“I have a lump. In my testicle.”
Garrick could barely breathe. He couldn’t tear his eyes from Rhian.
Rhian continued in a dull monotone, describing the details of his discovery, his appointment that week, how little he actually knew at this point.
Tears rolled down Garrick’s face. He saw Savannah was in the same condition, her eyes pinned to the screen. Rhian was dry-eyed, his gaze as hollow as his voice.
Garrick wanted to jump from his bed and drive to the Moncton Airport without hanging up. He wanted to beg, borrow or steal his way onto the next flight to anywhere that would connect him to Boston. Maybe he should drive? It was only eight hours. It might be faster.
But goddamn it, he couldn’t do any of those things. He had a meeting at seven o’clock tomorrow morning and he had to be there. Rupert Smythe, the Ice Cats’ manager, was in Montreal searching for his missing 4-year-old brother. Rupert was becoming understandably frantic. Garrick couldn’t ask him to wait on that.
Not to mention, Garrick realized with stomach-plunging dread, he had no idea what the status of his relationship with Rhian was right now. He hadn’t heard from the man in weeks. Maybe this was just a courtesy call.
Rhian had stopped speaking. In spite of the fear radiating from him, or maybe because of it, Garrick had to ask.
“Where’d you go, Rhian? What happened to you? To us?”
Rhian flinched.
Savannah slid from the couch. “I’ll be back in just a minute,” she said quietly.
Garrick was so fucking grateful that she understood. It was hard to imagine how he could ever thank her sufficiently. It had to be brutal for her to deal with this shit, let alone graciously.
Garrick heard the sound of a door closing over the line.
Rhian stared at something off camera.
“Rhian?”
He frowned and looked back at the screen. “Yeah. Sorry. Just worried about Savannah.”
“That makes two of us,” Garrick said. “Do you need to go?”
“What? No. She’s okay. I was just thinking about how hard this must be for her.”
Garrick sighed. “Me, too.”
Rhian worried his lower lip with his teeth. Garrick waited.
Rhian opened his mouth a few times before finally spitting out, “I love you, and I screwed up. Big time. I’m sorry.”
Garrick closed his eyes as the hundred-pound lead weight was lifted from his chest. “Say the first part again and it’ll go a long way toward making me feel better.”
“I love you.”
Garrick smiled. That was the first time Rhian had ever said it without any hesitation. “I love you, too.”
“I’m glad,” Rhian said in a raspy voice.
Garrick’s eyes popped open.
Rhian was holding it together, but it looked like it was by a thread.
“Why, Rhian? Why did you leave me?”
“Because I’m an idiot. Because I thought it would be easier for you if I went away and didn’t drag you along if I get sick.”
“You’re not going to get sick.”
Rhian smiled a little. “Okay.”
“And if, god forbid, you do have to get treated or whatever, I’m going to be there the whole way. I’ll get the hell out of Moncton as soon as I can, I promise.”
“Stay and finish what you need to, Garrick. I’m okay. For now it’s just appointments, tests, and waiting.”
It sounded like hell on earth, especially the waiting part.
“You won’t disappear again, will you?” Garrick hated the fear in his voice almost as much as the way it made Rhian cringe.
“No, I won’t.”
“Why the hell did you think you could spare me this? Even if you dumped my ass, I would be worried sick. I love you, Rhi. What part of that is hard to understand?”
“It’s not hard to understand. Not anymore.” Rhian smiled. “But yell if you need to. Savannah already tore up one side of me and down the other.”
“She did?”
“Yeah, she did.”
Garrick smiled. “That’s my girl.”
“I can see how you two get along so well. She’s just like you.”
“Really? I think we’re totally different most of the time.”
Rhian laughed.
Garrick could guess some of the ways Rhian would see them as alike. Probably their shared propensity to talk about scary shit, like feelings, had come up.
Garrick grinned. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“I miss you, too.” Rhian’s eyes filled.
Garrick almost lost his supper. “I’m sorry I’m not there. You shouldn’t do this alone.”
Savannah dropped onto the couch next to Rhian. “He won’t. I’m going with him to his appointment,” Savannah told Garrick.
Rhian looked at her like she was insane. “But—”
“And he’s going to get over it,” she stated firmly, still without sparing so much as a glance in Rhian’s direction.
Rhian turned pleading eyes to Garrick. “She’s awfully fucking bossy, isn’t she?”
Garrick chuckled. “Accept it. It will hurt less.”
Savannah smiled. “Well, we have an early start tomorrow, and it’s getting late.”
Rhian’s mouth fell open then snapped closed, repeatedly, until he managed to say, “But, I don’t have any plans tomorrow.”
“You do now. We’re going for a run.”
“A what? We are?”
“Yep. And we’re going to eat at least three healthy meals. Maybe get a little sun and fresh air. Got to keep you healthy in all ways, my friend.”
Rhian stared at Savannah, agape. Garrick laughed. The poor man had no idea what was about to happen to him.
Savannah wasn’t just picking up the pieces. She was going to glue the damn things back together.
“I love you, Savannah,” Garrick said. He only wished he had the words to tell her how much. How grateful he was.
Savannah smiled. “I love you, too. Goodnight.”
Savannah tilted the iPad toward Rhian.
“I love you, too, Rhian. Very much. Please don’t forget that again, okay?”
Rhian swallowed and cast a sidelong glance at Savannah. “I love you, too,” he croaked.
Garrick couldn’t decide if the two of them together was the best or worst thing that could happen at this point. Hell yes, it was weird. But after two weeks of hell, he finally felt whole again.
Chapter Nine
Savannah tossed her iPad on the couch and stood. Time for bed.
“Come on.” She held her hand out to Rhian.
He took it reluctantly and let himself be led to the bedroom.
“Okay, so here’s how it’s going to work. No more starving yourself and you’re going to drink plenty of water. And if you haven’t been getting enough sleep—which by the look of you, you haven’t—that ends now, too.”
“Oh really?”
She smiled sweetly. “Yes, really. Now strip.”
She almost burst out laughing at the scandalized look on Rhian’s face.
“Buh…wha…why are you doing this?”
“Getting you naked? Because I happen to know that’s how you sleep.”
Rhian turned a fairly adorable shade of pink. It was probably indelicate to remind him that Garrick had told her everything. Rhian had known going into his relationship with Garrick that this had been the deal, just as he knew it wasn’t the deal any longer.
She decided to let him off the hook. “Or do you mean, why am I helping?”
He made a face. “If that’s what you want to call this, yes.”
“Because I love Garrick and I never want to see him hurt. You getting ill and not taking care of yourself would hurt him.” She thought about leaving it there, but figured she should be honest. “And because I like you, Rhian, and no one, not even the man who gets to spend quality time with the man I want to horde all to myself, should go through this kind of shit alone.”
; “Well, that’s honest.”
“It is. You know that’s how I roll. I haven’t changed since we were friends in Moncton. It’s just weirder now, that’s all.”
“You can say that again.”
“It’s just weirder now, that’s all,” she repeated, deadpan. “And while I’m saying shit for a second time—strip.”
His eyes widened comically. This man got naked in a room full of other men on a daily basis, but one woman—who swore to herself she wasn’t going to stare—was freaking him out?
“Relax,” she scolded with a chuckle. “It’s not like I haven’t seen most of it before. As your trainer, I had the opportunity to inspect almost every inch of that fabulous body on a regular basis. Also, we both know you don’t swing my way, so really, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“But I—”
“Mind if I use the bathroom before I go?”
The change of subject threw him for a second. “No, not at all. It’s through there.” He pointed at the door off the bedroom.
“Thanks.” She smiled. “Get ready for bed while I’m in there, okay? I’m not leaving until I know you’re tucked in.”
He looked like he considered arguing, but remained silent.
Smart boy. He was getting the hang of it already.
The sound of the bathroom door locking threw Rhian into motion. He found his only pair of pajama bottoms—usually reserved for answering the door when he would otherwise be naked—and stripped out of his clothes.
He dove into bed, yanked up the covers, and settled against the mountain of pillows.
Then he laughed at himself. He’d had zero intention of going to bed so early, but had just been very effectively railroaded. It was just what Garrick would have done.
Ha. Garrick thought he and Savannah were so different. They were exactly the same.
He tried not to look nervous when she came to the side of the bed and sat by his hip. On the weirdness scale for tonight, Savannah tucking him in ranked almost as high as her teasing him about sex toys.
“You doing okay?”
He shrugged. “I’m fine. I don’t feel sick or anything.”
She took his hand. “I mean after talking to Garrick. I know it’s hard to be away from him. And to be stuck with me.”
“I’m not stuck with you.”
She searched his face, uncertain.
“I mean, I don’t feel stuck with you,” he explained. “Mostly I’m just relieved to have told Garrick everything.”
She smiled. “Good.”
“You know, it would be perfectly human of you to be a little disappointed over how things turned out tonight.”
“Yeah, maybe. But when you were throwing me out and I knew you’d screw things up with Garrick permanently, it didn’t feel like winning. I’m glad things worked out the way they did.”
He must have looked as dubious as he felt.
“Okay, even if it is a pain in the ass.”
He laughed. “Always honest, right?”
She smiled. “Yup.”
He smiled back, distracted by the bright green of her eyes, the hint of pink on her cheeks. “Thank you, Savannah.”
“You’ll take that back when you figure out you’ve only just begun to experience my bossy side,” she joked. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Sweet dreams.”
“Goodnight,” he said, his voice lower than intended.
She patted his arm, helped herself to his key card and both TV remotes and left.
Witch.
Savannah inserted the key card into Rhian’s door at six o’clock the next morning, wondering if he’d asked the hotel to change it. She smiled when the light flashed green, delighted to find the apartment still dark and Rhian passed out in the bedroom.
She’d woken this morning to a text from Garrick.
Thank you thank you thank you.
She’d sent him a good morning reply, purposely not writing you’re welcome. Not because she was pissed, or because he wasn’t in fact welcome, but because it implied she was doing it for him.
She’d like to pretend she was such an awesome, generous girlfriend that she was doing this for Garrick. But it would be a load of crap. She wasn’t that altruistic. If that was all there was to it, she’d be gone.
Rhian shouldn’t have to go through this alone. Seeing the doctor, getting whatever tests were ordered, waiting for the results—it was going to be an ordeal. He would need someone, even if he didn’t believe that now. Someone to ask questions that he was too stressed to ask. Someone to advocate on his behalf. She could do that for him.
He needed a friend. And regardless of their situation with Garrick, she still thought of herself as Rhian’s friend. At least as far as cancer was concerned.
Settling on the couch, she took out her phone and poked around online. She wanted Rhian to get as much sleep as possible.
A half hour later, the bedroom door opened and Rhian stepped out.
“Good morning” she said, laughing when he jerked back, sloshing water from his bottle down his bare chest.
“Jesus Christ. You scared me half to death.”
She sat up. “Sorry.”
He came closer and she told herself she wasn’t disappointed he was wearing pants. His hair stood on end and his eyes were puffy with sleep. In spite of all that, he looked pretty damn good.
She refused to let her eyes dwell on the drops of water still coursing down his exceedingly toned chest and abs.
Leaping to her feet, she smiled. “You about ready to go? I was thinking we could run out to Harvard and back.”
His blank stare made her wonder if he’d forgotten about their run. Maybe he wasn’t a morning person.
He scratched his head. “We’re going to run on the street?”
“Just until we get to the river, then we’ll run the Esplanade and along the banks. Trust me. You’ll like this route.”
He shrugged. “Okay. Give me five minutes.”
Rhian stood behind his bedroom door and tried to rein in his wayward imagination. His morning wood had barely subsided—thank god—when he’d staggered out of his room. Now it was back for an encore.
He’d never had a thing for loose T-shirts over sports bras and running shorts before today. Savannah filled them out better than anyone else he’d ever seen. He’d practically drooled over her long, bare legs stretched out on his couch.
He shook his head to pry the image loose from his brain. It was either that or figure out how the hell to run with a hard-on.
Yanking off his pajama bottoms, he gave his dick a thump to try to get it to behave and quickly got dressed. Usually he went without underwear, but not when he ran and definitely not today. Today, a tight jock-strap was definitely in order.
He briefly considered reinforcing it with duct tape.
Almost two hours and more than ten miles later, Rhian ran up the stairs to his apartment right behind Savannah. He’d conquered his rising physical interest quite easily once he determined that Savannah ran like the fucking wind. He hadn’t had trouble keeping up, but he’d been focused on putting one foot in front of the other and not on how great her ass looked when he was running behind her.
Well, okay, mostly not focused on that, anyway.
Stopping inside his door, he was pleased to see she was as winded as he was. Her legs were shorter—though not by much—but he was carrying around a lot more muscle. His lips twitched when she grabbed his wrist to check his pulse.
Always a trainer at heart.
“How am I doing? You going to have to whip me into shape?”
She staggered into the living room and leaned against the kitchen counter to stretch out her legs. “Yeah, Savage. I’m super worried about your fitness levels. I mean, wow, somewhere on that body is at least one ounce of fat. Though where, I don’t know.”
He grinned at her compliment, biting back the suggestion she conduct a thorough search. Jesus, was he about to flirt with Garrick’s girlfriend?
Then
she pulled off her T-shirt and used it to wipe her face.
Rhian’s mouth fell open.
Holy. Shit.
Apparently there wasn’t the need for a lick of modesty when it was just her with the supposedly gay guy.
This was bad. A sports bra shouldn’t have been sexy. The shadow of nipple beyond white cotton, and the hint of swelling flesh above, shouldn’t have been nearly so enticing. Her flat, well-defined stomach definitely shouldn’t make him want to press his face there.
God help him, his problem from earlier arose once more. With a vengeance.
Savannah wandered past him, oblivious to his slack-jawed daze, and went into the kitchen. “I’ll see what I can make us for breakfast.”
He remembered the butt plug in the freezer. “How about we go out? My treat. I don’t have anything in the house that will feed us both after a run like that.”
She smiled then looked down at her bare torso. “Okay, but it can’t be fancy unless you want to swing by my place first.”
“There’s a decent diner around the corner.” He gestured, as if she could see it through his closed blinds. “I’ll go shower and you can borrow one of my shirts. Top drawer, bottom of the stack. There should be some smaller ones that don’t fit across my shoulders well right now.
Her eyes dropped to his chest, and he froze, the proverbial deer in headlights.
He had shucked his shirt and tucked it into the back of his waistband around mile three of their run. Now heat spread along his bare skin wherever her eyes traced across it.
If she glanced lower, he was screwed. He spun for the bedroom. “I’m going to hit the shower.”
He didn’t wait for a response. Hell, he was stripped down and under the spray before it had a chance to warm up. He hoped the frigid water would help.
It didn’t.
Maybe he was delirious from the early run and weeks of sleep deprivation. It was just a woman in a sports bra, for god’s sake. It wasn’t a big deal. He’d seen a lot more of a woman’s bare skin than that in the past.
He focused on that as he wrapped his hand around his cock and propped one shoulder against the tile wall. Eyes closed, he shuddered at the squeeze of his palm and still-cold water.
End Game Page 6