Complex Kisses (Here & Now Book 1) Page 3

  The truly messed up part? I still don’t have a lot of the answers to those questions. I’m not even sure if there are answers.

  What I do know - a lot of things have lost their importance to me. The so-called perfect job, the cookie cutter girlfriend who loved the idea of marriage more than she actually loved me, the coveted Toronto waterfront condo, all the other bullshit material things that I’d strived for - not important.

  I shed the weight of those unimportant things, hoping to stay afloat.

  That was five months ago. Done dwelling on it, I don’t want to waste another moment questioning what I thought was right, or where I might have gone wrong. Now I’m focused on my family and making it through one day at a time. Today might be my only shot, so I’m going to focus on making it count. Some would call this living in the moment. I call it surviving.

  Each new day conquered feels like a small victory, until I’m faced with the next day and start the crusade all over again. But even with all my good intent, some days are harder to live through than others. Some moments can be really fucking depressing.

  Today, for example, has been a real bitch. Caleb’s hospital room is like a torture device, where I feel like I’m being slowly suffocated. My mother’s been holding back tears all day and my dad looks like he’s going to pass out from exhaustion. The nurses have been coming and going with renewed vigor, checking Caleb’s vitals and monitoring his every breath, getting him ready for the treatment he’ll start today. He’s being prepped for a bone marrow transplant that will hopefully help cure his cancer but first he’ll undergo some very serious, high-dose chemotherapy and radiation. The whole process puts him at high risk of possibly life-threatening infection. It will take weeks for him to start feeling better, and then months of follow-up care.

  We’re all hoping and praying that this drastic process will be the answer.

  We’ve been hopeful before. His first round of treatment was supposed to be the cure. When that was unsuccessful we put all our stock into the second round, which also failed. So, while wishing for the best, we’ve been mentally preparing for the worst.

  It feels like we’re prepping for doomsday.

  Meanwhile, Caleb’s the one trying to cheer us up. The kid’s fighting off cancer, yet he constantly puts on a brave face, working to make everyone else feel better. He’s the strongest person I’ve ever known. It kills me that I could lose him.

  Unable, or maybe just unwilling to face another hard truth today, I find myself seeking momentary distraction. Wandering aimlessly around the hospital I take every interesting pathway possible. I ignore everyone around me but pay close attention to details of the building architecture and color scheme. The walls of this place are like blank slates, begging for inspiration. The one lone tree growing in the center of the concrete courtyard is such a vibrant contrast to the grey and dismal, I’m tempted to draw it or capture it on film. I haven’t paid attention to my creative urges in a long, long time. Right now, they’re the only thing keeping me from thinking about all the other shit.

  I do not want to think. Not about a single thing. Not cancer. Not death. Nothing.

  Maybe it’s my empty brain, or perhaps it’s that mystical unknown force entering my life again - whatever the cause, I give thanks when I’m practically run-over by the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Beautiful Jamie.

  Caleb has some damn good taste in women. I wasn’t surprised at all when I found him chatting her up yesterday. He’s got a habit of finding the best looking woman in a room and hitting on her mercilessly. That shit is really, hilariously predictable from him.

  What stunned me was Jamie herself.

  Yes, her beauty is breathtaking. Even without a halo of light, she has this angelic look about her - all soft and innocent. Her bright blue eyes sparkle when she laughs, her smile emphasized by full and perfect lips.

  But what really caught my attention was her interaction with Caleb. Most people either avoid looking at him altogether or can’t stop themselves from staring. Even worse are the people who want to treat him like a china doll, afraid that talking too loud or acting too happy might be the thing to break him. But Jamie didn’t have the typical reaction. She wasn’t fazed by his appearance. She didn’t treat him like a sick kid. She treated him like any other fourteen-year-old boy. Well, considering how wildly inappropriate he can be, maybe not exactly like any other fourteen-year-old. But even his hardcore flirtation hadn’t seemed to throw her off. The way she goofed around with my sick little brother showed me this woman holds a beauty, far beyond the physical.

  And now she’s in my arms, crying into my chest. The feeling of holding her here, completely un-fucking-real. Her misery seems a reflection of my own sorrow and for a moment I want nothing more than to break down with her. But I stay strong, allowing her tears to express the despair I’m feeling.

  As she falls apart in front of me, my protective instincts are triggered. Despite not knowing anything about her situation, I have the immediate urge to find the guy she mentioned yesterday, the one who might not be missing her, and kick his ass. Whether or not that asshole is the cause for her breakdown doesn’t really matter. I just know that a girl like Jamie shouldn’t have to question her man’s loyalty. Like I told her yesterday, he’s a total fool if he’s not missing her. Also, it’d feel really good to beat someone senseless right now. Violence isn’t my normal response to any situation, but just the thought of anyone hurting this girl, intentionally or otherwise, and I’m ready to knock skulls.

  That seems like a crazy reaction since I barely met her a day ago. Hell, I can count all the facts I know about her on one hand.

  Her full name is Jameson - Jamie for short.

  She has a good sense of humor, laced with sarcasm.

  She’s sad.

  Chocolate is her favorite.

  She’s missing a guy.

  There are too many things that I don’t know, and a lot of things I want to find out.

  With her sobs quieting, I realize that I’ve been absentmindedly rubbing her back. Intentional or not, my hands want to explore every inch of her, to soothe and caress her. They seem to recognize the opportunity they’ve been given and are already addicted to the silken feeling of her hair, and the soft curve of her slender shoulders. My arms have a mind of their own as well, pulling her closer until the swell of her breasts presses into me with every breath she takes.

  She fits so perfectly, tucked away under my chin, shielded from the world. I want to stay locked together with her like this, forever. Even though everything in my life’s so horribly wrong, in this moment, she and I together, feels tremendously right. It’s intimate in a way that’s comforting but also really damn enticing. I don’t want to let go of that feeling. I don’t want to let go of her.

  Slowly she calms. Her final few cries vibrating through me, connecting us in shared sadness.

  When her cries turn to sniffles, her body begins to stiffen. Maybe she’s not as comfortable with our intimacy as I am. She begins shifting slowly away from me. Reluctantly, I allow her some breathing room. It’s just enough to separate our bodies, and to let me look down into her gorgeous, tear stained face. She stares, frowning at the front of my shirt, soaked from her crying.

  “I’m sorry.” She attempts to free an arm and wipe at her face.

  Instead of letting her go, I strengthen my grip. The need to maintain contact with her is inexplicable. It’s feels like letting her go now could mean losing her forever. Like the next breakdown could be my own.

  “I’m not normally a crier.” She fakes a dry laugh. “I don’t even know what that was about.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Excuse me?” Her eyes meet mine, with excessive indignation.

  “You heard me. I call bullshit. I believe that you probably don’t cry that much - you seem like a tough girl. But tough girls don’t cry without knowing the reason. Something’s upset you, and I bet you know exactly what it is. Or who it is.” I firmly let her know
she can’t fool me with her lie.

  “Is it a family trait then?”

  Confused, I simply raise an eyebrow in question.

  “Your brother yesterday, and now you. You’re both so brazen. But at least he was nice about it …” Her voice is jagged, sounding hurt and rejected.

  “I’m not nice?” I have to laugh at this. Most of my life I’ve probably been too nice for my own good. “Jamie, I just let you snot all over my favorite t-shirt. How am I the bad guy here?”

  In contrast to her feisty words, she looks adorably embarrassed. Her cheeks are splotched red from crying, her eyes huge, and her bottom lip captured seductively between her teeth. Her slightly disheveled appearance, adding to the allure. I can easily picture this as what she’d look like after sex. Hot as fuck.

  The timing may be insanely wrong but I can’t stop imagining the things I want to do with her mouth. Those lips are luscious. The way she’s biting the bottom one, all innocently provocative, makes me want to take a taste.

  Could I be more inappropriate? I feel like a goddamn teenager, my mind stuck on sex, despite being a grown fucking man. And this is definitely not the right time for that.

  “Look.” I try changing course, moving my mind in a more suitable direction. “I don’t need to know the details of your life but please don’t feel the need to lie to me about it. It’s okay that you cried. And it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me about it. You don’t know me. I get it.”

  The raw emotion on her face is almost unbearable. She looks so fragile, like she could fall apart again at any moment. I don’t want that. Honestly, I’m not certain how much more emotion I can handle. As driven as I feel to make things better for her, the dark cloud looming over us is too much of a reminder that I have some heavy shit of my own. I need to lighten the mood, just a little.

  Keeping a straight face, I do my best to channel my inner Caleb. “Can I ask you a really big favor?” Pausing for dramatic effect, I study her reaction closely as I say, “I think I might need to borrow a shirt.”

  She bursts out laughing, just like she did yesterday with my little brother. It’s like music to my ears. Crazily, I love that I’m the one who made her laugh. I’m the one who brought the light back to her eyes. And all it took was one stupid joke.

  “What?” I continue without humor, “You don’t have anything my style?” I can’t help a smile of my own from sneaking out. “I’m not picky on color. I just need one that isn't covered in tears please.”

  Clutching at her stomach, her giggles echoing down the hallway, Jamie becomes infectious, and I find myself laughing right alongside her.

  This feels good.

  It feels really goddamn good to be doing something normal, like laughing with a beautiful girl. Our laughter intensifies, forcing me to let go of her. I’m not sure that we’re really laughing at my lame attempt at humor anymore. It feels like we’re tumbling over the edge of sanity.

  Stepping back, Jamie practically doubles over in her hysteria. “Stop. Please stop,” she cries.

  “Shit, I’m sorry,” I puff out.

  She wobbles a bit on her feet. Reaching out to steady herself, she lands her palm on my chest, directly over my heart. My laughter dies instantly as the heat from her touch radiates through me. Something so perfectly innocent, and I’m completely lost to it.

  Lost to her.

  My sudden quiet has her calming down as well. Straightening her spine, she shakes her glorious mane of white blonde hair out. Leveling her shoulders, she unknowingly puts her perfect tits into my full focus. My body instantly reacts to the memory of feeling her pushed up against me. And now I have a craving for more.

  Overloaded by desire, I cover her hand with my own, trapping her palm roughly to my chest. Her eyes widen when she once again catches my gaze. Maybe she can sense the lust pouring out of me. Maybe she can feel the energy vibrating between us, like a hum of electricity ready to light us up. Staring back at me, she looks just as lost and turned on as I feel. She looks perfect. And, with her bottom lip snagged back between her teeth, incredibly appetizing.

  When she shifts, like she might take a step toward me, I release her hand and take a step back.

  It’s just too much. Way too fucking much. I have to remind myself that this is not the time or the place. Besides, there’s another guy in her life. Someone she’s missing. Someone she may have very well been crying over just a few minutes ago. Add up everything else that’s going on in my life and this situation is just completely fucked up.

  “Hey,” I croak. Clearing my throat, I try again, “So if you feel up to it, maybe you could pop in and say hi to Caleb? He’s been a bit bummed today. Not that anyone can tell. But, I know he’d get a kick out of you actually showing up in his room.”

  “Oh!” She looks a bit thrown off by my request. Or maybe it’s from all the hormones still surging through the air. “Would that be okay? I think I’d actually really like that. He was so nice to me yesterday. He seems like a really good kid.”

  I think she might be the perfect woman.

  “He’s an amazing kid. And it would be awesome if you could.”

  “Yeah, well let me just go wash my face and stuff. I wouldn’t want to freak him out with my puffy eyes and runny nose.”

  “You look fantastic. But do whatever you need.”

  Quickly, she ducks her head, moving back toward the washrooms.

  “Oh! Hey, Jamie!” I call out as she rushes away.

  “Yeah?” She whips around, eyes still wide.

  “My parents are here too. If you don’t mind, it might be a good idea not to mention how hard Caleb was hitting on you yesterday. My mother isn’t really aware of his depraved ways. It might shock her a bit more than she can handle right now.”

  “I’m sure I can keep it under wraps,” she laughs. “But do you think Caleb can?”

  “Ha! Good point.”

  “I’ll be back in a minute. Wait for me?”

  I can’t help the huge smile that’s plastered on my face. “Of course. I’ll be right here whenever you’re ready.”

  And I mean it. I think I might be willing to wait here forever. It’s an absolutely crazy thought that has no right being in my screwed-up head, yet there it is.

  She turns her reddened face away, rushing quickly down the hall, taking her beauty and my breath away with her.

  Jamie

  Eric waited, just like he said he would. He looks like he hasn’t moved an inch, and I’m so glad because I’m not sure if I would have the nerve to walk into Caleb’s room alone. The thought of seeing him lying in his hospital bed, hooked up to beeping machines, looking like my father, has me scared half to death.

  That pain in my chest? Yeah, it’s back full force. I put my hand over my heart just to be sure it doesn’t leap out of my chest. Shaking so badly I can feel my hand vibrating against my breastbone, I hope my nerves aren’t obvious. I don’t want to make Caleb feel bad, like I’m afraid to see him, even though I am.

  Eric’s hand lands softly on my lower back as he opens the door, leading me in. Even through my nervousness, I can’t ignore the heat of that strong, masculine hold. He’s barely touching me but I’m having a hard time focusing on anything else. Maybe that’s a good thing. I find his touch calming, reminding me of how it felt to be wrapped in his arms. Warm and secure.

  “Look who I found!” Eric proudly announces as we walk into the room.

  Three expectant faces look over to us as we approach.

  I’m relieved to see that Caleb looks the same as I remembered. Yes, he’s in a hospital bed surrounded by machines with tubes sticking out of him. He’s still bald, pale, and obviously sick looking. But the only thing I notice is the brilliant and mischievous grin on his young, handsome face.

  His parents, on the other hand, both look a little confused. Their bewilderment is enhanced by weariness, etched into their features. His mother looks especially drained, like every last one of her nerves has been shot.

 
“Wow! My day is complete!” Caleb exclaims exuberantly. Perhaps a little too exuberantly, as the look his mother gives seems a tad disapproving.

  “Mon beau, who is this?” She asks Eric in a heavy francophone accent before turning her beautiful hazel eyes my way. She’s gorgeous. Her thick, dark hair shines brilliantly, even in the dim hospital lighting. Her perfectly arched eyebrows and sculpted cheek bones are likely the envy of many women.

  “Mom. Dad,” Caleb announces brightly, before anyone else can think to speak. “Let me introduce you. This stunning creature is the prettiest woman in this godforsaken hospital. I found her yesterday.” His bright smile banishes my nervousness. “Gorgeous, may I introduce you to my parents, Sylvie and Glenn Anderson.”

  How do I respond to that? Shake hands? With Caleb’s over the top opening I feel like I should be taking a bow.

  With nothing else appropriate, I simply raise my hand and wave. “Hello.”

  “Caleb, man. You suck at introductions,” Eric chuckles.

  “Oh, Come on!” Caleb complains loudly, as Eric pushes me just a little farther into the room.

  “Mom, dad. This is Jamie. I rescued her from your youngest son yesterday. He was assaulting her with his pudding.” Eric states this so earnestly, I can’t help but laugh a little.

  Gasping in mock horror, Caleb fakes a shout, “Liar!”

  “Actually,” I interject, “I’m pretty sure it was Caleb who rescued me yesterday. I was feeling a bit low. He cheered me up. And I’m also pretty sure that the only thing getting assaulted was the pudding.” Everyone in the room smiles at my explanation, especially Sylvie, who has clearly warmed to my tale of her son’s heroics.

  “This is his habit. Cheering people up,” she says. “It’s very nice to meet you, Jamie.”

  “Yes,” Glenn speaks up. His rich, beautifully refined voice is a stark contrast to his understated appearance. He’s not a bad looking man but his only physical resemblance to his children seems to be the forest green of his eyes. It’s obvious that his sons get most of their looks from their mother. “Nice to meet you. May I say, Caleb is quite right, you’re a very striking young woman. I don’t think I’ve seen a prettier face here.” Clearing his throat, he quickly looks to his wife. “Except for you of course, my dear.”