Out of Reach (Love Hurts 2)

“Right, because you always do what I tell you.” He laughed, but let me tuck the blankets back around him.

“That’s different,” I replied smugly, folding his hand into mine. “You’re skin and bones. It’s not like you could stop me.”

“Harsh,” he said, a faint smile on his lips. His gaze fell downward. “Em? Thanks for this. What you and Seth are doing for me means a lot.”

“I know it does.” My voice dropped. The tightness in my chest became more apparent. It was always there: a gnawing feeling, like I was just waiting for something bad to happen. And I guess I was.

I remember the day of his diagnosis like it was yesterday. I remember sitting in that surgery office with him and Deb as the doctor explained how the melanoma they’d found on his little toe had spread to his pancreas. The prognosis wasn’t good, but it could have been worse. There was hope.

Until there wasn’t.

Terminal. Hearing that word, I still clung to hope that a miracle would happen, and that somehow the cancer would shrink. I’d lost my parents; surely life couldn’t be this cruel, could it? I felt awful even thinking about myself. I couldn’t imagine how he must have felt. He’d fought so hard for so long, and to be told there was nothing more they could do . . . how do you process that?

“Em,” Andy said. “Good thoughts, remember?”

I smiled, blinking back tears as I reached inside my jacket pocket and touched the small leather binder. Good thoughts. When it was obvious I wasn’t coping, I’d begun writing down a list of memories, forcing myself to only focus on the good. It had been Andy’s idea, a way for me to remember the time we’d had together; the time we had left. It was my way of staying strong for him, because the last thing he needed was for me to be a broken mess. If I let myself slow down for even a second, then that’s exactly what I’d be.

“Good thoughts,” I mumbled, squeezing his hand.

“This will be great, I promise.” He lifted his hand and let his fingers run through my hair. “You’re so beautiful, Em. Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

“I have a fair idea,” I said, my heart skipping. I leaned down and placed my mouth on his. He kissed me back, his lips softly moving in sync with mine as my fingers raked through his short dark hair. I pulled away and smiled before moving back in for another kiss.

“You can’t get enough of me,” he said tenderly. “See? I’m irresistible.”

“You are,” I agreed, giggling. I stood back up, resting my back against the open door of the car, my hand still draped in his.

But behind my laughter was pure agony, because every kiss left me wondering if there would be another. Every moment we spend together could well be our last, and that meant I had to make every moment count.

Chapter Three

Seth

“All done.”

“Did you read it?” asked Andy, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course I did.” I retorted. I shook my head and opened the driver’s side door. “Your mom is going to me calling non-fucking-stop once she realizes you’re gone.”

“Yeah. She’s going to be pissed,” he agreed.

That was the understatement of the century.

I slid inside and shut the door, starting up the car as Em slipped in beside me. Her blue eyes met mine and she smiled, running her fingers through her long, dark hair. God, how I longed to be the one doing that. Touching her. Kissing those plump, red lips. I loved the way she smiled. And the way her bottom lip caught under her tooth when she was nervous or deep in thought.

“Dude,” Andy’s voice sliced through my thoughts. “Are you trying to get me caught?”

“Sorry,” I muttered, stepping on the accelerator. My eyes fell on Em’s long, slender fingers as she reached for the stereo knob. Her nails were painted a light pink. I smiled as Jesse’s Girl blared through the speakers.

How appropriate. If I had an anthem, this song would be it.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I saw Andy was fast asleep. We’d barely made it out of his street, and he was out like a light. I glanced at his chest, watching for a sign that he was still breathing. Still alive. I sighed with relief when a burst of air exited his lungs.

“I do that, too.”

I glanced sideways at Em, who was watching me. The sadness in her eyes made me hurt. My chest burned like I’d swallowed a cup full of battery acid.

“Every night, I watch him sleep. He looks so peaceful that I have to check . . . to make sure . . .” She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to. We both knew what she meant.