Chapter 17 Noa
“Not you painting flowers.” Teagan snickered as I put the finishing touches on the anemones in my painting.
“And is.” I playfully rolled my eyes at my sister and kept on painting as she made her way into the kitchen. I didn’t even have to turn around to know she had that stupid, nosy smirk she’d had all day on her face.
“Your date must’ve gone good.”
“If you must know, it was better than good, actually!” I bit my bottom lip, trying to suppress the smile that was creeping up. Last night was everything and then some. I couldn’t get the thoughts of Quade touching my body while I made circles like a figure eight in his lap.
“You gonna tell me about it? Or are you gonna keep being secretive?” She stepped closer, eyes scanning the soft purple and blue tones I had spread across the canvas.
Teagan had been poking at me all morning for the details about last night, but I didn’t want to discuss it in front of Rico and James.
“I’ll tell you later.” I shooed her away.
“Later taking too long.” Teagan pouted as she trotted back into the living room with a glass of water in hand, probably on her way to irritate Rico while he worked.
I returned my attention to my canvas and dipped my brush in the purple paint again as I glanced at my flowers on the table.
It had been a long time since I’d painted something so light and fluffy.
I guess that’s what good dick did to me—had me smiling like a fool and painting simple shit.
My hands moved across the canvas as I envisioned Quade’s voice in my ear, the weight of his body against mine last night as we slept.
The way he held me, like I was something soft and sacred had me smitten, to say the least.
I swiped my brush over the canvas, smiling like a schoolgirl, but as I went to apply another stroke of paint, my fingers stiffened.
Then came my wrist. Then my whole damn arm.
It started like it always did, slow and quiet at first like a thief in the night, then immediately, it spread through my entire body, stealing my strength from every muscle and joint. Not now. Please, not now.
“Teagan!” My breath hitched as the paintbrush slipped from my hand and hit the floor.
“Noa?” Teagan replied. She must have sprinted into the kitchen because she was by my side instantly. “What’s wrong?”
“I think it’s a… flare.” I winced in pain just as my body trembled, and the muscles in my back and shoulders locked up. Shit. I cursed myself for not being in my chair. The damn paint stool wobbled beneath me as the pain spread.
“I need to lie down,” I forced out between breaths.
“Okay… Okay, hold on,” Teagan said, her voice rising as she looked around for my chair. Before she could move to get it, Rico was at the door, wheeling it in as if he’d heard us.
“We need to make the transfer,” she told me as she pulled the chair next to the bench. I nodded. The panic in her voice broke my heart. I hated making her panic.
“Q just pulled up,” James said just before the door flew open and Quade came running around into the kitchen throwing his tool belt off. The panic and concern in his eyes let me know that Rico or James must have texted him and let him know what was happening.
“Aye, what’s going on?” he asked, looking between Teagan and me. I couldn’t speak, half because of the pain and half because of the embarrassment. I didn’t want him to see me like this.
“She’s flaring real bad,” Teagan replied.
“What do I need to do?”
“She needs to lie down. I’m about to transfer her—”
He moved before Teagan could finish her sentence. In two strides, he was at my side, crouching down in front of me.
“Hey, I got you.” He swiped my cheek quickly, and I could feel his arms slide around my back and my knees.
“Quade, wait—” I tried to protest, but the words barely made it out.
“Okay, but keep her upright as much as you can,” Teagan said quickly, stepping aside for him. “Don’t yank her legs. Support her spine. Yeah, just like that.”
“I got her,” he said, and before I could protest or even process what was happening, I was in his arms. His chest was warm, solid, and he held me like I weighed nothing at all.
“Quade,” I whispered weakly. “You don’t—”
“Shhh,” he cut me off, already heading toward the bedroom. “I got you, baby.”
The walk was short, but my entire world tilted.
I hated being seen like this—weak. Of all the times he’d chosen to return, it had to be now.
Sure, he knew my struggles. He’d seen me in pain, but not like this.
This was too much too soon. He lay me down gently on my bed and then reached for the nearest pillow and fluffed it beneath my head.
“You need water?” he asked. “Heating pad? Do we need to call the doctor? Get you to the hospital? Is this because of what we did?”
I stared at him and shook my head. His usually calm demeanor was gone and replaced with worry and concern. Great, Noa, now the man is never going to touch you again. The door creaked open behind him, and Teagan walked in, holding out a glass of water and two pills already in her palm.
“You comfortable, Sis?” she asked as she approached the bed.
“Yeah, just in pain,” I replied.
“Well, the meds will help some. Open up.” I opened my mouth and allowed my sister to place the meds in my mouth, followed by a swig of water.
I swallowed, hoping to feel some relief soon.
“I’m about to call Dr. Easton and see if she wants you to come in.
I’ll be back.” Teagan stepped away from the bed and made her way to the door.
“Quade, are you good to stay with her until I come back?”
“I got her. I ain’t going nowhere,” he replied, and Teagan nodded as she walked out the door, leaving Quade and me alone.
“You want a blanket?” he asked. “A heating pad? Shit, I can send Rico and James to the store.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay.”
“Alright.” He hesitated as he just stood there, watching me.
His eyebrows were balled up, and his lips were parted like he wanted to say something but didn’t know what to say.
I was watching him, in real time, see all of my broken pieces, everything I carried on a daily basis.
His eyes glazed over my trembling hands, and my chest hurt…
not from lupus but from the weight of this moment.
“I could rub your back,… shoulders, maybe. I mean,… do massages help? I ain’t trying to make it worse, but just—”
“You can’t fix this, Quade.” My voice was hoarse.
“This is my life. This is lupus.” I swallowed the lump in my throat as my eyes focused on him as he stood there, trying to do everything to fix me when nothing could be done.
He looked so helpless standing at the foot of my bed, rocking side to side like he didn’t know where to put his hands, and it broke me because I knew this part.
This was the part people didn’t stay for, the part where people chose to bail out.
“Some days,… I’m okay. Some days, I’m not. You don’t have to keep… offering yourself up to fix something that can’t be fixed.”
His jaw tightened, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He just walked over to the other side of the bed and peeled back the covers.
“Can I…?”
My eyes darted to him, and he nodded toward the bed.
I swallowed hard and let him know it was okay to join me.
He kicked off his boots and climbed in carefully, like he didn’t want to disturb me.
I expected him to wrap his arms around me, but he didn’t.
He didn’t even get close to me. He just lay back on the pillow next to mine and crossed his arms over his chest, probably thinking of a way to let me down easy.
“I understand if this is too much. Dating the sick girl is… a lot.”
He turned his head to look at me. For a moment, he didn’t say a word, just stared like he couldn’t believe I’d even said that.
“Nah. Don’t do that,” he finally spoke. “You ain’t too much; you just been through some shit…”
I blinked, confused, not at his words but at the fact he was rhyming. Was he rapping to me?
“I ain’t scared of the dark, baby girl, ’cause I’ve been through that shit. You still a queen. You just hurting a little bit. That’s gangsta shit.”
My breath caught somewhere foreign, and I gazed into his eyes as he continued.
“She said she don’t need fixin’… her pain, she holding. You ain’t too much, baby. You perfect. You fly through storms…broken wings still workin’ I ain’t your cure, but I’m hopin’. Me and you together… we pretty little birds, out here swervin’.”
I closed my eyes. God, this man is everything. I didn’t want to cry in front of him, but I couldn’t help it. The lyrics, his words, were just so beautiful. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, and he wiped it with his thumb.
“You really just rapped to me?” I asked. I was stunned.
“It was the only thing I could think to do to make you smile.” He shrugged, and the corners of my mouth turned up.
“Well, it worked, so thank you,” I said, and he closed the space between us, but he didn’t touch me, and I appreciated that.
Touch when I was flaring was sometimes intolerable.
Just having his body near me was enough to calm the aches shooting through me.
The door cracked open, and Teagan peeked her head in.
“Oop!” she said with a laugh. “This is a new development. Baby, that date must have been something.”
“Tea!” I called her name before she said something crazy.
“Don’t mind me. I just came to tell you what Dr. Easton said.
” She stepped in a little bit, and I could see Rico and James standing in the hall behind her.
“It’s the same as usual. She says this sounds like an exertion-induced flare, and with all you had going on yesterday, you probably just need to rest. She wants you hydrated, pain meds every six hours, and a muscle relaxer twice a day until you feel better. ”
“Does she need to go in?” Quade asked, concerned.