confusion crossed her face. She sat in silence for several seconds trying to remember the significance of that date.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t remember what happened on this date. We were twelve years old.”

  She turned the paper in my direction. I didn’t need to read the date. I already knew which one it was.

  Never taking my eyes off of her, I said, “It’s the date I stopped loving you and fell in love with you.”

  Tweet placed the vase on the nightstand. She launched herself into my arms, knocking me backward onto the bed, and showered my face with kisses. Wrapping my arms tightly around her, I did a full-blown belly laugh.

  “You are the most wonderful, most thoughtful, sweetest man in the entire world.”

  “Happy Valentine’s Day, Tweet.” I smiled up at her.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day, Noah.” She smiled down at me.

  My hands slid up her naked thighs, up under her T-shirt, landing on her hips. She rocked back and forth. Her hands were planted on either side of my head. Leaning down she sucked on my bottom lip before her tongue slid into my mouth. The kiss was deep and slow.

  After several seconds Tweet pulled away slightly. “This is the best first Valentine’s Day in the history of Valentine’s Days.”

  “Yeah. You know if we keep going, we’re going to be late for checkout.”

  “Screw checkout. I’ll pay for another night.”

  That’s my girl.

  Tweet had my hand in a vice grip while I stood next to her sitting on the exam table. We hadn’t said much to each other since entering the room, only exchanging nervous glances every few minutes. Each time the sound of a muffled voice on the other side of the closed door passed by, Tweet’s back stiffened. We had been coming to these doctor visits for a year, ever since she completed her chemo. At first it was once a month and then transitioned to every three months. By now we were old pros at the routine, but that didn’t lessen the fact that each visit sent our nerves into high alert mode.

  A loud knock hammered against the door, echoing through the room. Tweet flinched while my gaze shot up in the direction of the noise. As the doorknob twisted, I felt her pulse quicken underneath my hand. We both drew in a deep breath before the door opened. Dr. Lang’s gaze was down, reading the folder he carried as he walked in, followed by his nurse. I squeezed Tweet’s hand one more time before letting go and then wiped my sweaty palms off on my jeans.

  Looking up from the folder, Dr. Lang greeted us. “Amanda… Noah.”

  Tweet gave only a weak smile in response.

  “Hey Dr. Lang. How are you?”

  Handing the folder off to his nurse, Dr. Lang walked back toward the door. Giving the Purell dispenser two pumps, he squirted some into his palm.

  “I’m doing just fine,” he said, turning back toward us as he rubbed the sanitizer into his skin. He then turned his attention to Tweet. “How are you feeling, Amanda?”

  “Good.” Tweet gave short clipped answers when she was on edge.

  “Glad to hear it. Why don’t you lie back and straighten your legs for me.”

  Tweet always stayed sitting up, waiting until the last minute to get into position for the exam. She hated being stretched out on her back on the table. She said it made her feel too exposed and vulnerable. The doctor would only be examining her legs, so Tweet was allowed to keep everything on except her pants. The lower half of her body was covered with a sheet. She scooted to the middle of the table before timidly settling back. Picking up her trembling hand, I laced my fingers through hers, as I turned my back to the doctor and focused only on Tweet.

  I didn’t need to watch the exam to know the sequence. With each blink and shift in gaze, Tweet told me what the doctor was doing. She blinked, eyes opening wide as her eyebrows crept up into her forehead, with the initial contact of cold hands on her skin. Her brows knitted together and her eyes glazed over as he placed his thumbs on the lower thigh of her amputated leg, his other fingers slipping behind her knee. The glaze washed away, replaced by water filling to the edges of her eyes. Dr. Lang applied pressure, squeezing hard against the bend of her knee, checking for any i
ndication that the cancer had taken up residence in the lymph nodes. Tweet’s eyes closed tight as he moved up to her groin and pushed deep against the area.

  When her forehead unwrinkled, I knew the exam was over.

  “Amanda, your blood work looks great and I don’t feel any abnormalities around the lymph nodes.”

  Tweet’s free hand flew up to her mouth, muffling a happy sob. In an instant, the tension left her body. As she sat up, her arms wrapped around my neck at the same time mine curled around her waist.

  Tweet and I broke the hug at the sound of Dr. Lang’s voice.

  “I know these exams are nerve wracking. How about we do away with some of them. Let’s say we go to one every six months,” he said.

  Tweet finally let out the deep breath she had inhaled when the doctor first walked in the room.

  She glanced up at my grinning face and then her gaze bounced to Dr. Lang. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Yeah, let’s do that.” Her face collapsed in relief.

  “Keep up the good work. If you have any trouble, call me, otherwise, we will see you back in six months.”

  Smiling, Dr. Lang patted the side of Tweet’s leg and shook my hand before walking out of the room with his nurse.

  Turning to Tweet, I raised my arms high and said, “Six months, Baby!”

  Slapping her palms against mine in a double high-five, Tweet gave me a huge teeth-bearing smile. “Six months!!”

  The year that followed was extremely stressful and exhausting for me. Some days, I wanted to give it all up, drop out of school, find a nine-to-five job, and live with my girl. Then I’d look at Tweet and knew why I was busting my ass. I wanted to take care of her to the best of my abilities and give her a great life. I was trying to build our future as quickly as possible. From the time I could remember I always wanted to be either a baseball player or a doctor. I was a good ballplayer, just not good enough to make a viable career out of it.

  I’m not sure how I did it, but I earned my undergraduate degree in three years instead of four, heading straight into medical school during the summer session. My days were spent in classes, lab practicums, studying, or working at the hospital, which left me very little time for anything else, including Tweet. I did manage to get the night off in order to celebrate the second anniversary of her being cancer free, surprising her with a candlelight dinner cruise around Charleston Harbor. But most days I left early in the morning before she was awake and got home late at night after she had fallen asleep.

  “Hey, what time did you get home?” Tweet said groggily.

  I was sitting at the desk in the second bedroom that we converted into our home office. I twisted in the chair, to find Tweet standing in the doorway wearing my gray T-shirt, her hair down and messy. The sight made me smile.

  My hands raked down my face as I yawned. “Not too long ago.”

  “Noah, its 3 am. Why are you still up?”

  “I have a chemistry exam tomorrow and wanted to get a little more studying in.”

  With the help of her crutches, she walked toward me. Tweet kept the crutches handy at night after going to bed. She didn’t want to go to the trouble of putting her prosthetic leg on in case she just had to go to the bathroom. I held on to her hips as she propped the crutches against the side of the desk. She placed her hands on my shoulders, steadying herself as I helped her into my lap. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other resting across her thighs.

  “You feel so good, Tweet.”

  “I miss you,” she whispered in my ear, her fingers combing through my hair.

  Tightening my arm around her, I inhaled a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “I miss you too.”

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t be.” I nuzzled deeper into her neck. The scent of raspberry and vanilla relaxing me.

  “I barely see you. You’re working too hard. Why don’t you cut back on your hours at the hospital? They’d understand.”

  “Working there is a good networking opportunity. Knowing the staff and the way the place works will give me an advantage in class and in getting picked for my residency when the time comes.”

  “I know, but…”

  I lifted my head, looking her in the eye. “But nothing. I told you I’d handle our future and that’s what I’m doing.”

  She placed a soft kiss on my lips before resting her forehead on mine. “I know, but you’re missing a lot of our present.”

  “It’s hard right now getting used to the course load. Medical school is more demanding. I’m trying to find a good balance.”

  “I know you are. I just don’t want you to kill yourself in the process.”

  “Things will slow down soon. I promise.”

  I lied. As the months went on things didn’t slow down, they got even worse. Medical school was like having two more full-time jobs in addition to the actual one I had. I saw Tweet less than before, if that were even possible. With my class and work schedule being the way they were, some nights I ended up sleeping at the hospital. The night nurses and doctors gave me special treatment since I’d been working there for a while, allowing me to crash in the resident’s lounge. Tweet continued to take freelance writing jobs while she got more core classes out of the way. None of the local colleges offered a degree in journalism, so she researched universities that offered the degree online. Our lives were full, so I was confused when a hollow emptiness invaded my chest on a daily basis. Something was missing and it scared the shit out of me.

  “My brain is fried,” Dan said, stretching his arms above his head.

  The five members of my study group had just spent the last three hours discussing the structure and composition of DNA. Our brains and the library were shutting down, so we were calling it a night. We worked well together, each of us having different strengths that formed a well-rounded group.

  Dan was good at organizing notes. Jennifer thrived at research. I was the best problem solver. Alex was good for a laugh, there’s always one in the bunch. Angela, who had been the only member I knew from C of C, basically excelled at all of the above, except being good for a laugh. She was funny, just not on purpose. She and I had become friends, having a lot of the same classes during our undergrad work. Angela also managed to graduate in three years. Our time together had always been spent strictly at school or in the study group. Other than her academics, I didn’t know anything about her.

  “Yep, I’m done as well,” Jennifer chimed in.

  As we packed up our textbooks, charts, and notes, Alex asked, “It’s still pretty early. How about we head over to Tommy Condon’s for a beer and a bite to eat?”

  “I’m game.” Dan pushed away from the table.

  Jennifer grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. “Count me in. I’m starving.”

  “Me too,” Angela said.

  “I gotta take a pass,” I told them, shoving my books in my backpack.

  “Come on Stewart, just one beer,” Alex pushed.

  “Maybe next time.”

  “Your loss. Alex and I are charming as hell once you’ve had a few beers,” Dan joked.

  Putting her hair into a ponytail, Jennifer asked, “Angela, are you coming?”

  “Y’all go ahead. I’ll be there in a little bit.”

  The three turned and walked away, leaving Angela and I alone at the table. The feel of a warm hand on my forearm brought my gaze down to Angela’s thumb, gliding back and forth over my skin. We were friends but not that friendly. She had always been a little awkward around me, so this was a new uncomfortable development. I shifted away, her hand dropping from my arm onto the table.

  “I’m going to be heading out. You outta go catch up with the others,” I said.

  “I’d rather stay here and catch up with you.”

  “I’m going home. There, you’re all caught up.”

  Chuckling, she leaned in closer. “You seem stressed.”

 
; “Busy with work and school is all.”

  “Noah, we’ve known each other for quite a while now. Six semesters to be exact.” She tilted her head to the side. “I really like you too.”

  “Too? Um… Angela.”

  “Would you like to go to dinner or lunch… brunch… a snack? Any meal you want.”

  “You do realize I have a girlfriend?”

  “Is that still going on?”

  “Yeah.” I couldn’t stop my eye roll.

  Her face turned beet red the split second before her hands slapped over her cheeks. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! I didn’t… I thought you… I mean, you’re always so nice to me and sit next to me in class. And tonight you kept smiling at me during the study group.”

  “I was smiling because Alex was being a dumbass.”

  “I thought you were flirting with me.”

  “Because I smiled?”

  “Well, it’s a pretty terrific smile, Noah!” Her voice increased in volume and pitch with each word.

  A chorus of shh’s broke out around us.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression.”

  “Nooo, it’s not you. It’s me. I should have known someone like you wouldn’t be available. All I do is work, go to school, and study. I keep telling myself that once I have my career established then I can focus on my personal life. I have my head so far in the future that I’m lonely in my present.” With her arms folded on the table, her face took a nosedive and hid.

  “You’ll find someone special one day.”

  Angela and I had more in common than I thought. The only difference was, I already had that one special person in my life. Being so focused on our future, I was missing her and missing out. I should have realized that was the emptiness I’d been feeling. After walking Angela down the street to join the others at the restaurant, I headed home.

  Walking in our room, I found Tweet already in bed, reading.

  Her gaze lifted, a smile crossing her lips when she saw me standing in the doorway.