Let Love Live

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Let Love Live Page 26

by Melissa Collins


  Rachel is in a pre-operating room, hooked up to more monitors than any one person should ever be attached to. Her face looks swollen and she looks so tiny on the gurney. There’s a stool at her side where I sit and lose all ability to speak.

  Holding her small hand in mine makes my hand look more like a paw than anything else. A low chuckle rises in my chest thinking about how she’s said the same thing to me more than a few times before. “Mom, Dad,” I close my eyes, trying desperately to picture them once again, “I know you’re up there. You helped me once before by not letting me give up. Please, do the same for Rach now. Please help her; tell her she needs to stay here with me.”

  As the last word tumbles from my mouth, a team of nurses enter the room. With bags of fluid and other medical equipment in hand, they scurry about the room, making sure they have everything in line. The nurse who brought me in places her hand on my slumped shoulder. “She’s in good hands, I promise.”

  After kissing her forehead, I tell Rachel I love her and that I’ll be right outside waiting for her to wake up. In my darkest days, when I wasn’t sure if I could ever walk again, I never thought I’d have to walk away from my little sister and not know whether I would ever see her again.

  When I go back out to the main waiting room, I see Dylan at the opposite end with his phone pressed up to his ear. As I walk closer to him, I catch bits of his conversation.

  “Definitely not Monday, and probably the rest of the week, too.” A few more “uh huhs” and “yeahs” follow.

  “Thanks, Reid. We appreciate it. Yeah, talk to you later.” I step to Dylan’s side as he slips his phone into his back pocket. “Hey, what’s going on?” Dylan asks. Despite being filled with anxiety-laden concern, Dylan’s voice washes over me and soothes my wracked nerves.

  Collapsing into a flimsy chair, I’m surprised I don’t crush it. Going back over everything the doctor told me, I fill Dylan in on what’s happening with Rachel. Through the whole explanation, he remains focused and strong. A rock at my side. “She’s going to make it,” he says with a calm, sureness I wish I felt.

  A few minutes later, another nurse comes in and escorts us to the private waiting room. Every second ticking away on the clock is a loud ricochet bouncing around in the small room. Seconds build into minutes, into an hour, a slow avalanche catching more and more speed – threatening to bury me alive.

  One hour and seventeen minutes after we enter the room, the door cracks open and I feel vomit rise in my mouth. When Reid’s face and not Dr. Young’s appears, I’m able to breathe some oxygen into my lungs. A pretty blonde follows in behind him.

  “Hey,” Dylan greets him as he walks across to him, and gives him a half-hug, half-backslap. “Where’s Braden?”

  “We dropped him at Momma’s. She sends her love and prayers.” The girl with the sweet voice wraps her arms around Dylan’s neck and squeezes him so hard I’m surprised his face doesn’t turn blue.

  Reid steps across to me, holds out his hand. “Conner, I’m so sorry. How are you holding up?” The best response I can come up with is a lame “okay” along with a weak shrug. Pulling the girl to his side, he confirms what I had already pieced together. “This is my wife, Maddy.”

  Without a pause, Maddy opens her arms and gives me a big hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, though I really wish it were under different circumstances.” She breaks the hug and steps back to Reid’s side.

  “Here you go.” Reid hands Dylan a bag. “I just grabbed whatever I could. Hope it’s okay.” Dylan nods and drops the bag to the side of a chair.

  “Do you guys need anything? Have you eaten or do you want any coffee?” Maddy offers, eager to help in any way she can.

  “No, I’m fine. Just wish the doctor would get here already.” We all sit in a row of chairs, facing the door waiting for it to open.

  When another hour passes with no news, dread begins to consume me. Teetering on the edge of the unknown, where a life without my sister is a black nothingness on the other side, I reign in my fears, not wanting to lash out just yet.

  If I had anything to offer to the God who’d already taken my career, my parents, my hopes and dreams and crushed them, I would give Him anything He wanted just so I could still have Rachel in my life.

  As if in slow motion, the door creaks open and we all stand. Out of a combination of instinct and necessity, I reach for Dylan’s hand when Dr. Young walks into the room. Maddy and Reid do the same and we all stand before him, a wall of fear and concern.

  “Everything went extremely well,” his words are muffled, but unmistakable even from behind his sea-foam green surgical mask. “Please sit.” He pulls a freestanding chair up to the row of chairs where we were just sitting.

  “We’ll be right outside,” Dylan explains, pulling Maddy and Reid with him to give me the privacy he thinks I need.

  “No,” I shake my head, “stay, please.” Dylan looks at me with such tenderness; it almost makes the gravity of the situation seem a little bit less. As they’re about to leave, I add, “You guys should stay, too. You’ve been here waiting the whole time.”

  With Dylan sitting right next to me, Dr. Young goes over the progress of the surgery offering what he’s sure will be a very good prognosis.

  “Can I see her?” My voice wobbles in relief and immeasurable gratitude.

  “I’m afraid she won’t be ready for visitors for a few hours. She’s in recovery now and then we have to make sure she’s stable before we move her. You could come back–”

  Knowing what he’s going to suggest, I cut him off. “No, I’ll wait. Please come get me when I can see her.” Dr. Young stands and nods, agreeing to take me to her no matter what time it is.

  After he leaves, Maddy and Reid stand, making sure there’s nothing else they can do for us before they leave to pick up Braden. “Thank you, both, so much for coming.” They let us know they’re never more than a phone call away, if we need anything and then they’re gone.

  When it’s just me and Dylan in the room, I collapse into a chair, letting the weight of the last twelve hours fall away. Tears of relief burn in my eyes as I hang my head in my hands. “Come here.” Dylan pulls me into a tight hug, his arms banding around me, taking away some of the pain that had built up in my heart throughout the day.

  When the tears turn into a full-blown cry, his hand combs back my hair. With a calming touch and soft words, I relax into him, so thankful that I have him with me. “Thank you for being here,” I mutter against his tear-stained shirt.

  With his lips pressed to the top of my head, he says, “Nowhere I’d rather be.”

  We stay like that for a long time, both of us eventually dozing. When a nurse comes in to get me a few hours later, she lets me know that I can finally go and see Rachel. Like the pillar of support he’s been all day, Dylan tells me he’ll be right here waiting for me when I get back.

  “Now, I don’t want you to be too shocked,” the nurse whose nametag reads Diane, tells me as we stop outside of Rachel’s ICU room. “She’s heavily sedated and very swollen. I know it doesn’t look like she’s doing well, but even in the short amount of time she’s been up here, she’s improved. Take five minutes, hun, but then let her get some rest.” Diane offers a sincere smile and opens the door for me.

  Fear clogs my throat, making it almost impossible for me to speak. Though she’s right here in front of me, I can’t battle back the terror of almost losing her. With soft footsteps, I approach her bed. “Hey, Rach.” I hold her hand in mine, immeasurably thankful for its warmth. “You made it,” I whisper against her skin, a single tear tracking down my cheek. “You get some rest. I’ll be back in the morning.” Careful not to disrupt the IV in her hand, I give her one more kiss and tell her I love her.

  When I get back into the waiting room, I catch the tail end of Dylan’s phone call to Reid, telling him that Rachel is fine and that we’ll be heading home soon.

  He collects the bag that Reid brought in earlier. On the short elev
ator ride down to the main floor, I rest my head on Dylan’s shoulder, exhaustion taking up residence in every square inch of my body. “What’s in the bag?” I ask through a huge yawn.

  “I wasn’t sure how long we’d be here, so I asked Reid to stop at my place and grab a few things in case we stayed the night.” It’s a simple gesture, one I’m sure he didn’t even have to think about twice. But to me, it means so much.

  Pulling his face to mine, I say against his lips, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

  “No,” he kisses me softly, filled with more emotion than an innocent kiss should ever have, “I’m the lucky one.”

  Taking in every inch of tanned, hard muscle currently sprawled across my bed is my new favorite way to wake up. With an arm tucked under the pillow and the other stretched out across my chest, he’s damn near perfect. It’s impossible not to follow every ripple and curve of his strong arms with my fingers. The lightest of touches makes him stir. His hand flexes on my chest. With a light graze of his short fingernails across my skin, a wave of goose bumps races everywhere.

  With a thickly drowsy voice, he mumbles, “Morning,” as he slides closer to me, resting his head on my shoulder.

  I press my lips to the top of his head, inhaling the lingering scent of his shampoo. “Sleep okay?”

  He nods. “Woke up even better.” A warm, sleepy smile graces his face before he presses a soft kiss to my neck. “Thank you for everything these last few days.”

  Lightly combing my fingers through his hair, I look down at him. “Of course. I was able to move some meetings and sessions, so I have the rest of the week off to be here for you and Rachel.”

  His arm bands around my waist, pulling me tightly to his side. On a long yawn-turned-sigh, he says, “I should get up.” Propping himself up on an elbow, he adds, “I need to get to the gym before I go to the hospital. Peter’s been great, but there are a few new staff members coming in and out today and I want to make sure he and Eddie have everything taken care of.” As he rolls out of bed, I miss his warmth immediately. “Gonna grab a shower first.”

  His boxer-brief covered ass struts out of the room, making my mouth go dry. My mind wanders – Conner all soapy and wet, slick and hot. Thoughts of water cascading in between the ridges and planes of his sculpted body do nothing to calm the raging erection that’s currently tenting the sheets at my waist.

  His boxers land next to me on the bed. “You gonna join me or what?” His laughter fills the room; his naked body is framed by the bathroom door, accentuating the piece of art he is.

  Not needing to be asked twice, I leap from the bed, strip out of my shorts, and join him in the hot water. “You’re in a good mood this morning.” It’s impossible not to notice. He’s pulled me into his arms, trailing kisses and bites along my neck.

  Pulling away from me, I notice some of the worry lines that had creased his brow since Rachel’s surgery a few days ago are gone. “Yesterday was a good day.” Now, that’s an understatement. Some of the swelling reduced and the doctors were able to lower her sedation meds. Right before we were ready to leave last night, Rachel actually opened her eyes. She was even able to recognize Conner and me and have a very short conversation with us before she fell asleep again.

  Lathering up a handful of body wash, I massage the bubbles into his shoulders. “You want me to help you out down at the gym today?” He moans, leaning into my touch. Rolling his neck to the side, I rub away the built-up tension.

  “No,” his word is near breathless. “It’ll do me good to get down there for a bit.” He turns around to face me, his face slack and dotted with droplets of water.

  “I’ll meet you there later, then?” My question mingles together with his moan-of-an-affirmation and I run my soapy hands across his chest, tracing down the deep-cut V of his abs.

  As my hand wraps around the thick bulge of his cock, he’s rendered speechless. A nod is all I get as my fingers glide over every veined, hot inch. His forehead falls to mine, the hot steam of the shower billows around us, mixing with the heated gasps of pleasure falling from Conner’s mouth.

  “I love hearing you moan, driving you crazy.” I pull his mouth to mine and push my tongue in his mouth in perfect sync with the rhythm of my stroking. We turn so his back is to the water, blocking the spray from falling on me as I drop to my knees. Though the water is scalding, the heat of his dick sliding past my lips is even more so.

  His hand cradles my face, splaying out across my jaw, tracing the outline that the wide crown of his cock makes against the thin skin of my cheek. “Fuck… Dylan… your mouth…” His hips gyrate, pushing deeper and deeper, as he fucks my mouth. I reach up and tweak a pierced nipple, smiling around his dick as a low grumble falls from his mouth.

  Conner pulls me up and crushes his mouth to mine, reaching between us, and taking both of our cocks into his large hand. My fingers wrap around his and we stroke ourselves in some kind of erotic tandem motion. “Condoms,” I slur against his lips. “We need condoms.”

  He doesn’t release his grip as he looks me pointedly in the eyes. “I’m clean. Was tested after my last relationship.”

  “Me, too,” I breathe, pulling his lower lip in between my teeth. As his hold on our dicks, and his control weakens, he presses me up against the wall. A thick digit probes at the ring of muscle of my ass. Loosening quickly, he adds another as he continues to jerk me with his other hand.

  His teeth sink into my shoulder at the same time that his cock sinks into my body. Attuned to everything about our lovemaking, my body relaxes instantly, opening to him, reveling in the feel of his fullness. “God, you feel amazing. So fucking huge, Con.”

  His grunts rumble against my neck as his fingers dig into my hips, pulling me onto his rock-hard dick as he pushes it deep inside. With a soap-slickened and wet hand, I stroke myself, to the beat of him fucking my ass.

  What were once smooth and measured thrusts become erratic and frenzied. “Coming…” he calls out, nearly making the glass on the shower door shake with his booming voice. Miraculously, I’m able to hold back. His motions slow, but before they stop, I turn him around, pressing him up against the wall.

  “My turn,” I lean my body against his and he looks at me, a triumphant and satisfied grin on his kissed-swollen lips.

  His thick legs slide open as my fingers graze over his ass. Spreading his cheeks, I probe my cock at his puckered hole, pressing slowly. Never fully entering or leaving the heat of his body, I tease him – back and forth, in and out, slow and steady, until my own control hangs on by no more than a thread.

  With one hard and fast push, I bury myself in him. The heaviness of my sack slaps up against his turned-pink-by-the-hot-water skin. “Fuck…” His head hangs low, nestling against my neck once again, but his body instantly relaxes, pulling me even deeper into him. With a white-knuckled grip on his shoulders, I pound into him, my orgasm building at the base of my spine, pulling my balls tightly against my body.

  On a loud roar of pleasure, I come, throbbing and pulsing on my final move. Despite having just woken up and being in a soon-to-be-too-cold-to-stand-it shower, a satisfied and sedate feeling washes over my body. Resting my cheek against Conner’s heaving chest, I press a kiss there. “That was incredible.”

  He takes a deep breath and pulls me into his arms. His eyes dart around my face, almost like he’s only seeing me for the first time. His mouth opens and closes rapidly, like a tossed out of the water fish gasping for air. Droplets of water spray my face as he runs his hand through his hair. “I’m trying, but I just… I can’t… I mean, I don’t know how to put to words what I want to say.” His words shred me, melt me, and then somehow, magically put me back together again.

  “I feel the same way.” I smile, crooked and ridiculously happy. We stay under the water just long enough to rinse off before we both start to freeze, despite never being more than an inch away from one another.

  About half an hour later, we’re walking out of my building to go about our
day. The familiar sound of his motorcycle rumbles in my ears as I pull out into traffic and off to the office to take care of a few last minute details.

  “Thought you were out for the rest of the week?” Reid makes himself comfortable on the small couch in my office after tossing his suit jacket on the chair.

  “I am,” I joke.

  Folding his arms behind his head, he lets out a healthy chuckle. “Clearly.” Sarcasm colors his words.

  “Conner had to take care of some stuff this morning, so I came here to do the same, and then I’m off.” Reid shoots me a wry look, mocking me and my never-take-a-day-off mentality.

  “How is she?” The real concern in his voice is evident. I fill him in on Rachel’s progress and prognosis. The elation and relief can clearly be heard in my words.

  I’ve already sorted through a huge stack of papers and filed a dozen more. Clicking through the last of my emails, I realize this morning was supposed to be the last session at Calhoun. “Why didn’t you remind me?” I demand, frustrated for not following through on the case.

  The look on his face suggests that he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “Untwist your balls, would you?” He kicks his legs off the couch, but stays seated. “I actually just got back from there.”

  “And?” I prompt, perhaps not so calmly.

  Reid shakes his head at my fairly worked up attitude. “Seriously, Dylan. You’re going to have a heart attack by the time you’re thirty if you don’t chill the fuck out.” He stands and strolls over to my desk.

  Flopping back in my chair, I let out a heavy sigh. “You’re right.” My hand flies through my hair as if doing so will help me get a grip on reality. “The last few weeks have been a lot to take.” A flippant laugh passes my lips. “But, seriously, tell me what went on. You know how involved I was.”

 

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