What's Left of Me (10 page)

“No.”
 
I shake my head in disgust.

“Uh huh.
 
Right.”

“I’m just going to go find Genna now.”

She laughs behind me.

I make my way back to Jason’s office.
 
His door is locked.
 
I can hear voices two rooms down, which I believe is where the other exam rooms are.
 
I scoot down the wall, resting on the floor with my head back against the wall, deciding to sit here in the peace and quiet until Genna comes out.

I take my Kindle from my purse so I can get in a chapter or two of this paranormal romance book I can’t seem to get enough of. I’m right at the spot where she’s about to find out who—or what—he really is, when somebody clears their throat. I peek up to see Parker standing there in all of his hot gloriousness.
 
“Hello, Aundrea.”
 
Reaching down, he takes my hand and helps me to my feet.

Parker reaches behind me to unlock the door, then pushes it open and motions me through.
 
I walk past him into Jason’s office.
 
The office is different from when I last saw it.
 
There’s a cherrywood desk directly in front of me with two small, cream-colored chairs sitting directly across from a big black leather chair with a white coat hanging on the back.
 
A small laptop and bronze desk lamp sit next to a tiny green and white plant in a round antique silver base.
 
To my right is a small bookshelf filled with books, a silver digital clock and a picture frame of Parker standing with two other men and one woman.

I turn around quickly at the sight of the picture.
 
“This is your office?” I ask Parker who is just watching me intently.

“Yes.”

“But this was Jason’s.”

“Yes, was.
 
He is now down the hall.”
 
He doesn’t elaborate any further and I don’t ask questions.

“Okay.
 
Well, I better go.
 
I was waiting for Genna.
 
We have plans and we need to get going.”

“They’re just finishing up.
 
Maybe five more minutes?
 
Have a seat.
 
Talk to me for a minute.”

I make my way past a big green plant by the door as I move to sit in one of the chairs.
 
“You want to talk, so talk.”
 
My tone comes out more annoyed than I intend, but I don’t correct it.

Parker closes the door, then walks over and sits on the desk right next to me, completely ignoring the two empty chairs in the room.
 
“I’d like to talk to you about working here.
 
I have a feeling the tutoring”—he makes air quotes as he says “tutoring”—“was fabricated. I hope not on my account?”
 
He quirks an eyebrow up.

“I can’t work around you,” I say truthfully.

“Why not?”

Because with one taste I want more.
 
Then, when I do, the satisfied feeling that overtakes me is an electric high.
 
Something I can’t get enough of.

“You know why.”

“No.
 
Please enlighten me.”
 
He sits back on the desk, crossing his arms in front of him.
 
That stupid sexy grin is back and I want to slap it right off.

“I don’t have to explain myself.
 
It wouldn’t be right working here.
 
Not after we …”
 
I don’t elaborate.
 
I don’t think I need to explain to him what we did.

“After we what, Aundrea?”
 
He leans forward, bringing his face close to mine.

I watch his mouth as he talks, and think how sexy his lips are, poking through the short whiskers that frame his mouth.
 
His beautiful mouth.

Get it together, Aundrea.

“I’m real—”

Cutting me off, he quickly adds in a low, hoarse whisper, “Before you say no
again,
let me tell you that I’ll be on my best behavior the entire time.”
 
I watch as he puts his hands up in the air, as if in a freezing motion, with his lips in a straight line.

“You won’t try to make a move on me?”

“No.”
 
A grin is forming on his face.

“Not once?”

“Well …”
 
The grin becomes wider.
I raise my eyebrows at him, and he sighs.
 
“Okay. Okay.
 
I won’t make a move after you agree.”

“Promise?”

“Scouts’ honor.”
 
He holds up two fingers.
 
I’m pretty sure the Scout salute is three fingers.

Standing up from the chair, I bend to pick up my purse.
 
I need to move away from him.
 
Get some space.
 
I can feel the heat coming off of him and I can’t think straight with him so close to me.

Before I can reach my purse, Parker grasps my arm and pulls me toward him.
 
He gets a grip on my waist, twisting me into him and locking his mouth to mine while bringing his right hand behind my head, holding me in place.
 
My hands come up to his chest to push him back, but as I feel his tongue push into my mouth, deepening the kiss, I lose all control and lean into him. I grip his shirt, pulling him closer to me.
 
Our mouths move together while our tongues continue to explore.

Parker groans when I pull his tongue into my mouth and start to suck on it.
 
I remember he really liked it when I did that.
 
His hands leave my waist and head.
 
Before I know what’s happening, he’s standing and turning me so that my back ends up flat against his desk moving his hand under my shirt, brushing my skin with his fingertips until his hand reaches my breast.
 
He cups it with his hand, squeezing it hard and causing me to let out a soft cry.

I feel the tingle of his whiskers brushing against my neck as he trails light kisses from my ear down to my collarbone.

“God, Aundrea.
 
You smell so good.
 
Like … sweet pears.”

I can’t help the moan that escapes my mouth as his hand slides into my bra, pinching my nipple.
 
As if that’s his cue, he roughly brings his mouth back to mine.

The ache between my legs meets the hardness between his.
 
There isn’t anything I want more than to feel him inside me.
 
I lift my legs up and start to wrap them around his waist, needing to be closer to him.
 
He reaches back and grabs my legs, securing me tightly to him.

“I want you so bad.
 
Right now, Aundrea.
 
Right.
 
Fucking.
 
Now.”

His words break the hazy cloud clogging my brain, and I muffle his name between our locked lips.
 
My voice comes out raspy, begging rather than getting his attention to stop.
 
Breaking the kiss, I grab Parker’s hand still squeezing my breast.

“Parker,” I say firmly.
 
He doesn’t hear me, or just ignores me and moves his face into the crook of my neck, kissing me more.
 
The stubble from his facial hair sends shivers down my spine.

“Parker,” I say a little louder this time, followed by a push to his chest. “We need to stop.”

Parker stops kissing me at the word stop and slowly stands up, panting as he releases my legs.

I stand up, fixing my shirt and running my fingers through my hair.
 
“You said you wouldn’t make a move after I agreed.”

“Yes.
 
After
you agreed.
 
I didn’t want you to agree yet, so I could do that.”

I don’t speak.
 
I just stand there in front of him, panting for air and trying to calm myself after that kiss.

With two large strides, he’s right in front of me.
 
He moves a piece of my hair off my face, reminding me of our dance the night we met.

“What do you say, Aundrea?
 
Will you work here?
 
With me?” he whispers at my mouth.

I’ll say anything you want.
 
“Yes.”

 
I can’t believe I’ve just agreed to this.

“It’ll be fun,” he says with a wink.

Fuck.

When Genna and I make our way into the Mayo Clinic, she talks about running to the store to pick up some juice and crackers for me. I don’t pay her much attention.
 
I just keep saying yes.

I get seated in a big, blue, cloth chair after my check-up with one of the oncologists.
 
The nurse asks me to verify my full name, date of birth, and allergies.

“Aundrea Leigh McCall.
 
March 14,1992.
 
No allergies that I’m aware of.”

She explains the drugs I’ll be getting and to expect my first round to last three hours.
 
I don’t know why they tell me the names because I’ll never remember.
 
They’re these long names that I could never pronounce correctly.
 
I don’t even know if the nurse pronounces them correctly or if she just sounds smart.

Normally the nurse applies a topical numbing cream over the port so that when they put the needle through the skin I won’t feel it, but I don’t have her apply it.
 
The pain of a needle stick is nothing.
 
Not after having a needle the size of my forearm shoved into my pelvic bone to take out my bone marrow cells!
 
Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but the needle was seriously long!

After I’m hooked up and the drugs are flowing, I try to sit back and close my eyes.
 
Relax a little.

When you get chemo, the offices usually have a light side and a dark side. One half is where patients can sleep or rest, and the other half is where they can read or talk to other patients.

I choose the lighter side.
 
I can’t rest after my encounter with Parker.
 
My body is still quivering from his touch, and as much as I try to come down from my Parker high, I can’t stop smiling.
 
His parting words, “It’ll be fun,” won’t leave my mind.
 
There is no doubt that working in the same space as him will be anything less than fun.

I’m still trying to get over the fact that I let him practically take me on his desk like that.
 
What the hell is wrong with me?
 
When he is near me, I’m no longer myself.
 
I swear, he has some type of power over me.
 
Okay, now my fictional life is becoming a part of my reality. Great!
 
This is why my mom always tells me not to get so caught up in my books.
 
Soon you won’t be able to tell what’s real and what’s not because you’ll just be living in that head of yours!

An hour later, the smile is finally wiped off my face as I reach for the trashcan and start to throw up.
 
The nurse makes her way over to me and gives me something through my IV.

“There you go, honey.
 
I gave you something for nausea.
 
That should help.”

I try to say thank you, but the heaving won’t stop.

Normally the getting sick part doesn’t happen until that night or the next day.
 
Why it’s happening now, I have no clue.
 
Maybe it’s the higher dosage of drugs.
 
Maybe it’s my nerves kicking in.
 
I’m not sure.

After a short while, I stop throwing up just in time for Genna to show up.

“How are you doing?”
 
She sits in the chair next to me, pulling out some crackers and apple juice and handing them to me.

Well, let’s see!
 
I have tubes going into my body that are hooked up to a machine pumping toxins into me to kill off cells, all while being completely nauseated. Yup, I’m fantastic.
 
Pull out the tea and cookies.
 
Let’s have a party!

“I’ve had better days.”

“I’m sorry.
 
The nurse said you threw up already?”

“Yeah, I think it was just because I didn’t have breakfast.”

Even though I’ve been through this before, a part of me can’t help but be scared.
 
It’s the unknown.
 
I don’t know what to expect this time.
 
My oncologist, Dr. Olson, has tried to prepare me for this round of chemo, explaining that because it’s a higher dose I’ll be sicker than I’ve been before.
 
The good news—yes, there’s good news in all of this—is it should only last a week; maybe a little over.
 
Then I’ll feel fine until my next round.
 
So, basically, I’ll have chemo, be sick for a week, have a week of feeling okay, and then have chemo again.
 
Oh, and that’s all if it goes according to Dr. Olson’s plan.