What's Left of Me Page 6

  “Yeah. I mean, I didn’t really talk to him much.” Nope. I just stared at his full lips. Wishing they were on mine.

  “He’s from Florida. He went to the University of Florida’s College of Veterinary Medicine, and grew up on Jupiter Island.”

  “For someone who only met him briefly you seem to know his life story.”

  She laughs. “I asked Jason.”

  Of course she did. She has to know everything about everybody.

  “Okay, so what’s Jupiter Island?”

  “Aundrea! It’s where Celine Dion has a house. I think Tiger Woods has a place there, too. Well, that’s what Jason said. There are a lot of nice homes there, according to Google. I looked it up once he mentioned Celine and Tiger. It’s like a private little town, but not gated or anything, so people can drive through.”

  “So he has money?” I ask.

  “Um, I’m not sure. But Jason said his dad is some investment banker guy, so I think it’s his family that has money, not necessarily him. But, I mean, he is a veterinarian now, so he’ll be making pretty damn good money.”

  Typical. Good-looking doctor, who happens to come from money. This couldn’t be any better than if I were reading it in one of my books.

  “And”—she nudges me with her shoulder—“Jason said he’s single.”

  I shake my head at her, but smile. “I’m not looking for anything.”

  “I know. You always say that, but when are you going to be looking for something? It’s okay to date, Aundrea. To go out. Have fun.”

  “I go out.”

  “I mean with a guy.”

  “I do.”

  “Who is not your friend.”

  “I don’t want complications. I have enough going on.” I’ve tried dating, but it causes too many complications, so I avoid it as much as possible.

  “Aundrea.”

  “Please, Genna. Can we drop this? No one wants to date a girl with cancer.”

  I don’t want to get out of bed. It’s chemo day. I’m thankful my appointment is in the morning. It’s bad enough that I have to spend more than three hours there; it’s better to just get it over with.

  After throwing on some jean capris and a basic coral t-shirt, I make sure to grab my phone and Kindle. I don’t bother applying any makeup besides a little concealer around my eyes and mascara.

  Genna told me she was heading to the car, so I quickly make my way to the kitchen to pour myself a mug of coffee for the road. Slipping on my black ballerina flats, I make my way out into the chilly morning air.

  “Why are we leaving an hour early?” I ask as I make my way in.

  “Because Jason forgot a couple of charts he brought home over the weekend. He called when he got in asking me to drop them off on our way.”

  Awesome.

  I watch as she reaches to turn the radio down. Family time: this can’t be good!

  “Did you talk to Mom and Dad at all?”

  “Briefly,” I say. “Before I went to bed.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing. Both said they wish they could be here. I don’t know why, though. I mean …” I pause, trying to find the right words. “They would just sit next to me for a couple hours being bored, then watch me get sick. Not the way I’d want to spend my time.”

  The first chemo treatment is the worst as far as throwing up and nausea go. Doesn’t matter what type of cancer you have or what type of drugs they use the first time. The doctors don’t really know what they’re doing. Okay, that’s not true. They do; but it’s trial and error. They don’t know how you’ll react to the drugs or the dosage. They just administer them, see how you react, and adjust as needed.

  Yup, sounds fun, doesn’t it?

  “They do, you know. Wish they could be here.”

  “I know.”

  And I do. With all my heart. My parents are amazing. They’ve always been there for me, before and during this entire process. It hit my mom the hardest when she couldn’t get vacation time from her new job to come with me, but she knows I’m with Genna, which I think is the only reason she didn’t take a leave of absence.

  The medical bills are never-ending, so my mom couldn’t afford to work part-time anymore. She needed to switch to full-time at her current job, as well as take on a second part-time job to help out.

  The expenses related to the Hodgkin’s lymphoma have thrown my parents into bankruptcy. My dad’s insurance wasn’t the best, with a high deductible and an even higher maximum out-of-pocket. No matter how many times my parents pleaded with facilities for a payment plan, it always came back to them wanting ten percent a month. Ten percent of thousands of dollars from multiple places adds up quickly. Eventually, they lost their house, so we moved into a three-bedroom mobile home that had just the right amount of space for the three of us. To this day, I feel awful for all the financial stress, being the cause of them losing everything they worked hard for.

  My parents never show it, though. You’d never know any of it by just looking or talking with them. It’s as if losing their home or living paycheck to paycheck hasn’t affected them. They always smile, never fight, and are willing to get me or my sister anything we need.

  We pull into the parking lot of For the Love of Paws. It’s a little after eight, so only a few cars are around.

  Genna makes her way into the building. I don’t follow.

  After five minutes, Shannon opens the door yelling for me to come in.

  Holding the door open for me, she gives me a sweet smile. “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  Making my way into the small, quiet waiting area, I look around. There’s only one person waiting with her pet carrier. I can hear dogs barking and cats meowing from down the hall where they keep the animals overnight for surgery.

  They’re speaking my language. I know what it’s like to be held in a place you don’t want to be.

  “Did Genna get lost? The place isn’t that big.”

  “No. Someone Jason went to school with is here with her dog. I guess Genna wanted to say hi. She went in with him.” Great. One thing I’ve learned over the years is that Genna likes to talk. A lot. She also likes details, especially if she hasn’t seen someone for a while.

  I glance down at my watch. I have forty minutes until I need to check-in. I’ll be here a while.

  I make my way over to the fake granite desk that Shannon sits behind, glancing down the hallway as I do. I know Parker is here somewhere. A part of me hopes to see him while the other part wants to avoid him at all cost.

  The side door opens. Looking over Shannon’s shoulder, I come face to face with the person I was just thinking about.

  “Good morning Shannon,” he says. “Aundrea.” He says my name with a slight nod before turning to his right and heading down the hall.

  Hmm. Not the reaction I was expecting. Wait, what was I expecting?

  “How do you know Parker?” she asks, giving me a sideways glance.

  It all becomes clear now. I don’t know how I didn’t put two and two together before. The night at the bar. Shannon talking to Parker. They work together. She wasn’t flirting with him. This revelation makes me smile. Not that I should smile because I don’t care. Right? No. I don’t. Okay, maybe a little.

  “Oh, I met him at Genna and Jason’s the other night. He came over for dinner.” I try to say it nonchalantly.

  “He’s so hot. Hey! If you work here, you can join me in eyeing him all day. He’s great man candy!”

  Shaking my head, I say, a little too irritated, “Um … no. He’s not that hot. And no, I won’t be working here.” I bite my lip, hoping I sound convincing.

  Apparently I don’t. She gets a look of recognition. “Oh, does someone already have a crush on the new doctor?”

  “No.” I shake my head in disgust.

  “Uh huh. Right.”

  “I’m just going to go find Genna now.”

  She laughs behind me.

  I make my way back to Jason’s office. His door is
locked. I can hear voices two rooms down, which I believe is where the other exam rooms are. I scoot down the wall, resting on the floor with my head back against the wall, deciding to sit here in the peace and quiet until Genna comes out.

  I take my Kindle from my purse so I can get in a chapter or two of this paranormal romance book I can’t seem to get enough of. I’m right at the spot where she’s about to find out who—or what—he really is, when somebody clears their throat. I peek up to see Parker standing there in all of his hot gloriousness. “Hello, Aundrea.” Reaching down, he takes my hand and helps me to my feet.

  Parker reaches behind me to unlock the door, then pushes it open and motions me through. I walk past him into Jason’s office. The office is different from when I last saw it. There’s a cherrywood desk directly in front of me with two small, cream-colored chairs sitting directly across from a big black leather chair with a white coat hanging on the back. A small laptop and bronze desk lamp sit next to a tiny green and white plant in a round antique silver base. To my right is a small bookshelf filled with books, a silver digital clock and a picture frame of Parker standing with two other men and one woman.

  I turn around quickly at the sight of the picture. “This is your office?” I ask Parker who is just watching me intently.

  “Yes.”

  “But this was Jason’s.”

  “Yes, was. He is now down the hall.” He doesn’t elaborate any further and I don’t ask questions.

  “Okay. Well, I better go. I was waiting for Genna. We have plans and we need to get going.”

  “They’re just finishing up. Maybe five more minutes? Have a seat. Talk to me for a minute.”

  I make my way past a big green plant by the door as I move to sit in one of the chairs. “You want to talk, so talk.” My tone comes out more annoyed than I intend, but I don’t correct it.

  Parker closes the door, then walks over and sits on the desk right next to me, completely ignoring the two empty chairs in the room. “I’d like to talk to you about working here. I have a feeling the tutoring”—he makes air quotes as he says “tutoring”—“was fabricated. I hope not on my account?” He quirks an eyebrow up.

  “I can’t work around you,” I say truthfully.

  “Why not?”

  Because with one taste I want more. Then, when I do, the satisfied feeling that overtakes me is an electric high. Something I can’t get enough of.

  “You know why.”

  “No. Please enlighten me.” He sits back on the desk, crossing his arms in front of him. That stupid sexy grin is back and I want to slap it right off.

  “I don’t have to explain myself. It wouldn’t be right working here. Not after we …” I don’t elaborate. I don’t think I need to explain to him what we did.

  “After we what, Aundrea?” He leans forward, bringing his face close to mine.

  I watch his mouth as he talks, and think how sexy his lips are, poking through the short whiskers that frame his mouth. His beautiful mouth.

  Get it together, Aundrea.

  “I’m real—”

  Cutting me off, he quickly adds in a low, hoarse whisper, “Before you say no again, let me tell you that I’ll be on my best behavior the entire time.” I watch as he puts his hands up in the air, as if in a freezing motion, with his lips in a straight line.

  “You won’t try to make a move on me?”

  “No.” A grin is forming on his face.

  “Not once?”

  “Well …” The grin becomes wider. I raise my eyebrows at him, and he sighs. “Okay. Okay. I won’t make a move after you agree.”

  “Promise?”

  “Scouts’ honor.” He holds up two fingers. I’m pretty sure the Scout salute is three fingers.

  Standing up from the chair, I bend to pick up my purse. I need to move away from him. Get some space. I can feel the heat coming off of him and I can’t think straight with him so close to me.

  Before I can reach my purse, Parker grasps my arm and pulls me toward him. He gets a grip on my waist, twisting me into him and locking his mouth to mine while bringing his right hand behind my head, holding me in place. My hands come up to his chest to push him back, but as I feel his tongue push into my mouth, deepening the kiss, I lose all control and lean into him. I grip his shirt, pulling him closer to me. Our mouths move together while our tongues continue to explore.

  Parker groans when I pull his tongue into my mouth and start to suck on it. I remember he really liked it when I did that. His hands leave my waist and head. Before I know what’s happening, he’s standing and turning me so that my back ends up flat against his desk moving his hand under my shirt, brushing my skin with his fingertips until his hand reaches my breast. He cups it with his hand, squeezing it hard and causing me to let out a soft cry.

  I feel the tingle of his whiskers brushing against my neck as he trails light kisses from my ear down to my collarbone.

  “God, Aundrea. You smell so good. Like … sweet pears.”

  I can’t help the moan that escapes my mouth as his hand slides into my bra, pinching my nipple. As if that’s his cue, he roughly brings his mouth back to mine.

  The ache between my legs meets the hardness between his. There isn’t anything I want more than to feel him inside me. I lift my legs up and start to wrap them around his waist, needing to be closer to him. He reaches back and grabs my legs, securing me tightly to him.

  “I want you so bad. Right now, Aundrea. Right. Fucking. Now.”

  His words break the hazy cloud clogging my brain, and I muffle his name between our locked lips. My voice comes out raspy, begging rather than getting his attention to stop. Breaking the kiss, I grab Parker’s hand still squeezing my breast.

  “Parker,” I say firmly. He doesn’t hear me, or just ignores me and moves his face into the crook of my neck, kissing me more. The stubble from his facial hair sends shivers down my spine.

  “Parker,” I say a little louder this time, followed by a push to his chest. “We need to stop.”

  Parker stops kissing me at the word stop and slowly stands up, panting as he releases my legs.

  I stand up, fixing my shirt and running my fingers through my hair. “You said you wouldn’t make a move after I agreed.”

  “Yes. After you agreed. I didn’t want you to agree yet, so I could do that.”

  I don’t speak. I just stand there in front of him, panting for air and trying to calm myself after that kiss.

  With two large strides, he’s right in front of me. He moves a piece of my hair off my face, reminding me of our dance the night we met.

  “What do you say, Aundrea? Will you work here? With me?” he whispers at my mouth.

  I’ll say anything you want. “Yes.”

  I can’t believe I’ve just agreed to this.

  “It’ll be fun,” he says with a wink.

  Fuck.

  When Genna and I make our way into the Mayo Clinic, she talks about running to the store to pick up some juice and crackers for me. I don’t pay her much attention. I just keep saying yes.

  I get seated in a big, blue, cloth chair after my check-up with one of the oncologists. The nurse asks me to verify my full name, date of birth, and allergies.

  “Aundrea Leigh McCall. March 14,1992. No allergies that I’m aware of.”

  She explains the drugs I’ll be getting and to expect my first round to last three hours. I don’t know why they tell me the names because I’ll never remember. They’re these long names that I could never pronounce correctly. I don’t even know if the nurse pronounces them correctly or if she just sounds smart.

  Normally the nurse applies a topical numbing cream over the port so that when they put the needle through the skin I won’t feel it, but I don’t have her apply it. The pain of a needle stick is nothing. Not after having a needle the size of my forearm shoved into my pelvic bone to take out my bone marrow cells! Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but the needle was seriously long!

  After I’m
hooked up and the drugs are flowing, I try to sit back and close my eyes. Relax a little.

  When you get chemo, the offices usually have a light side and a dark side. One half is where patients can sleep or rest, and the other half is where they can read or talk to other patients.

  I choose the lighter side. I can’t rest after my encounter with Parker. My body is still quivering from his touch, and as much as I try to come down from my Parker high, I can’t stop smiling. His parting words, “It’ll be fun,” won’t leave my mind. There is no doubt that working in the same space as him will be anything less than fun.

  I’m still trying to get over the fact that I let him practically take me on his desk like that. What the hell is wrong with me? When he is near me, I’m no longer myself. I swear, he has some type of power over me. Okay, now my fictional life is becoming a part of my reality. Great! This is why my mom always tells me not to get so caught up in my books. Soon you won’t be able to tell what’s real and what’s not because you’ll just be living in that head of yours!

  An hour later, the smile is finally wiped off my face as I reach for the trashcan and start to throw up. The nurse makes her way over to me and gives me something through my IV.

  “There you go, honey. I gave you something for nausea. That should help.”

  I try to say thank you, but the heaving won’t stop.

  Normally the getting sick part doesn’t happen until that night or the next day. Why it’s happening now, I have no clue. Maybe it’s the higher dosage of drugs. Maybe it’s my nerves kicking in. I’m not sure.

  After a short while, I stop throwing up just in time for Genna to show up.

  “How are you doing?” She sits in the chair next to me, pulling out some crackers and apple juice and handing them to me.

  Well, let’s see! I have tubes going into my body that are hooked up to a machine pumping toxins into me to kill off cells, all while being completely nauseated. Yup, I’m fantastic. Pull out the tea and cookies. Let’s have a party!

  “I’ve had better days.”

  “I’m sorry. The nurse said you threw up already?”

  “Yeah, I think it was just because I didn’t have breakfast.”