“Ouch.” Wes winced.
“Right. It’s like cutting off a dog’s balls without putting him to sleep first. She didn’t even give me a warning, just a ‘hey, you’re nice’.”
“Still recovering?” Wes asked.
“I may whore around later this week to prove a point.” Gabe gave a half hazard shrug. “We’ll see.”
“Men are animals,” Lisa said coming back into the main room. “Alright, I’ve got chocolate, fruity drinks, and the movie. Anything else?”
“I think we’re good.” Wes wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. I noticed Gabe watching us, but it wasn’t with jealousy. It was more like concern, which in turn made me want to feel concerned too.
Wes stumbled a bit as we made our way to the couch.
“Hey.” I steadied him. “You okay?”
“Fine.” But he was pale again. “I just… can I use your bathroom?”
“Sure,” Lisa spoke up. “You can go through either one of our rooms. We share a bathroom, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Cool, thanks.” He got up from the couch, still unsteady on his feet, and made his way to my room.
“He okay?” Lisa asked me.
“I’m sure he’s just tired,” I lied. Curious myself as to why a six-five, perfectly healthy quarterback would suddenly look like he’d been drinking all night long.
“Be right back.” Gabe shot up from his seat and went the same direction Wes had.
“Uh-oh,” Lisa murmured. “That can’t be good.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Time was running out fast. I could feel i
t from the tingling in my hands to the erratic beating of my heart — why was I suddenly finding it so damn hard to realize the end was near? Probably because she made me feel new—like a new beginning.
Weston
I gripped the counter and told myself to keep all the contents of my stomach in, instead of out.
My cell rang.
David.
I pressed ignore and started my typical breathing exercises. It wasn’t healthy for me to panic. In and out, in and out. I held my breath and chanced another look in the mirror.
My phone went off again. This time it was James.
Time for your next set of meds.
Right, like I wanted to take more pills that made me feel shittier, and quite possibly would ruin my date.
I’m fine. I texted back and slipped the phone into my pocket.
I flexed my arms as I braced the counter and breathed in and out through my nose as the nausea came and went. I couldn’t go on like this. The last set of drugs before Christmas were supposed to be the strongest, the doctor’s final hat trick, only I was worried they were hurting more than helping. If I had to keep taking them I wouldn’t be able to play football. I wouldn’t be able to run. I wouldn’t be able to live. I’d be lying in bed sick as a dog as the days ran into each other, until finally, I just didn’t wake up.
“Hey.” The door pushed open. Gabe walked himself right in and shut the door behind him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Not the time, Gabe.”