4. Char
4
CHAR
Todd threw his gloves on the workbench.
“What exactly is your problem, Betty?”
For a full minute, she could only stare. Wasn’t that just like him. Blame everyone but himself.
“I don’t have one. I’ve got a great job offer in the city, and I’m going.” She’d been tempted to say you , but thought better of it.
He huffed and turned away. She let her eyes drift over his broad shoulders, the muscles of his back on display in the white tank top. If this was goodbye, at least she’d have that image to remember him by.
M y alarm sounded, and I cringed. Ninety-seven measly words. In an hour. I sighed. Considering I’d barely slept, it was better than nothing.
The entire night, I’d tossed and turned, strange dreams plaguing me. Sex dreams. With tentacles.
I was not above reading some tentacle smut. For research purposes, naturally. But having vivid dreams involving tentacle penetration was…new.
Another minute ticked by as I stared at my phone. Twenty minutes until I needed to be ready to pick up Naomi. I shook off the images that had been swirling in my head since I woke up. Images of silver eyes, and a studded cock, and something circling the base of said cock that I couldn’t quite understand.
I blinked. Nineteen minutes. Time to move.
Naomi’s transfusions weren’t normally scheduled over the weekend, but this one was urgent. When I’d seen her yesterday, she looked paler than usual, and so tired. I was worried. She was too fucking young for this shit. It wasn’t fair.
Thankfully, I’d slept just enough that I felt fine to drive. Tired, but functional. I changed out of my pajamas into jeans and a light sweater, pulled on shoes, and chugged the last of my coffee before running out the door. Her house was right next to mine, so I didn’t need to go far.
Not far at all, as it turned out. Naomi was already waiting in my driveway, standing next to my car. Her auburn hair was up in a loose bun, green eyes bright in the early summer sunshine.
“Late night? You look shittier than me.” She smiled, but her jaw was tight, and I could tell she was hurting.
I laughed. “Thanks. Let’s go get you taken care of, then we can both take a nap.”
“Party time, sounds great.” She gave me a thumbs up.
Naomi could hide behind a brave smile, but the dark circles under her eyes and her careful movements gave her away. She was getting worse. The transfusion would help her feel better, but it wasn’t a cure.
My job was to follow her lead. Be upbeat if she was. A shoulder to cry on if she needed. I gave her a thumbs up right back and unlocked the car.
T he waiting room at the hospital was reasonably pleasant, and I had it to myself. A big window let in natural light, and the furniture was all blond wood with gray and lavender swirling patterns on the upholstery. Soothing. I’d glimpsed the actual treatment room when Naomi was led through the door by a nurse, and it was more sterile.
I wished I could go with her, but I had to wait out here. She was okay without me, though. The nurse had cheerfully announced that a regency romance movie was playing on the TV in the treatment area, and Naomi was grinning when she waved goodbye to me.
In the silence, with all the competing thoughts in my head, it was hard to concentrate on the book I’d brought to read, and I closed it. I was staring up at the wall across from me—or rather, at the watercolor of an ocean scene hanging there—when a petite older woman came in, wearing a volunteer badge. Her neon pink shirt was covered in sequins. I had to blink past the contrasting glare to see that they formed the outline of a kitten.
“Oh shit, sorry. Thought this room was empty. I was looking for a place to pop a gummy.”
A gummy?
I cleared my throat. “Just me in here, waiting for my friend.”
The woman smiled. “Sundays are usually dead around here. Ha, dead.” She cackled at her own terrible joke. “Nice to be able to do my job for a change.”
She sat down next to me with an exaggerated huff, her short legs straight out in front of her on the chair. Then she pushed herself forward on the seat and started swinging them like a little kid.
“What’s your job?” I asked.
“Candy striper. No, crap, they don’t say that anymore. ‘Visitor ambassador’ or some bullshit.”
She was still grinning, as if talking to me was the most fun she’d had all day. Or all month. Her gray eyes had a friendly sparkle. I liked her already.
“I’m Char.” I held out my hand, and she shook it.
“Edna. Nice to meet you. How’s your friend doing?”
“Not great. She’s here for a transfusion.” It felt good to unburden, but I was cautious about sharing details with a stranger. “Her numbers are really bad.”
Edna frowned. “Prognosis?”
“Bad.” I couldn’t say it out loud, and I hoped she took the hint.
“Ah.” She nodded. “Can she still go out, have a little fun? You look like you could use some fun yourself.”
Wow, this woman had no filter. I smiled.
“I’m hoping to take her out for lunch after this. I actually had enough fun to last me a while last night.”
“Oh, did you now?” She stared at me intensely, and I wondered if she was trying to read my mind. Or see my aura. Edna had that kind of vibe.
“Met a guy, but it wasn’t meant to be.” There. A vague bit of gossip to liven up her day.
“Do you believe in true love?”
I flinched. Her tone was so serious, like this was information she needed to know. Maybe that’s why I let my guard down.
“No. My parents got divorced when I was young, and I saw what that looked like. Definitely no fairy tale there. Human beings can be pretty cruel. And I’ve dated enough to know that people tend to lie about themselves, or what they really want. The only person I can trust is myself.”
I heard the neurosis in my own words, the abandonment issues I’d spent plenty of time discussing with my therapist, but it was my honest answer.
My parents had rejected each other, but they’d also rejected me, passing me off to be raised by a stream of relatives who didn’t love me either. Affection was something I learned to live without.
When I’d found it with guys I dated, it never lasted long. Like the cute musician who professed to adore me, but then said he wasn’t “ready” to see me exclusively. Or the poet who was more interested in partying and telling his friends how great I was than in spending any time alone together.
Commitment wasn’t something I had any experience with.
Not that I let anyone get close enough to hurt me when it ended. I couldn’t remember ever feeling attached to a guy in a way that I would call love . And I was well aware that being a romance writer made me a total hypocrite. What I wrote was fantasy. It wasn’t real.
Edna didn’t judge. She just nodded and stood.
“Humans can be cruel, you’re right. You should probably try something else.”
Before I could react to that odd statement, she walked out the door, turning at the last minute to wink at me before disappearing down the hallway.
In the quiet of the empty waiting room, her parting words sounded loud and clear in my mind. Something else . My imagination went right to the tentacles in my crazy dreams. And to Ryoch, with his strange eyes and shifting appearance. I could have sworn I even smelled his cologne in the air, and I had to cross my legs.
Forget him. Just another disappointment waiting to happen.
I laughed out loud, shaking my head at the insane interlude. Something other than humans. Good idea.