Game Changer (12 page)

“About what?” he asked.

“About the surgery. I'm going to get it. The double mastectomy.”

A slow smile spread on his lips. “Yeah? Wow.” He draped his arm across her shoulders and pulled her close. “Thank God. No more Russian roulette with your life. That was too much stress.”

She smoothed a hand over his chest. Touching him, embracing him, didn't hold the same emotional weight and tension that it had before their disastrous sex. It was nice now, friendly and comforting. “You're right. All that waiting in fear for something bad to happen was hell on me. I don't think I ever realized how much.”

He shook her shoulder. “I was talking about for me with the stress. But, okay, I guess it was a little stressful for you, too.”

She gave him a gentle elbow to the ribs and he released his arm back to his side.

“I only wish I weren't going to be in Miami while you're going through the surgery and recovery. There's nothing I can do to change the shooting schedule.”

She shrugged. “I'll be fine. I have a lot of support. And I already hinted to Kayla that her roommate duties might include helping me out while I'm going through some health issues.”

“You think she'd be up for that?” he asked. “Seems to me like she's only looking for a good time.”

“That's how you come across, too. You and she are kindred spirits.”

He snorted at that. “Don't let Duke hear you say that.”

“My lips are sealed.”

He peeled off the edge of his beer label. “Surgery. Wow.”

“Wow is right. But mastectomies like this don't usually take long to heal. A few weeks, tops, if there are no complications. I'm not going to let it best me, either. Whether the biopsy they'll do on the tissue after the surgery indicates cancer or not. No matter what happens, I'm going to find the joy in life. I know it has to be there, the way everyone here has joy.”

She gestured to the crowd of party guests and continued. “This is I want for myself. You only live once, right? That's what you've been trying to tell me. I've been playing defense, waiting for things to happen to me. Waiting for life to happen to me. You were right about me hiding in my brick fortress like the third little pig afraid of the big, bad wolf. It's time for me to make things happen.”

He gestured to his forearm. “Look. You gave me chills when you said that. I'm so proud of you. What kinds of things are you going to make happen, besides the surgery, of course?”

“Not sure. I think I'll start with making a list of all the stuff I've wanted to do, but have never had the time or was too cheap or too risk-averse to try.”

“Like bungee jumping?”

“Too scary.”

He
tsked
and shook his head. “If you're going to live like you're cheating death, which you are, then you should definitely put bungee jumping on the list. Skydiving, too.” He scooted the cocktail napkin out from under her glass of wine, then produced a pen from his pants pocket. “First off, you need to make a contract with yourself, and I'm going to hold you to it.”

She decided to play along, he was so buoyant about the idea. “Okay.”

“I, Harper Johnson, vow to seize the day and live a life of adventure and joy from this moment forward,” he said as he printed the words in neat letters.

“Add, ‘no fear, no holding back' to the napkin.”

“Got it.” Then he handed her the pen. “Sign it. Then I'll sign it, too, as your witness.”

After he signed it, he trotted back to the self-serve bar and grabbed the wine bottle and a stack of cerulean-blue cocktail napkins.

When he returned, she gestured to the stack of napkins. “Are you going to write me a ‘how to live after you've cheated death' manual?”

He topped off her glass. “We're going to write it together. Right now. Let's make a list of all the things you want to do.”

She loved that idea. The party was jumping and the two of them probably looked really antisocial, especially since Brandon was the guest of honor, but there was nothing she'd rather do at that moment in time than sit with him and plan for her fun, joy-filled future. “Let's call it my bliss list.”

“Love it. What's going on the bliss list first?”

She had to think about that. She'd spent so many years in the bar, her head down, working, that she'd ignored her daydreams and wants to the point of obscurity in her mind.

“Number one, skydiving,” he said, writing it down.

She had always wished she were brave enough to try skydiving, but . . . “Don't you think I'm already busy enough fighting off the reaper with my BRCA1 gene to do something stupid like pay a bunch of money to jump out of an airplane on purpose?”

He slammed the pen down. “Come on. You've got to have that on the list. That was one of the first things I did when I got out of the hospital. There's a charity that helps wounded vets skydive as a way for them to show they're not going to let anything hold them back from living their best lives. Just like you now.”

She patted the back of his hand. “See? You've been where I am, which makes you perfectly suited to be my spirit guide from the great beyond.”

“The great beyond? You mean Florida?”

“Exactly.” She grabbed a new napkin and slid it toward him. “Add charity to the list.”

“What kind of charity?”

“Not sure. I've always wanted to do more for charity but never seem to have the time. Maybe work in a soup kitchen, maybe run in some charity events, maybe even something for breast cancer survivors. I'll have to see what's out there.”

“Fair enough. What else?”

She was starting to get excited, with ideas popping into her head so fast it felt as though she'd opened a faucet in her mind. “Flowers. I love flowers, and instead of waiting for someone who'll buy me flowers, I'm going to start buying them for myself.”

“Got it.” He wrote
buy myself flowers
on a napkin, then added it to the growing stack.

“And I'm going to start burning all the candles I've bought over the years. The ones I keep thinking I'll save for a special occasion, then I never use.”

He gave a dramatic eye roll. “No offense, but these are kind of lame. Think bigger.”

“Fine. Thinking bigger. Oh, I know! I want to catch a fish. Like, a big fish. Maybe one that weighs more than me.”

“That's not what I meant by thinking bigger.”

She snatched up the pen and plucked a fresh napkin from the stack. “You can't help me with this if you're going to get all judgy.”

Leaning sideways, he muscled her off-balance, then pulled the pen out of her hand. “I'm writing. You're thinking. Sorry I got judgy. It's your list and you can put on it whatever you want. And no matter how ridiculous or boring your plans are, I promise to do whatever I can from the great beyond to help you cross them all off. Deal?”

He topped off the declaration with one of his signature panty-melting smiles, complete with dimples and eyes that smoldered with rakish charm. There was a time that his nearness, coupled with that smile and those eyes, would have set her body on fire. But not anymore. Sure, her body still stirred with arousal, because she was female and he was still the hottest man she'd ever laid eyes on, but that was biology and it didn't mean a thing.

She was glad she could call him a friend and she could say that she honestly liked him as a person, something she couldn't have said a week ago.

She stuck her hand out for him to shake. “Now that's a bet I can agree to.”

Presley, Brandon, and Harper arrived back in Destiny Falls at one in the morning. They could've stayed overnight at the lake house, as a lot of the others had, but Brandon hadn't had anything to drink that night but a few sips of his decoy beer, and all three preferred to sleep in their own beds, even if the drive shaved off a few hours of their slumber time.

Harper had the sneaking suspicion that all the good-byes that day had been hard on him. Slipping away in the dead of night was easier on everybody.

Brandon pulled to a stop at Locks, double-parking in front of Presley's car in the packed parking lot. All three got out gingerly, stretching their legs and arms after the two-hour ride.

Locks was still open for another hour and was stuffed with patrons, as usual for this time on a Saturday night during the summer when she'd booked live music. Seeing her home, her beloved brick fortress, glowing like a beacon in the night, put her in a place of peace, despite the din of late-night revelers and the noisy band. She loved coming home to this place.

Presley shuffled in Brandon's direction while holding her shoes in one hand and gave him a hug. “Good-bye, Brandon. Take care of yourself.”

“I will. You, too.”

Presley gave Harper a quick hug, promising to call her later that morning, before she tiptoed on bare feet to her car. Most likely, she hadn't lingered so she could give Harper and Brandon privacy, which Harper appreciated. Presley was such a great friend. The trouble was, everything Harper could think to say to Brandon now that they were alone sounded cheesy or glib.

He tugged a lock of her hair. “There are about ten different clichés I could say to you right now.”

She'd honestly never been aware at how similarly their minds worked. She had no idea she'd like him as a person so much. Thank goodness he'd be gone the next day for good. “I guess this is good-bye,” she said in mock-dramatic breathiness.

“Good one. How about, ‘Until we meet again'?”

They shared a smile. “I like that,” she said.

“It's true. I'm sure I'll be back to visit someday. I've got too many friends here to stay away for too long. And you'd better text me the date of your surgery.”

“I promise I will.”

“Oh, and as your spirit guide from the great beyond, I want photos and updates about your bliss list.”

“Yes, sir.”

He tipped his head toward Locks. “Are you going in through the front door or your private entrance?”

“My private one. I'm not really in the mood for revelry.”

He held out his hand. “I'll walk you there.”

She took his hand and they strolled together around the street side of Locks to where her private entrance was nestled discretely near the alley.

“I'm going to miss you,” she said.

“Like I said before, I'll only be a phone call away, but I'm sorry I can't be here to support you for your surgery.”

“Don't be sorry. I've got a lot of people in my corner to help me out and it's time for you to move on. I get it.”

They stopped in front of her door. When he turned to look at her, darkness had descended over his features. “Just to be clear, I'm moving on from a place, not from my friends.”

“I know. I like that we're friends now. It's easier.”

“I've never wanted to be in the friend zone with a beautiful woman before, but you're right. This is so much easier than being in constant battle with you.”

“I'm not going to be a beautiful woman for much longer.”

“Don't talk like that. Don't think like that, either. It's toxic bullshit that'll only drag you down. You're worth more than that and you need to talk more kindly to yourself. Breasts don't make a woman.”

She gave his chest a playful push. “Says the biggest, most unapologetic lothario I've ever met. I bet every single one of the women on
Meet the Groom
is a thirty-two double D.”

“You're always going to be beautiful. Nothing can change that. Boobs or no.”

So he was going to ignore her dig at his prospective brides. “Have you given them a single thought?”

“Your breasts? Many, many thoughts over the years.”

“No. Your prospective brides on the show.”

“Not really. It's not like I picked the women myself. A casting director did. So if they all end up being big-chested Barbie dolls, then that's not my fault.”

She huffed. Surely they'd asked him what he was looking for in a woman. “In that case, you owe me some juicy behind-the-scenes details about the adventures you'll be going on with your ‘brides.'” She added air quotes to the word, which only seemed fitting. “Especially the crazy ones. I have a special place in my heart for batshit crazy reality-show contestants.”

He winced. “Hopefully they only intersperse a few crazies in the mix. For the ratings.”

“As long as they don't make you keep the crazies in the competition longer than necessary.”

“God, it's so weird to think of them like that, as contestants in a competition where I'm the judge.”

“Both the judge and the prize.”

He shook his head. “Good thing I'm don't mind being objectified for my body.”

There was an unmistakable edge of self-deprecation in his words. He'd always been so preoccupied with preening for and flirting with her that she'd never seen that side of him, the humble side in which he made jokes at his own expense.

“Just think, by the end of July, you might be engaged.”

“That's insane. I can't think about that yet.”

There was nothing left to say. She retrieved her keys from her purse and unlocked her door. He held it open for her. “You've got your list?”

She patted her purse. In the end, they'd filled fifteen napkins with bliss list items. “I do, and I can't wait to get started.”

He put his foot against the door as a stopper, then pulled her into a hug and kissed her hair. The scent of him that once drove her libido crazy now comforted her in its familiarity. His lean, ripped body now seemed a symbol of his inner strength and beauty rather than a virile display of his panty-melting alpha ego.

When the hug ended, he hooked his finger in her top and peered at her cleavage.

“Hey!” She started to wiggle away, until he started talking to her boobs.

“Good-bye, ladies,” he said. “We have to break up because I'm just not that into you anymore. It's a huge turn-off that you're threatening to kill my friend.”

Affection brought a smile to her lips. She was grateful for his lack of sentimentality. It made everything easier, somehow. As though, through his lack of pity, he confirmed her optimism about the future.

With a broad grin, he gathered her in one last hug. “Catch you later.”

On his way to his car, Presley turned right, rolling out of the parking lot and past them, and waved. Brandon pointed at her. “Take care of her,” he called.

Presley gave him a thumbs-up and slowed down. “We all will. Don't worry about that,” she called.

Harper wrapped her arms around her middle. That was sweet of him to say, but Harper was going to take care of herself, just like she always had.