12. Layla
Chapter Twelve
Layla
Nerves hit me like a freight train when I heard the knock on my apartment door.
I was very anxious about seeing Kellan. Things had been so easy between us last week, but I knew how awkward it would be now that the big C was out of the bag.
Instead of merely invading my body, cancer was taking over my life, spreading into every conversation, thought, or touch.
Had Kellan handled it well thus far? Yes, but this was simply the beginning of a long road. I couldn’t forget that he hardly knew me. We’d had a few days of fun, not all of this serious stuff.
At least Patty had done an amazing job with my hair, and I’d gone ahead and applied my makeup. I felt somewhat back to myself.
I opened the door to his gorgeous face. Not for the first time, I wished the circumstances could be different. That we could be back in the hotel room our first night together where I was pretending I wasn’t sick, and he still thought I was sexy.
He stepped through the entry without hesitation, put the large plastic bag he’d been holding on the floor, and shut the door. Then he framed my face and went in for a kiss.
I stood there stunned until his warm lips demanded I participate. His tongue swept mine while he stole my breath with a kiss that rocked my very world.
Pulling back, he kept one hand on the side of my face in an intimate gesture. “Hi.”
The normal response would’ve been to say hi back or grin silly at being kissed like that. Instead, a tear broke free. I could see the instant he spotted it, concern replacing the initial happiness in his expression.
“Hey, now. There’s no crying in kissing. If so, then I’m probably not doing it right.” He rubbed his thumb across my cheek to catch the drop.
“No. You’re doing everything right. It’s me who’s the problem,” I whispered.
“How’s that possible?”
“I—I didn’t want to see you because I’d convinced myself it would be painfully awkward. Then you come in and kiss me like I don’t have cancer.”
I’d convinced myself he would no longer see me as the same person. That somehow I was now damaged goods and would no longer be attractive to him.
“In a few months that will be a true statement, but until that point, you having cancer doesn’t change how beautiful you are, how much I missed you, or how I couldn’t wait to kiss you again.”
Jesus. I was about to cry harder if he kept saying things like that. “I don’t know how you always manage to say the perfect thing, but I’m sorry I waited to see you.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m here now. With sushi.” He bent down and picked up the bag. “You hungry?”
“Yeah. I am, actually.”
He walked into the kitchen with the bag he’d brought. I loved the way he made himself at home. It made me forget for a moment I wasn’t standing there after a double mastectomy, struggling with my self-worth.
He searched the cabinets before pulling down a couple plates. “Is this your stuff, or is it a furnished apartment?”
I took a seat on one of the two stools at the breakfast bar so I could face him. “Furnished. Most of my stuff is in boxes in a storage facility outside of LA.”
“This place is ideally close to the hospital. Russ mentioned you have a nurse checking in on you?”
I appreciated the way this conversation didn’t seem awkward in the least. Even when it revolved around the subject of my recovery. “Yes. Patty is awesome. She went through breast cancer, too. Fourteen years ago.”
“I bet it’s nice to have someone to talk to who’s been through it. How badly is your mom bugging you?”
I watched him parse out what looked to be tuna, salmon, and rainbow rolls.
“She’s insisting on dinner Sunday night as it’s the eve before I start chemo, but I’ve convinced her Saturday is better.
I’ve been told to avoid foods I love the night and morning of chemo because of the nausea.
Otherwise I’ll forever be associating them with the sick feeling. ”
“Good way to cut some things out of your diet, huh?”
“Probably. I’m already giving up alcohol, caffeine, and processed sugar. I’m still working on the last one.”
He frowned. “My candy bar bouquet did you no favors. Sorry.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be. It was one of the few pleasures about the hospital.”
“I read that chemo does a number on your taste buds.”
My gaze met his, and I realized what his statement actually meant. “You were reading up on it?”
He sighed, pushing a plate full of delicious sushi toward me. “Do you prefer to eat here, or are you more comfortable on the sofa?”
He seemed anxious to change the subject. “Sofa would be better.” I needed back support, and the stool wasn’t giving it to me.
“You get comfortable, and I’ll serve.”
I sat down and got situated while he placed a pillow next to me and then put the plate on top of it.
My whole body suddenly felt tense. Taking a breath, I tried to figure out why—then it hit me.
He’d talked to my brother about my nurse.
He’d read up on my type of cancer. I braced myself for the inevitable unsolicited advice or the assumptions about how I should feel.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Water is good, thank you.”
He sat down, putting the glass on a coaster to my side, leveling me with a look. “I read up on it because I want to learn more about it, not because I plan to start modern jackassing your treatment or decisions. I hope you believe that.”
“What in the world is modern jackassing?”
His grin was adorable. “The guy who decides he’s an expert on something because he read an article.
You’ve met the type. You’re talking about chain-link fencing, and all of a sudden this guy jumps in as the resident expert.
What I’m saying is I’m not researching for any other reason than to try to get a clue as to what’s in store for you.
Knowledge makes me less anxious about it, I guess. ”
“Thank you,” I murmured. Taking a bite of sushi, I enjoyed the flavors that hit my tongue and relaxed.
Considering how very little I’d talked to him about my cancer, I couldn’t blame him for feeling the need to do some reading.
“I didn’t mean to get weird, but after my mom started telling me about reading up on urine therapy…
Suffice it to say the Web can be a dangerous place. ”
He paused mid-bite to make a hilarious face that had me laughing.
I winced at my own action, still tender when it came to laughter. “Sorry to blurt that out while we’re eating.”
“It’s okay. This sushi is good enough that I’ll ignore it and keep eating. Since Sunday is bland food day, what’s your last big meal with your family on Saturday going to be?”
“Probably steak. Do you want to come?” The instant the words were out of my mouth, I cringed internally.
I didn’t want him to feel trapped. He didn’t have to keep me company.
Hell, we hadn’t even had a conversation about what this was between us.
I certainly didn’t need a boyfriend right now, of all times.
“I’d love to come, unless the regret etched on your face means you don’t actually want me there.”
“I do, but—”
“But what?”
I wasn’t sure how to verbalize it eloquently, so I chose the blunt version.
“I don’t want you to feel obligated.” I pointed between the two of us.
“This thing has changed, and although it’s really sweet of you to come over and read up on what I’ll be facing, it’s obvious things aren’t the same as they were before the surgery. ”
His face scrunched up in confusion. “What’s obvious, and what’s not working out? I’m sitting here with you eating sushi after having hoped for days I’d be able to see you.”
I shook my head, incredulous that he wasn’t taking this seriously.
“Kellan, I already can’t have sex with you.
In three days’ time, I won’t be able to kiss you, let alone be very good company.
I wish I could press a fast-forward button, but I can’t.
Instead, I’m stuck for the next few months on this merry-go-round of cancer treatments. ”
In his eyes flickered a temper I’d never seen. “So, what? I should get off now? Is that what you’re saying?
“It would be better for you.” Didn’t he see what it was costing me to let him go?
I wanted to be selfish and hang on to him, but I recognized no relationship one week old could sustain this type of change.
Hell, even if I hadn’t found Chad cheating, I doubt we would’ve weathered this storm. It was simply too much.
He leaned forward, ensuring his gaze was locked with mine. “Was I just sex to you?”
How could I answer that? I’d gone into it thinking it was just sex, but it had changed. “No, but—”
“I’ll give you the first night, Layla. We were a one-night stand.
Sure, but the fact is I knew the minute you kissed me in the bar I’d want more.
The morning after, I could see by the way you left that ‘more’ wasn’t part of your plan.
So, I proceeded with baby steps. Another night.
A dinner. A complete day. All of those things were because I desired more with you.
And yes, Friday morning and the truth of your situation threw me for a complete loop.
Cancer isn’t something I could’ve imagined, but it doesn’t mean we can’t keep seeing one another. ”
“You don’t even know the real me.” There, I’d admitted it.
He didn’t quip back with a joke. Instead he took my hand. “I’d argue that I’ve barely scratched the surface of the real you. It’s been a week. Regardless of the circumstances, it would be too early for either of us to truly know each other yet.”
That was a fair point. But I was worried.
In my career choice, my failed relationship, and my priorities in general, I’d obviously made mistakes.
Although cancer was the very worst thing to happen to me, it put shit into perspective real quick.
Right away, I’d realized that my so-called friends, coworkers, and boyfriend weren’t going to be there for me.
So, I was scared. Scared to let anyone new in at this most vulnerable time of my life.