If Tomorrow Never Comes

Chapter Twenty-One Elliott

Chapter Twenty-One

Elliott

After spending the weekend with Hank, Elliott desperately wanted a dog.

But not just any dog. She wanted Hank. He’d been the best running buddy, cuddle buddy, and meal buddy.

She loved him.

Her heart broke a little at the knock on her door Sunday evening. Hank let out a bark and she laughed.

“That’s just your dad.”

She opened the door and there he was, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His wavy blond hair was messy and perfect, the dark frames of his glasses the tiniest bit crooked across his nose. His hazel eyes looked tired and happy as they scanned her face.

He was so handsome.

She swallowed, ignoring her body’s plea to step forward and into his personal space. “How was it?”

“Good. Fun.”

“Win anything?”

His cheeks flushed, from pride or embarrassment she wasn’t sure, and he unzipped the side compartment of his bag to pull out a tiny trophy.

She giggled and clapped her palm across her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

He glared at her even as a smile tipped his lips. “It’s fine. You can be jealous.”

“Oh, I am. A participation trophy?”

“Excuse you. This is second place in the Work Climb category.”

She squinted and leaned forward. “Ah. So it is.”

“That’s enough,” he growled, stuffing the trophy back into his bag. “Where’s my dog?”

Choking back another laugh, she opened the door wider and stepped aside. Hank hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

“Seriously?” Jamie asked him. “First my dog sitter makes fun of my trophy, and now my dog doesn’t even care I’m home.”

Hank lifted his head to regard Jamie, his tail wagging.

Jamie dropped his bag and crouched down, slapping his thigh. “Come on, boy. I missed you.”

That was all it took. A blur of yellow fur launched off the couch and darted into Jamie’s arms, slathering kisses all over his face.

Elliott couldn’t blame him, honestly. If Jamie were hers, she’d greet him that way, too.

“He’s already had a run today,” she said, gathering a few toys scattered around the couch. If she stood there watching how adorable they were together, she might do something stupid, like tell Jamie she’d missed him. “And I fed him dinner.”

“How many treats did he weasel out of you?” Jamie gave Hank a final scratch and stood, a grin on his face and one eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I sent him with a full bag. Am I getting any to take back with me?”

She just stared at him for a moment, blinking. Her shoulders fell. “No.”

He laughed, a warm, rich sound, and her eyes immediately zeroed in on the dimple just beside his smile. That damn dimple, plus those sparkling eyes ... This man could ruin her if she wasn’t careful.

That was if he hadn’t already. She stubbornly refused to even consider how deep her feelings went, preferring to pretend they weren’t there, like any other mature, emotionally stable adult.

Jamie stuffed the chew toys in his bag and stepped sideways, probably to grab the dog bed next to the armchair, but he stopped and just stood there for a minute. His back was to her, so she wasn’t sure what he was looking at. Was he noticing that the dog bed had obviously remained unused? When he brought it, he’d said she didn’t have to let Hank on her furniture, and if she told him no, he’d know to use the bed on the floor instead. But she’d liked having Hank’s warm body next to her, despite the hair he left behind.

Or was it the dessert book on her coffee table, the one she’d shown him but hadn’t given to him because at the time he’d been in a relationship?

The Nebraska Medicine appointment reminder beside it?

“Jamie . . . ?” she began.

He turned, lifting one hand to drift it across his chest, the movement seemingly absent-minded, like something he did when he was uncertain. “Do you want him to stay?”

“What?”

“Hank. You said your appointment’s on Tuesday ... Want to hang on to him until after you see your oncologist and get the results?” Behind his glasses, his eyes held a mixture of sincerity and worry, as if he thought maybe offering this to her was an overstep. “He’s obviously happy to be here, and maybe he could distract you for a few more days. If you want.”

Elliott stood rooted to the floor, unable to move despite the warmth radiating from the center of her body. Her heart seemed to slow even as her pulse fluttered, a lump forming in her throat.

When was the last time someone considered her like that? The last time someone other than her family thought about her with kindness and care and offered something for no reason other than to make her feel safe?

Jamie cleared his throat and gave her an uncertain smile. He leaned down to grip the bed in one hand and straightened. “Or you might want him out of your hair. Have your apartment to yourself again?” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I won’t tell him, I promise.”

She lurched forward and threw her arms around him. Didn’t let herself think too much about it and wonder how he might respond or what it meant. All she knew was he was being thoughtful and kind and saying Thank you just didn’t feel like enough.

She’d obviously surprised him, because he didn’t react at first. Just stood there like a statue, unmoving and rigid.

Then the dog bed hit the carpet with a thump and his arms came up, curving around her waist and back. He was so much bigger than her, and the arm at her waist wrapped all the way around, his palm fanning out across her side, thumb reaching her rib cage. The other shifted up her back with a slight pressure, pulling her in. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

God, he smelled good.

She should have loosened her grip and stepped back but couldn’t seem to make her feet move. She stood there, flush against his body, waiting for who knows what. Her skin felt tight and hot, and her racing pulse had nothing to do with obscure worries about her health. This time, it was all Jamie.

As if someone else controlled her body, she shifted her head so her forehead pressed against his chest, and she just stood there, breathing him in, exhaling into the soft cotton stretched across his skin. Her fingers curled around his shoulders, gripping him tighter.

A shudder went through him, and his chest moved up and down as if he forced each drag of air into his lungs. He made no effort to move either, and by all accounts, it seemed they could stay here, entangled in the entryway of her apartment, forever.

Ever so slowly, his upper arm shifted, and his fingers slowly moved up, up, into her hair. An involuntary shiver shot down her spine as he delved his hand between the strands. Blood rushed in her ears, roaring in the silence, and her lungs seized on what very well could have been her last breath.

His head dipped low, warm breath brushing her earlobe.

She couldn’t—wouldn’t—move. Everything around her shifted and swirled, the ground dropping out from beneath her, threatening to take her down if it weren’t for his arms around her.

“I looked for you.”

His voice was a deep, low rasp. Her eyelids burned as the words settled beneath her skin and gathered in a chamber of her heart, the same place she’d stored every memory of him. His nose brushed the skin just at her hairline as he breathed out a sigh. “I’m so pissed at you,” he murmured into her neck, the first press of his lips there like a shock to her system. “If you’d given me your full name, your number, a fucking email ... something . Anything.”

A whimper left her throat, and she didn’t even have it in her to be embarrassed. Nothing mattered but his warm, hard body and the trail of his lips down the curve of her shoulder.

She’d dreaded hearing words like this, and yet ... they were like a balm to her soul. Like coming across the one thing she’d been searching her apartment for all month.

“I looked for you for weeks. Months. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. But you just disappeared and left me with nothing.” That final word came out on a harsh breath.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, throat tight and full. “I didn’t know ...” What? That she’d fall for him after one night? That she’d make it through and see him again? That they’d be so irrevocably connected for the rest of their lives? “... I’m sorry.”

She could hardly grasp one emotion before another took its place. Comfort, relief, regret, shame. Grateful that she could be here again, with his heartbeat mere inches from hers, his face buried in her neck and his hands memorizing her body.

It was short-lived.

“If I’d known you’d come back, I wouldn’t have—”

“No.” She sucked in a breath and yanked back, shaking her head. “No. Don’t.”

What was she doing?

He released her right away, but his arms were slow to fall back to his side. A muscle flexed in his cheek as he clamped his full lips together, silencing the rest of the sentence. His nostrils flared as he stared at her, the green flecks in his eyes somehow brighter.

She pressed both fists to her forehead and took several breaths, willing her heart to calm and her brain to clear. Her gaze dropped several inches to his collarbone because yes, she was a coward.

“Don’t say you wouldn’t have gotten back together with ... her.” Her throat was a parched desert as she tried to piece together her reaction and explain it to him.

“Okay.” Jamie’s eyes seemed to drink in her features, his gaze slowly sliding across her face. He held very still. “Is what Tiffany said that night true? You talked about me ... dreamed about me? When you were in the hospital?”

She tucked her lips between her teeth and nodded. She wasn’t afraid to say it—not like she’d been before—but she was trying not to cry.

“When you came back, did you want to see me again?”

She nodded again and took a steadying breath. “But when I did—”

“I was with Carly.”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I can’t pretend that didn’t change anything. I owe her everything.”

It changed everything that day, without question. But so much had happened since then, and she wasn’t sure where to go from here.

“I meant what I said. I didn’t break up with her with expectations from you.” He ran a hand through his hair, muscles in his forearm rippling. “It needed to end no matter what, and just days from now she’s leaving for a job she’s always wanted. Believe me when I say it’s better this way for both of us.”

If Elliott hadn’t seen and heard it from Carly herself, she might not have believed it. But she had, and she did.

“I’ll respect your choice about us. Always.” The way he said the word us nearly buckled her knees with wanting. Us ... If only. “If you can’t get past the fact Carly and I were together once, I’ll figure out how to live with that. But that might mean I have to stay away from you, because I’m starting to think I can’t just be your friend. Not now, not yet. I’ve tried and I’m failing miserably.” His gaze locked on hers, eyes blazing. “I still want you, Elliott. I want to be with you, spend time with you, and learn everything about you. I want to touch and hold you, and I want to kiss you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I’ve tried to stop. I’ve tried so fucking hard to stop, and it’s like deciding to live without air. I don’t ... I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know if I can.”

Elliott would never know how she held herself back in that moment. It took literally every cell of strength to resist what her heart was screaming at her to do: take that step forward and seal her lips across his.

She’d never wanted anything more than the man standing before her, and she’d had reason to make some pretty serious wishes in her lifetime.

But if there was one thing Elliott had learned in her screwed-up life, it was this: some decisions couldn’t be made lightly. She’d made informed consent an art form, signing lines to state she had, in fact, read every single page she’d been given about the risks and benefits of procedures, chemotherapy, transplantation, and more. She hadn’t just flipped to the last page and signed, either—she’d actually read every. Single. Word. She was a person who had to know what she was getting into and whether the benefit was worth the risks.

She never signed unless she was sure, because then if something went wrong, she knew she’d considered all angles and was going in with her eyes wide open. She’d hope for the good while being prepared for the bad.

“I ...” I want you, too. “... I think I just need some time.”

She’d been in Omaha almost three months now, and Jamie had been single for two. Carly was moving to Oklahoma this week. How much time would she need before she let herself say yes? Would it ever be enough to give herself grace?

For both their sakes, she hoped she could get there. Soon, maybe. She just wasn’t there today.

“I get that. I probably need some time, too.” He reached up and rubbed both hands down his face. “I don’t know why everything had to happen the way it did, but you have to know I’m just happy I found you again. Because I’ve never, never felt like I did the night I met you. Not before and not after.”

“I know.” Her voice was so quiet she barely heard it, herself. “It’s the same for me. Even if I didn’t want it to be.”

Something softened in his eyes, and he swayed toward her, sending his rugged, masculine scent into her space. “If you decide it’s too much, I’ll figure out how to live with that. But hear me when I say: if you decide to give this a try, I’ll be here. Waiting for you.”

Was she out of her damn mind not to jump him right this second? To just go for it, everything and everyone else be damned?

Yes. Yuka would kill her.

Was she going to drag this out to sift through her nerves because this was a big deal with serious possible ramifications, and maybe to assuage her guilt a little?

Also yes.

Was she an incredibly lucky woman to have a man like him willing to wait while she figured her shit out?

So much so she was starting to think she didn’t deserve him.

She traced her toe along the carpet. “Would you really let me hang on to Hank for a few more days?”

“I’d feel better if you did. Honestly that’s half the reason I asked you to watch him. I knew he’d love being here, but he’s just as spoiled when he goes to my mom’s place, and I thought maybe you’d like the company.”

The words rushed forward without thought, as if her brain knew if she considered them first they’d stay unspoken forever. “You’re making it really hard not to kiss you right now.”

His lips parted on a forceful exhale, like she’d punched him in the stomach. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. “Don’t say things like that.”

Her skin warmed at his husky tone, and she swallowed. “Sorry.”

“I should go.”

Yeah, he should. “I’ll bring him back Wednesday?”

He turned away from her and quickly went for the door as if he didn’t trust himself if he stayed. “Sounds good.”

With one last look that burned her from the inside out, he left, Elliott and Hank staring silently after him.