by Gina Azzi
Because we had sex.
And I really really like him.
A lot.
“Stop being so jittery. You look incredible,” Kristen says, sitting cross-legged on her bed. She glances over my outfit again. “Just touch up your lip gloss and you’re good to go.”
I sigh, turning to give myself the once-over in the mirror. I’m wearing a short blue halter dress. It flares out from the hips and falls in delicate waves to mid-thigh. The material is flowy, creating an ethereal, elegant look. Plus the color makes my eyes pop like whoa. (At least, that’s what Sam said). I pair the dress with casual nude flats and spin in front of the mirror. My hair is down and lightly curled, cascading nicely down my back and around my shoulders.
“I would cut my left arm off for your hair,” Kristen remarks, getting off her bed and picking up a perfume bottle from her desk. “Here.” She sprays my neck and the inside of my wrist. “Now he won’t be able to take his hands off you along with his eyes.”
I laugh, rubbing my wrists together and pressing them behind my ears to spread the scent.
A soft knock at the door causes us both to jump.
I scrunch my eyebrows at Kristen, but she shrugs her shoulders. “Sam?” she guesses.
I pull the door wide open and my heart freezes in my throat.
Cade.
Standing at my bedroom door.
Looking incredible in dark jeans, a form-fitting gray button-down with the top buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up on his forearms, and a pair of brown loafers.
With a bouquet of lilies tied with a purple ribbon.
And a smile that could melt the stoniest of hearts.
Smitten freaking kitten.
“Hey,” he says softly.
Somehow, I manage to pick my jaw up off the floor, wipe the drool from my chin, and remind my heart to start beating again. He is so sexy, yet everything he does seems so effortless that I’m in awe of him.
“Hi.” My voice sounds uneasy.
“These are for you.” He holds out the flowers. “You look beautiful.” He leans forward and brushes a kiss against my lips softly.
“Thank you.” I smile shyly, taking the flowers and turning.
“I’ll take those and put them in a vase for you. You guys enjoy your dinner. Hi, Cade,” Kristen says, coming to the rescue. God she’s a lifesaver.
“Okay, thanks. See you later,” I tell her.
Her smile is so big I’m scared her cheeks will crack.
“So hot,” she whispers to me.
“I know, right?”
Cade chuckles, obviously overhearing us.
“Let’s go,” I say, placing my hand in his. “I’m excited to see what you’ve got planned for tonight.”
“I think you’ll be surprised.”
“I love surprises.”
“I thought you might.” He squeezes my hand gently as we walk to the parking lot.
* * *
Yeah, definitely surprised.
He made me a picnic!
Not just any picnic, but a full-blown, after-dinner-we’re-sipping-chilled-champagne-and-eating-chocolate-éclairs picnic.
Swoon!
Cade and I are resting on a blanket in the middle of a park that I imagine is beautiful during the day but is absolutely breathtaking at dusk. The first stars of the evening are winking down at us, twinkling gently. The fragrance of wild flowers is heavy in the air and the sky is paused in between blue and purple, the purple gradually deepening as the blue slowly recedes. It’s like a sliver of perfection in an ordinary day. An extraordinary, special moment in a sequence of normal.
Cade leans forward, propping himself up on one elbow. I’m sitting on the blanket, his body curling around me. “Here.” He places a bite of éclair near my lips.
I take the bite. “Mmm, this is incredible.”
Cade leans closer, brushing his nose against my neck. “You smell incredible.”
I laugh nervously. I’m sure I’m blushing.
Cade looks up and smiles at me. His face is only inches from mine, his lips beckoning me closer. I dip my head and kiss him. He tastes like decadent chocolate and the final days of summer.
Cade shifts closer, sitting up and wrapping an arm around my back. I lean into his embrace, tracing his lips with my tongue until he gives me access to deepen our kiss. Within moments, his fingers are lost in my hair, my palms are dragging against the roughness of his jaw. He lays me down slowly, hovering over me, careful to keep his weight balanced on his forearms. He kisses my nose lightly and I giggle.
“Ever do it outside?” His eyes gleam playfully.
“Not much of an exhibitionist.”
“Ah. Well, there’s a first time for everything.” He bites down on my lip.
I squeal. Quickly, I look around. We’re alone. I don’t see anyone else having a picnic in the park. But still, someone could come at any moment. Cade’s mouth is working my cleavage, his hands expertly untying my halter.
Oh jeez, Lila, live a little. Remember, pushing past your comfort zone? That was your idea!
When Cade bites down on my shoulder gently, I’m brought back to the moment, fully engaged in the present, aware of his accelerating breaths and the rapid beat of his heart. My own heart is galloping, partly from the things Cade is doing to my body, partly from the fear of getting caught, the thrill, the excitement, the what-if?
Cade pushes my dress up around my hips and captures my lips with his own. He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting mine, asking permission. The serious expression on his face makes me fall just a little bit faster, harder, deeper.
I nod, a slow smile forming on my lips.
He grins back and pulls a condom from his pocket. Once he’s ready, he pushes into me. He rocks slowly, gradually picking up the pace. I arch into his touch, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. His dog tags press into my breastbone and his breathing is ragged in my ear. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, my mind swirling in the overwhelming sensations Cade presses and kisses into my skin. When I release, he follows me and we crash down, our fingers laced together, our palms pressed as one, our hearts beating in sync, underneath a blanket of stars on a stretch of wildflowers.
Chapter Fifteen
Cade
Today we have a home game against Stanford. I can’t wait to see Lila wearing my number, flashing a small ten on her cheek, decked out in Mardi Gras beads.
The team is in high spirits and everyone feels prepared for the game, ready to take the win. I inhale the fresh scent of grass. My mind is rapidly running through plays as we take the field. The fans are cheering wildly, the stadium a sea of plum and gold.
I shield my eyes and look in the general vicinity of where Lila is sitting but know that it’s impossible to spot her among the thousands of people. Still, just knowing that she’s here, cheering me on, watching my game, brings a smile to my face.
At kickoff, my head is in the game. I reach for Jared’s dog tags but remember that I left them in my locker. I turn my attention to the ball and give myself completely, body and mind, to the game. Victory is ours!
At the end of the first quarter, we’re up 13-7. Still, it’s early in the game and the score is too close. We need to really make moves during the next fifteen minutes to give ourselves a solid lead before the half.
Johnson throws a clean pass straight to me three minutes into the second quarter and I take off running. My blood is pounding in my ears as I cross the thirty-yard line. I can hear the heavy breaths of a Stanford linebacker closing in on me, and I will my body to move faster. Twinges of pain are radiating throughout my right knee, shooting down into my shin. I ignore the pain.
Stay hungry. Stay focused.
When a body slams into me from the back right, I don’t see it coming. I clutch the ball into my abdomen as I roll forwards. Protect the ball at all costs. Don’t give up the yards. Don’t give up the advance.
A searing pain like fire and knives shoots through my knee, fragmenting throughout my
leg, and I crumble, curling around the ball, the weight of heavy bodies landing on top of me. I cry out, the grass sneaking past my helmet into my mouth. I inhale dirt and grass. My leg twitches, my knee throbs, the blood pounds louder in my ears. Bits of gravel dig into my skin, stinging my palms, which should be pushing me up now but lie pressed against the ground, useless. My breathing is muffled, warm breath captured between the grass, my helmet, myself.
Far away, I hear a whistle, followed by a hush, a silence so penetrating I feel it in my bones.
I don’t move.
“Wilkins?” Miers is on his knees next to my helmet. “Dude, can you hear me?”
Yes. I can hear you.
Words don’t come out.
“Get the trainer. Now!”
Trainer Rob is already here, easing my position, asking questions.
In my peripheral vision, I see the fans on their feet. Their mouths in a shocked “O” like the Scream masks Jared and I wore for Halloween once. The silence grows louder.
It’s deafening.
“Wilkins?”
“Cade?”
“Man, you okay?”
Nothing. I feel nothing but the suffocating weight of overwhelming pain.
And then, the plum and gold shimmer fades into weightless black.
The blood pounds.
My body falls slack.
The silence consumes.
* * *
When I come to, a blinding light sears my eyes and I wince, the movement causing my body to feel like it’s burning.
“Cade, take a deep breath and try to relax. You’re at Henry Harper Medical Center. You were injured during the football game. We’re doing everything we can to ease your pain,” a voice says close to my ear.
The pain. Please stop the fire. My leg is burning.
The lights start to flash in and out and black spots invade my line of vision.
Nothingness.
* * *
The room is quiet when my eyelids flutter open. My limbs feel like they are simultaneously floating and numb. Shadows flicker across the wall. I close my eyes and picture a beautiful girl with blond hair and blue eyes. She’s smiling at me, her lips curling up at the corners. She winks playfully and I smile, my back settling deeper into the pillows. The shadows grow shorter. I can hear my own breathing. A quiet beeping sound breaks the silence of the room every few moments. The blond girl reaches out to me and I try to hold her hand but my arm doesn’t budge. I look down, trying to take a step toward her, but my legs don’t respond. The room grows darker, quieter, emptier.
I’m out again.
Chapter Sixteen
Lila
Silence falls over the crowd in one giant wave. Fans stop talking, their bodies still. No one fidgets, no one moves. The entire audience is on edge, a taunt bundle of nerves connecting over seventy thousand people as we wait, thinking, praying, hoping.
Number ten doesn’t move.
Number ten is Cade.
He lies facedown around the twenty-yard line. His body seems lifeless, his arms still wrapped tightly around the football, his legs splayed wide. One leg is bent at the knee. His football helmet conceals his face from view as his teammates and Coach huddle around him, asking questions, shouting demands.
Moments pass slowly. Stanford takes a knee. The cheerleaders stand in shock, their pom-poms clutched tightly in front of their bodies.
A stretcher appears. Cade’s helmet is worked off his head. His body is placed onto the stretcher in slow, careful movements. Then he is carried off the field to the confused applause by the fans.
It’s not relief.
Cade hasn’t moved.
He hasn’t looked up.
He hasn’t responded at all.
“Where are they taking him?” I ask Sam, in a hushed whisper. My fingers are clenching and unclenching tightly. The paralysis I felt when Cade went down is slowly receding, and I feel the sudden urge to do something, anything, to help him.
I need to see him.
“Henry Harper. Or the University hospital.” Sam’s hand feels warm in mine.
“I have to go.”
He shakes his head. “They’ll never let you in. You aren’t family.”
“Then I’ll wait.”
It’s irrational, right? I mean, I’ve been dating Cade for mere weeks. Hospitals never consider the girlfriends as family, they barely factor in fiancés and we are a long way from that. He has tons of friends and teammates who will be so concerned, so worried about him. People who will be there by his side.
But he said he would see me after the game. That he couldn’t wait to see me wearing his number. Maybe he needs to see me just as much as I need to see him in this moment.
“I’ll go with you,” Kristen offers, her arm wrapping around my waist gently. “Come on, let’s get out of here before halftime. We’ll wait together.”
Sam nods. “Okay. Call me if you guys need anything.”
I nod. “Sure. We’ll see you later.”
I let Kristen guide me through the crowd, down the bleachers. I hear the game in the background, know the teams are still playing, but all I can focus on is Cade.
Gray eyes and an easy smile.
Not moving.
Number ten.
* * *
After four hours of waiting, I send Kristen home. She’s been amazing and offered to keep waiting with me, but I insisted. She’s gone to meet Sam and the two of them will check in with me later.
I’m sitting in a plain cream room lined with hospital chairs. A blue ribbon is painted along the walls. My nails make tiny indents in the armrest while my knee bounces up and down to an oppressive silence. A lukewarm cup of coffee from a vending machine sits on the table next to me, along with a magazine Kristen snagged from somewhere.
The team arrived immediately following the game. They were ushered to a private room, given updates by their Coach, kept in the loop. No one noticed me.
I’m alone again.
I don’t even know who won the game.
“Miss? Can I help you?” A nurse calls over to me from reception.
I stand up, startled that someone has even seen me. “I’m just waiting for news about Cade Wilkins.”
She smiles politely. “That information is only available to family at this time. What’s your name?”
“I’m Lila Avers—”
“Lila, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Miers saunters over, slinging an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. He smiles down at me, his blue eyes shining with sincerity. “We’re down the hall.” He turns toward the nurse, dazzling her with a smile. “Thanks for finding her for me.”
“Oh, sure, no problem,” the nurse stammers.
Miers starts to walk down the hall, pulling me along with him.
After a few steps, he smiles down at me again. “How long have you been waiting?” He tugs on my hair, releasing me from his grasp. His eyes focus on my face, studying me. “You okay, Lila?”
“Um, I don’t know. How is he? I just need to know he’s okay.” My voice sounds hoarse.
Miers’s eyes soften and he squeezes my shoulder gently. “He’s hanging in there. He’s in a lot of pain, but the damage to his knee doesn’t seem to be structural. The doctors are running a bunch of tests. He may have a slight concussion. And a stress fracture in his tibia. Nothing serious,” he assures as I feel the blood drain from my face. “He’s going to be fine.” He dips down, leveling his gaze with mine. “Really.”
I release the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. My body sways as relief floods through me. Cade is fine. He’s going to be okay.
“You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?” Miers comments.
“Can I see him?”
Miers laughs. “Yeah, I think that’s one way to cheer him up. Come on.”
I follow Miers down the hall and nearly run into him when he suddenly stops outside one of the rooms. He nods his head toward the door. “I’ll
be the lookout for any mean nurses.”
I giggle unexpectedly. My nerves are suddenly alert at the prospect of seeing Cade. How will he react? Will he be happy to see me? Will he be embarrassed? Not want me here? Ask me to leave? “Okay, thanks.”
I rap my knuckles against the door lightly before pushing it open. I play with the bangle on my wrist, turning it over and over absentmindedly. I stare at Cade. Strong, muscular, chiseled Cade lying against the crisp white sheets of a hospital bed.
“Lila.” He’s surprised.
I jump, startled that he’s awake. “Hey.” I wave my hand.
He smiles at me, his gray eyes warming. “Come on in.” He gestures to the seat next to his bed.
I walk over hesitantly and perch on the end of the chair.
“What are you doing here?”
“You said you wanted to see me in your number.” I point to the number ten on my jersey.
Cade laughs loudly, a chuckle rumbling low in his chest. He reaches out and grasps my hand in his, his fingers pressing warmth, reassurance, and comfort into mine. “I’m glad you’re here.”
I smile at him. “Me too.”
October
Chapter Seventeen
Cade
I’ve been in the hospital for two days. Two long days. I have a stress fracture in my tibia. I figured once that was discovered, I would be casted and discharged. My dreams of making the NFL draft effectively going down the toilet.
Instead, my leg is splinted and the doctors are still running all sorts of tests. Now, the concern has shifted. It isn’t just about a physical injury to my knee or leg anymore but something deeper, darker.
Cancer.
No one has said it yet. Not out loud. But I’m pretty sure everyone is thinking it.
Mamma called last night in tears. She wanted to fly out to be with me, take care of me. I told her its just structural and the doctors are working on a plan to get me back on the field. It would break her heart, shatter her soul, to know that I may have cancer. So I’m not going to say anything until someone else does.