Perfect Distraction

by Allison Ashley

  Please don’t stop. I want this to spiral out of control more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

  She stopped at the entrance of the parking garage and looked him straight in the eye. “When you say things about how nice I look or that you want to spend time with me, it makes it nearly impossible for me to hide how I feel.”

  She pulled forward, and he wanted to point out that she was the first one to comment on his appearance that day and had basically undressed him with her eyes. He shifted in his seat, remembering the look in her eyes.

  He was also tempted to say that she had looked exceptionally beautiful, wearing that black sweater that clung to her curves and her vibrant hair loose and begging for his hands to bury themselves in the thick mass.

  “I’m sorry about that.” No, I’m not. “I’m not trying to put you in a bad spot. I’m not used to having to keep that kind of thing hidden, and it’s not easy. I want you to know what I’m thinking. And”—he pulled at the edge of the red hat he wore—“I don’t want you to hide it.”

  She pulled into an empty spot and put the car in park. She looked over at him, her expression softening. “The second problem is people are starting to notice.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “One of the nurses, Gavin? He stopped me after I visited you that day. Asked if something was going on between us.”

  The dickhead had a name. Gavin.

  “Is that the blond one?” he asked, to be sure. “I saw you two talking.”

  “Yeah. He called me unprofessional, told me to be careful, and that I could get reported for inappropriate behavior with a patient.”

  Red hot anger shot through Andrew like a lightning bolt. “He’s threatening you?”

  “I don’t think it’s that, exactly. I don’t get a dangerous vibe from him, but he’s definitely acting like a jerk. I’m not sure what his deal is.”

  “He likes you.” Of that, Andrew had no doubt.

  Lauren’s lip curled. “He has asked me out before. Several times. He never seems content with the fact that I’m not interested.”

  “I’ll be happy to make it clear.”

  She nudged him across the console with her elbow. “That wouldn’t make us seem less involved at all,” she said dryly.

  She was right.

  “What can I do?”

  She looked down at her hands and sighed. “You can ignore me until you’re done with chemo.”

  There was no way in hell. “I can’t do that.”

  Was that relief he saw reflected on her face?

  “Just…don’t treat me any differently than you would anyone else at the cancer center. Like Dr. Patel, or Emma. Don’t look at me differently and don’t talk to me differently. Can you do that?”

  He wasn’t sure. “I’ll try my level best.”

  She nodded and opened her car door to get out. He opened his as well, and they met at the trunk of the car.

  “I don’t think it matters how I look at you, though.”

  “Why do you say that?” she asked as they walked to the hospital entrance.

  He gazed down at her. “I can guarantee I’m not the first patient to check you out when you’re not paying attention.”

  She muttered something he couldn’t quite catch, and her cheeks flushed. They rode together in the elevator in charged silence, along with an oblivious man wearing scrubs and a white coat.

  They spent several hours with the kids, and Andrew was glad when Jasmine joined the group half an hour after he arrived. She looked as sullen as the first time he’d met her, but he also detected a hint of insecurity. She went to the same chair by the window as last time, and he joined her.

  “Hey, kid,” Andrew greeted.

  Jasmine scowled. “I’m not a kid.”

  “How old did you say you were? Twelve?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He grinned and she ignored him. “What are we gonna do today?”

  “I’m looking out the window. I don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “What are you looking at?”

  “Anything but you.”

  Andrew let that pass. “See that tall silver one? The ninth floor is the law firm where I worked last year.”

  “You’re a lawyer?”

  “Almost. I’m in my last year of school.”

  “My mom says lawyers are liars.”

  “Some of them are.”

  Jasmine continued to stare out the window.

  Andrew put his forearms on his knees. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

  Jasmine’s eyes flashed to his. “I won’t grow up.”

  Andrew’s stomach dropped. Shit. Lauren had said Jasmine was terminal… He hadn’t given any thought to the words he said. He wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, but at the same time he wanted to fold this young, thin girl up in his arms and give her a hug.

  But she’d probably kick him in the shin if he tried.

  He swallowed, holding back his emotions. “Okay. What do you want to be tomorrow?”

  She frowned. “What do you mean, what do I want to be tomorrow?”

  “Don’t people say we should live every day like it’s our last? Make each one count? People like us, who have cancer, should probably take that advice pretty seriously. If you could be something else, instead of a cancer patient, what would it be?”

  Jasmine’s dark eyes dropped to her hands. “I don’t know. I guess I’d want to be a regular kid. Ride the bus, go to school. Eat lunch in the cafeteria. Play soccer after class. Eat dinner with my family and watch TV until it was time for bed.”

  Andrew sat beside her, not speaking, ideas spinning in his brain. Finally, he said, “That sounds like a good day. When were you diagnosed, Jasmine?”

  “A year ago.”

  “Before that, what did you want to be when you grew up?”

  “An artist.”

  “That’s cool. What kind? Drawing, painting? Something else?”

  “I like to paint.”

  “Don’t they have painting supplies here?” Andrew twisted in his chair and pointedly looked at the art supply cabinet.

  Jasmine shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Then tomorrow, I think you should be an artist.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lauren had a smile on her face when she and Andrew made their way down to the parking garage. There were no sudden announcements that a patient passed away, and she’d watched Andrew build a friendship with Jasmine. Lauren had spent most of the day at the Lego table but kept an eye on them throughout the afternoon. It appeared Jasmine made Andrew work pretty hard, but eventually he’d convinced her to play Mario Kart. They played game after game—complete with Jasmine’s laugh and trash talk—and Andrew even forfeited his red hat as a prize when she beat him two games in a row.

  Lauren had been so engrossed in the kids and watching Andrew and Jasmine that she hadn’t noticed how the weather had changed.

  “It’s really coming down out there,” Andrew said as they entered the parking garage, the open-air walls allowing gusts of white flurries to blow inside.

  Lauren’s eyes went wide. “Oh, my goodness, it is.”

  Andrew held out his hand. “I grew up in Nebraska. I’m a master at driving in snow.”

  Relief rushed through her. “I hate driving in it.” She handed over her keys, and once again Andrew drove her car in the direction of his apartment.

  The roads were slick, and they drove at a near crawl, the ten-minute drive taking double that amount of time. Lauren remained quiet next to Andrew, allowing him to focus on the surrounding cars, her body tensing up with each slide across the ice.

  When he finally pulled into a visitor parking spot outside his building, he turned off the ignition and angled his torso to face Lauren. />
  “You’re not driving home in this. Come inside.” Before she could argue, Andrew got out and walked around to her side of the car, opened the door, and held out his hand.

  “I can drive myself home.” She looked at the dark gray sky and blinked. “It’s not that bad.”

  Andrew stared at her. “You said you didn’t like driving in snow. I’ve done it hundreds of times, and even I had trouble maintaining control. Your car isn’t made for conditions like this. Quit being stubborn and come in. Jasmine stole my hat and I don’t have any hair and it’s freezing out here.”

  “Fine.” She grabbed her purse and got out, nearly falling right on her ass the minute she stepped onto the icy asphalt.

  “Whoa,” Andrew said, grabbing her around the waist. Her hands flung out to grip his biceps, releasing him when she regained balance. He was a little slower to take his hands from her body, and the sensation unnerved her.

  “Take my hand,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.

  She slipped her hand in his and focused on taking slow, steady steps to the stairwell, which thankfully was covered and dry.

  To her disappointment, he released her hand as they climbed to the third floor. He unlocked the door and held it open, gesturing for her to precede him.

  “This is really nice,” Lauren said. The front door opened directly into the living room outfitted with furniture typical of a single guy. A dark gray couch faced a large flat-screen TV flanked by shelving. The living room opened to the kitchen, separated by a wood table with four chairs. The entire wall to her right was exposed red brick, giving off a trendy vibe.

  She glanced at Andrew, taking him in with the space. While he looked every bit the part of the young, confident, professional male, she still didn’t think he quite fit in here. Not completely. The more she got to know him, the more she saw the boy who grew up on a farm in a tiny town in Nebraska, surrounded by his family, hard work, and traditional values.

  He caught her staring and tilted his head to the side in question. She looked away to survey the art and photographs hanging on the walls and knelt to examine the books on his bookshelf. Mostly textbooks and crime fiction novels, just like he’d said. She shifted slightly to the left and found a large stand full of DVDs.

  “Wow. I didn’t know they made these anymore.”

  Andrew laughed. “Besides documentaries, I love movies. I stream nowadays,” he said in a tone that indicated he knew that was the “cool” thing to do, “but when I was in high school and early college I ended up with a pretty serious collection of discs.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said with a grin, turning back to the assortment in front of her. She gasped and pulled one off the shelf. “Oh my gosh, you have Love Actually? I adore this movie.”

  “Let’s watch it.”

  “Really?”

  “What else are we going to do?” Andrew gestured to the living room window. “Doesn’t look like it’s gonna clear up anytime soon, might as well do something to pass the time.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, thoughts of alternative ways she and Andrew could pass the time invaded Lauren’s mind. Heat spread through her body, and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, looking up at him from her crouched position.

  He stood with his hands clenched at his sides, his intense eyes on her.

  “A movie sounds good,” she said, her voice a notch higher than usual. She stood and grasped the edge of the bookshelf, her legs a little unsteady.

  Andrew took the DVD case from her, seemingly careful not to touch her as he did. She was thankful, because in that moment, she wasn’t sure she could control herself if she felt his skin against hers.

  As he bent over to put the DVD in, Lauren’s stomach growled, and she checked the clock on the cable box.

  “Why don’t we eat something first? It’s after six.”

  “Sure.” He crossed into the kitchen and opened a cabinet. “Let’s see…I’ve got stuff for spaghetti, sandwiches…” He moved on to the refrigerator. “Frozen pizza…”

  She sidled up beside him and ducked underneath his arm to peer into the fridge. She didn’t miss the grin on his face when she pressed up against his side.

  Her expression mirrored his.

  She moved a few things around and excitement filled her. “Can I make you an omelet? Breakfast for dinner?”

  “You trying to show off your flipping skills?”

  “Maybe.”

  He chuckled. “Sounds great.”

  He reached for the carton of eggs, and she inhaled his woodsy, masculine scent as he did. She grabbed a bag of spinach, tomatoes, and shredded cheese. After he helped her locate all the utensils and cookware she would need, he took a seat at the table and watched her work.

  They chatted while she cooked and while they ate. Though he complimented the meal and thanked her, he didn’t eat much. Maybe half of his omelet…but she didn’t take it personally. People’s taste buds went haywire during chemo, and appetites came and went.

  “Got anything sweet?” Lauren asked when she finished. She had a bad habit of eating a handful of M&M’s after a meal.

  “Sorry, I don’t think I do. I try not to keep that stuff around. I don’t have any self-control.”

  She pursed her lips, and her eyes dropped to his flat midsection. “So that’s why your body looks like that.”

  Andrew laughed. “Flattering me again?”

  She didn’t respond to that and instead said, “I don’t have self-control, either, and that includes at the grocery store. I can’t seem to stop myself when I want something.”

  “I find that hard to believe. You’re demonstrating excellent self-control when it comes to our situation. It’s taking super-human strength on my part to keep you at arm’s length.”

  “It’s an illusion,” she said quietly. She paused and toyed with a lock of her hair. “Besides, my problem is…once I start, I can’t stop. I think it helps that I haven’t tasted you yet. I don’t know what I’m missing.”

  Did I really just say that? Judging by Andrew’s expression he was surprised, too, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He groaned and leaned his head back against the chair, his eyes on the ceiling.

  Lauren jumped up from her chair, nearly knocking it to the floor. “I’ll, um…just—” She picked up both of their plates and walked them to the sink.

  Andrew remained seated for a moment before he joined her and nudged her aside. “The cook doesn’t clean.”

  After the dishes were done, they found themselves on opposite ends of the couch, talking. She made sure to keep plenty of space between them.

  “What made you want to go to law school?”

  Andrew cast his gaze across the room, like he was considering how to respond. “It’s kind of a long story.”

  “That’s okay.”

  His eyes came back to hers. “When I was a senior in high school, Jeni and I were in a bad car accident. A drunk driver swerved into our lane and hit us on the front driver side. Jeni was in much worse shape than I was, and her injuries, plus the condition of the vehicle, prevented her from being able to get out of the car. I could, though, and after making sure she was alive and breathing, I went to check on the guy who hit us.

  “He reeked of alcohol, and there’s no doubt in my mind he’d been drinking. When the cops arrived, they performed a Breathalyzer and he blew a zero-point-two, which is miles above the legal limit.”

  Lauren’s hand had come up to cover her mouth. “Was Jeni okay? I mean…I know she is now…that’s probably a stupid question. But it sounds awful. How bad was it?”

  “A broken leg, concussion, and several torn ligaments in her shoulder. She was the star of the softball team, and it ruined her chances to finish the season, and she lost her scholarship to play for Oklahoma.”

  “Poor Jeni.”

 
Andrew nodded. “The dumbass that hit us? He ended up getting away with it. All because he had an attorney who did some digging around and found that the Breathalyzer machine the police officer used was a week late for calibration. One week, and it was thrown out as evidence. There was no proof that he was under the influence, even though I smelled it and saw it with my own eyes, and he wasn’t charged with a DUI.”

  “I can’t believe that! How is that even possible?”

  “He had a damn good attorney, that’s how. That’s not the worst of it. Three weeks after the guy was released, he did it again, and that time he killed somebody.”

  Lauren gasped. “Someone you knew?”

  Andrew shook his head. “No. But I couldn’t shake this intense anger and a feeling of regret, that there was something I could have said or done through the proceedings, even just as a witness and victim of the crash, that would have either put him behind bars or had his license revoked. And maybe that person would still be alive.

  “So that’s what originally prompted my interest in law. I wanted to be on the other side of things, representing victims like Jeni and myself, making sure criminals like him weren’t being set free because of a technicality. The more I’ve learned about the system, the more I’ve seen the other side of the coin, too, where innocent people are wrongly convicted. And I feel strongly about that, too, that someone needs to stand up for them. It’s hard to do both, but I think our justice system should be able to function in a way that’s honest and fair, and in all things, seeks the truth. I want to help get us there.”

  “That’s incredible, Andrew.” How was it that one man could be so wonderful? “I can see you doing exactly that. Dedicating your life to protecting people.”

  “While you dedicate your life to saving people.”

  She looked down. “I don’t save them all.”

  “There’s more than one way to save someone,” he said softly.

  She smiled but didn’t look at him.

  After a moment, he changed the subject. “Tell me what’s so great about Coleman Cancer Center. Why do you want to stay here so badly?”

  “So many things. The pharmacy department is advanced, and I love the involvement I have in patient care. There are hospitals where clinical pharmacists don’t exist, and at a place like that I wouldn’t be able to have the direct patient contact that I love so much.”