by Rye Hart
It was frustrating, but I was determined to find out the truth. It was her day off from the PT building, so I decided to take her out for the night. I called her, excitement brewing inside my chest. Just the prospect of seeing her was enough to bring a smile to my face.
“Hey,” I said when she finally answered. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing,” she said. Her voice was weak. “No plans yet.”
“Let’s go out,” I said. “I’m going stir crazy being locked up in my apartment like this.”
Tara laughed, and I felt my chest swell. “Stephanie’s bar?” she asked. “Eight o’clock.”
“Sounds great,” I said. “You drive.”
“No shit.” She laughed again, and the sound sent waves of desire shooting through my body. God, I wanted her.
That night couldn’t have arrived fast enough. When Tara finally pulled up outside my apartment, I was already waiting outside. She grinned when she saw me. I hurried toward her, using my crutches. I climbed into the passenger seat, and she leaned over to kiss me. The kiss lasted longer than I expected. She lingered on my lips, lighting tracing my tongue with hers. It was a kiss of longing, full of undefined emotion.
When we pulled apart, I felt my cock grow in my pants. I was excited to spend the evening out, but I would have been just as happy to stay in and explore Tara’s sexy body some more.
“Maybe we should skip going out,” I began, but Tara shot me a look.
“Behave,” she said.
“Fuck that,” I said. “Misbehaving is so much more fun.”
She laughed, and I grinned at the sound. Her laugh was beautiful and sexy at the same time. It brought a smile to my face and made my cock twitch with desire.
We drove into downtown and parked down the street from Stephanie’s bar. Tara led the way. We stepped inside, and Stephanie squealed. She ran around the bar to embrace Tara. When she turned to me, she looked me up and down with a stern look on her face.
“You,” she said.
“Nice to see you too, Stephanie,” she said.
“I still don’t like you, and I’m not sure I trust you,” Stephanie said. “But if you’re drinking, I’m pouring.”
“Bourbon,” I said.
“Red wine,” Tara said.
Stephanie nodded and went back around the bar. She poured our drinks and slid them over to us. I paid, and Tara led the way to a booth in the back corner. It was far enough removed from everything that we could talk. I was glad, still determined to find out what was going with Tara.
“She still wants me,” I joked, jerking my head toward Stephanie.
“She would kill you if she could get away it,” Tara said without hesitation.
I laughed, and Tara joined in, but she quickly fell silent. I tried to pull her into conversation a few more times, but her attention never stayed on me for long. She was trying, I could tell, but something was still weighing on her mind. No matter how much I tried to make her happy, she stayed standoffish and distant.
She smiled and laughed, but it never reached her eyes. She let me hold her hand and even kiss her a few times, but she never initiated anything. By the time the evening was over, I was incredibly worried. Whatever was keeping her from enjoying herself must be fucking terrible. She could barely meet my eyes, and when she did, her own were glazed over.
We said goodbye to Stephanie and got in Tara’s car. She was silent the entire drive back to my apartment. She parked and turned to face me, an apologetic look on her face.
“I think I should head home,” she said.
“No,” I said firmly.
“No?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on,” I said. “Come on, Tara, this is getting ridiculous. Just talk to me.”
She sighed and shook her head. I could tell she wanted to let me in, but she didn’t know how. When she locked eyes with me, a sense of dread filled my stomach. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the truth.
“Listen,” she said. “Things are insane right now. My clinical rotation is kicking my ass. I just had a patient lose his leg after months of PT. I was so hopeful for his recovery, and then, he just deteriorated. Everything went to shit. I’m stressed out, Caleb. I’m stressed as hell, and it’s killing me.”
“That’s it?” I asked. “It’s just stress?”
“I haven’t been feeling well,” she said slowly.
“From the stress?” I asked.
Her eyes found mine, and she paused. I could see the wheels turning in her mind.
“Yeah,” she said with a small smile. “It’s just the stress.”
“In that case,” I said, grinning. “I know the perfect way to relieve that?”
“Oh yeah?” she asked playfully. “How’s that?”
“Come inside,” I said. “I’ll show you.”
Tara grinned even wider and let me lead her inside. I was still on my crutches, but I barely needed them. When we stepped through the front door, I threw them to the ground and turned to grab Tara around the waist. We kissed long and slow. I could feel the tension in her body melt away.
When I slid down to my knees, reaching under her dress to remove her panties, she gasped and moaned. I stayed down there with my lips pressed against her pussy while she writhed against my living room wall. I licked her clit relentlessly, reveling in the sound of her moans and lapping up her sweet taste.
If nothing else, I knew this would ease her stress. I shoved two fingers deep inside her pussy, rocking them back and forth while I continued to suck on her clit. She came hard, slamming her head against the wall and screaming out my name.
I slowly got to my feet while she reached out to me. We kissed frantically, both desperate to get to the bedroom. I fucked her slowly that night, taking my time to make sure she enjoyed herself. I wanted to watch all her stress melt away. I wanted her to be so full of pleasure that she didn’t have room for anything else. I wanted to know that, when I was done with her, she was satisfied and exhausted.
My hips rocked against hers in a slow rhythm while I kissed her lips. She’d come once already and was shaking beneath me. I pulled away just enough to stare into her eyes. They were wide pleasure while I took her gently. My thrusts were deep, slow, and meaningful. She stared at me while another orgasm rocked through her body. Her pussy clenched around mine, and I couldn’t hold myself back for another second.
I shot forward and buried myself in her. She cried out and moaned, panting and clinging to me. I watched her fall asleep that night, a peaceful expression finally on her face. For the first time in days, she seemed like Tara again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - TARA
My alarm went off early the next morning. I groaned and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. Caleb stirred beside me but didn’t wake until I clicked the side of my phone, stopping the alarm and leaving us in the middle of an early morning silence.
I sighed and rolled onto my back. I looked over at Caleb who was groaning. He shifted uncomfortably and rubbed his face. His eyes flickered open and found mine, overwhelming me with their green depths.
I grinned as he slowly adjusted to consciousness. He smiled back and leaned forward to kiss me.
“Good morning,” he said when we pulled apart.
“Good morning,” I said. “I’m sorry my alarm woke you.”
“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “Had to wake up sometime. Are you working this morning?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I have a session in an hour.”
“Fuck that,” Caleb said, laughing. “Blow it off.”
“I can’t blow it off,” I said. I rolled my eyes and pushed myself out of bed. “Imagine if I did that to you, for your session tonight.”
“I don’t have to imagine,” he said, his voice dripping with a cocky confidence. “You’d never blow me off.”
“I wouldn’t?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Well,” He grinned. “At least not my PT sessions.”
“Not a chance,” I said. “I have to get ready.”
“You’re no fun.” He pouted as I ignored him and hurried into the bathroom.
It wasn’t easy to leave Caleb’s bed. He looked especially sexy in the morning. His hair was all over the place, and his eyes still held the shadow of his dreams. It was damn near impossible to pull myself away from him and get ready for my day.
Still, I knew I couldn’t shirk my responsibilities. My job was important and without it, I would lose all my health benefits as well as my opportunity to realize my full dream of being a licensed PT. After my diagnosis, that was something I couldn’t risk. As I brushed my teeth, staring at myself in the mirror, the reality of my situation sunk in all over again.
I spat out the toothpaste and rinsed my mouth, trying not to let fear overwhelm me. Spending last night with Caleb was exactly what I needed. I had finally put my worries aside and just relaxed. He took control and forced me to think about something other than my illness. It wasn’t easy at first. While we were at the bar, I kept glancing at Stephanie, wondering how the hell I would tell her the news. Caleb knew I was distracted and he spent all night trying to pull my attention back to him. Sitting in the car, I wanted to tell him the truth. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I changed my mind. No matter how much I loved him, I just wasn’t ready to share this with him. Or anyone. Just thinking about telling my father was enough to make me break out in nervous hives. Part of me wanted to run away, to leave town, and seek treatment elsewhere.
Deep down, I knew that wasn’t an option. Not only would that destroy my father, but it wouldn’t be fair to Caleb. We’d been through so much together, and now I couldn’t turn my back on him. He wouldn’t understand. I would break his heart like he broke mine. No matter what I was going through, I knew I could never do that.
I finished getting ready quickly, eager to be away from Caleb so I could think. When he wasn’t around, I missed him fiercely. But when he was sitting next to me, I felt guilty for not sharing the truth with him. I felt like I couldn’t win. As I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, I opened the bathroom door and stepped into Caleb’s bedroom. He was no longer lying on his bed, and his crutches were gone. I frowned and went to look for him in the living room.
Before I made it to him, I heard his voice drifting into the bedroom. I stopped quickly when I could hear what he was saying.
“I lost the last bottle,” he said. “I’m not sure where it went, but I need a refill.”
He fell silent for a second.
“I know,” he said. “But Dr. McGee told me to call if I have any problems. The pain has been getting worse. I can’t ignore it anymore.”
He paused again, listening to the person on the other end of the phone.
“Today?” he asked. “Thank you. I’ll pick them up this morning.”
My heart was racing when I heard him hang up the phone. There was something about that phone call that didn’t sound right.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the living room just as Caleb came around the corner. He smiled and walked over to me, using his crutches for support.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“What?” He frowned.
“That phone call,” I said.
“Oh,” he said lightly. “I just lost my painkillers, so I called Dr. McGee’s office for a new bottle.”
“You lost them?” I asked suspiciously.
“Yeah.” He nodded.
I stared at him, waiting for him to explain further but he didn’t. I hadn’t seen Caleb take a single painkiller since he was discharged, not even during his physical therapy sessions. Still, just because I hadn’t seen it, that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.
I felt my stomach tighten as I stared into his eyes, trying desperately to read his mind. As a PT, I’d been trained to recognize the signs of addiction, but with Caleb, I didn’t know where to begin. I knew him so well and yet the way he kept fidgeting made my suspicions grow.
“Are you sure you lost them?” I asked.
“What does that mean?” His eyes narrowed.
“It’s just a question,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “But why are you asking it?”
“It’s my job,” I said. “If a patient is showing signs of abusing prescription drugs, then I need to ask.”
“Are you fucking serious?” he scoffed.
“You don’t need to get defensive,” I said sharply.
“This is ridiculous,” he said. “I’m not abusing my pills, Tara. I’m in pain, and I lost the damn bottle. That’s it.”
“Okay.” I knew arguing was pointless.
We said our goodbyes and I left for work, still unsure of whether I believed him. Caleb wasn’t the type to lie, but if he really was abusing his drugs, then he wouldn’t just come right out and say it.
I wanted to believe him. As the day progressed, I felt guilty for accusing him. I wished I could take it back, but I didn’t want to apologize over the phone. He had a physical therapy session scheduled for that night, so I decided to wait and bring it up then.
He walked through the doors of the PT building at exactly seven o’clock. I smiled and walked quickly over to him, standing on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.
“I see you aren’t mad at me anymore,” he said without emotion.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was out of line.”
“Yeah, you were.”
He was still angry, but as we got into the session, his mood began to brighten. His muscle control was better than ever, and he was walking without the crutches more and more. I asked him to let go of the bars a few times, and he did amazing. He didn’t stumble a single time, but when we were finished, his face was contorted in a grimace.
“Are you in pain?” I asked, worried that I’d pushed him too hard.
“I didn’t get a chance to pick up my pills this morning,” he said. “I still can’t drive.”
My guilt worsened. It was obvious that Caleb’s pain was real. I felt like shit that I’d questioned him. I realized my worries were about myself and not him. I was scared about my cancer, and instead of dealing with it, I took it out on him.
“I’ll drive you,” I said quickly. “Come on. We’ll go right now.”
“Don’t you have to work?” he asked, glancing toward my desk.
I shook my head. “I can finish up in the morning.”
I handed Caleb his crutches and led the way to my car. Caleb slid into the passenger seat, and I tossed his crutches in the back. We drove through town toward the pharmacy. After we had his pills, I took Caleb home.
We lingered in my car outside of his apartment, neither of us saying a word. He was still mad at me for accusing him of abusing his painkillers, and I was still worried about my health. There was a giant wall between us, and nothing I did seemed to put a dent in it.
I turned to look at him. He was already watching me, his eyebrows pulled together and his forehead creased with concern. There were a million things I wanted to tell him, but when I opened my mouth, no words came out. He waited a few minutes, hoping I would say something. When I didn’t, he sighed and kissed me.
“I’ll see you later, Tara.”
“Goodnight.”
I watched him disappear inside his apartment, the door swinging shut behind him. It took me five minutes to drive away, and when I did, I instantly regretted it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - CALEB
My mother came over for breakfast the next day. She brought donuts and coffee and sat down at my kitchen table with a silly smile on her face.
“You’re happy,” I said, reaching for a donut.
“Is that a crime?” she asked.
“Should be,�
�� I said under my breath.
I was in a shitty mood after yet another confusing night with Tara. My physical therapy session went great. I kicked ass and managed to ignore the throbbing pain in my leg until it was completely over. Medically, I was doing fucking amazing. Personally, my life was in shambles.
I still didn’t know what the hell was going on with Tara. She continuously pulled me in and then pushed me away, and there was nothing I could do about it. After she accused me of abusing my drugs, I knew something was wrong. Whatever was distracting her so much was serious. I didn’t know why she wouldn’t just tell me instead of walking around with a huge chip on her shoulder.
“Coffee?” Mom asked, pushing a to go cup toward me.
“Thanks.” I raised the cup to my lips and took a long sip. It was scalding hot and burned my tongue, but I didn’t care. My head was too full of Tara to care about anything else.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you, or do I have to guess?” Mom asked boldly.
I looked up at her and sighed.
“How much do you want to know?” I asked.
“Everything,” she said.
“Bullshit. You don’t want to hear everything, Mom.”
“I do,” she said with a shrug. “But you can tell me whatever you want.”
I paused. Tara was a dangerous subject. My mother’s husband hated the idea of me being with his daughter. Darren would stop at nothing to keep us apart, and I couldn’t help but think my mom would feel the same way.
“I know you’re sleeping together,” Mom said, reading my mind.
“Did Tara tell you?” I asked, surprised.
“God no,” Mom laughed. “She’d never talk to me about that.”
“Then, how?”
“It’s obvious,” she said. “You two can’t be in the same room without staring at each other with sex eyes.”
“Mom.” I shuddered at her words.
“Well, it’s true,” she said. “So just tell me what’s going on.”
“I wish I could,” I said. I took another sip of coffee and shook my head. “I have no fucking idea what’s going on.”