Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

LANDON

I n the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face, hoping to jolt some sanity back into my system. When Lily talked passionately about protecting kids, all I wanted to do was lean over, grab her, and kiss her. The urge is still there now. I splash more water on my face.

Now or never … Months, not years …

She looked so damn disappointed when I told her I'm a divorce lawyer. I never thought one look from a woman could have me rethinking all my life's choices, but Lily did it.

Finally, I leave the bathroom, part of me hoping in some twisted way that she's run out on me. Maybe she's sensed this uncharacteristic attraction in me. Perhaps she can feel how badly I want her on a physical level and how interested I am in every other way, too.

"So, what else about The Bear?" she murmurs, offering me a tight smile when I sit down.

"So far, the mob connection is all I have," I reply. "It hasn't brought me any closer to being able to stop this crap. If anything, it's more like a warning. I should stop."

"Are you going to?" she asks. "It would be the logical thing to do, right?"

It's the word I used with her to describe the path my life has taken. That was the truth. Dad's always been logical, and I followed him without thinking. Also, the extra money from my business has gone to charity. Logic, logic, logic …

"Fuck no," I say, causing her to smile brightly. It feels like a gift. "Maybe they've got the law in their pocket. Maybe it's dangerous, but I've spent too many years sleepwalking through life. Not anymore."

"A-freaking-men!" she beams, picking up her glass and raising it on a toast.

I raise mine, too.

Soon, it's time to leave. I've given her all the information about The Bear that I can. We walk together across the lot toward my car. Seeing it through her eyes, the sleek vehicle with tinted windows and custom silver rims seems gaudy, almost offensive. She's struggling to help families, and here I am, decked out like a pimp.

She says nothing when I hold the door open for her. I can feel the heat of her body. It's like some part of her is calling to me, tempting me. That sounds like voodoo crap— some part of her . However, I feel it all the same. Maybe it's how suddenly real and meaningful life seems.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks after a few minutes without talking.

I can't tell her the truth. I can't tell that all I can image is what it would be like to lean into her, those moments before the kiss when it's all anticipation and heat. I can't tell her I was imagining squeezing her bare leg, watching her thick creaminess turn red with lust for me.

"The future," I say. The last thing I should think of since there's only one way it ends now. "And the past, and how, often, people take time for granted. It should sound very intellectual and insightful, but it's just a cliché."

"Clichés exist for a reason," she says softly. "Often, they're true."

Yeah, like the cliché of a man sleepwalking through life with no idea what he's missing until a medical emergency finally snaps him back to reality.

"I didn't realize it when I was young, even after Charley."

"Charley?" she asks.

"My older brother. He died of a sudden heart attack five years ago."

"I'm so sorry, Landon."

"It's fine. No, it's not fine, but I've processed and dealt with it. Even that didn't make me realize how precious time truly is. It should have, but it didn't."

I'm sure she can sense there's something I want to say or do. Every time I glance at her, she's got a patient look on her face that makes me want to reveal my news suddenly. It's proof of what an effective social worker she will be. No, she is because, internship or not, she's already doing the job.

"Time is precious," she murmurs, clearly waiting for me to go on.

Instead, I keep driving. She sighs softly and looks out the window. I need to give myself time to process how I feel about this woman and pull the experience of seeing her again apart so that I can analyze the pieces. How much has changed because of her, and how much has changed because of the cancer?

The question, even asked silently to myself, seems gross and unfair to Lily, as if her personality isn't enough, as if this hunger could be due to a health scare. Still, knowing I've only got a little while left …

Pulling up outside her apartment, I turn, draping my arm over the back of her chair. She sits forward, looking up at me. I swear, her eyes are actually sparkling, giving her an angelic look.

"Thanks for the drink," she murmurs.

Stop , I tell myself. Think .

Yet I do neither. Instead, I reach forward and brush strands of hair from her face. Her mouth falls open. My heart is pounding harder than it has in years as I lean down toward her.

"Lily," I whisper. Months, not years, months, not …

"What are you doing?" She leans back so quickly that the back of her head hits the window. "Was this a date?"

"I …" I stop. "You're so beautiful."

"I don't—" She cuts herself off, shaking her head. "I can't …"

I quickly lean away. She looks so young, her confused tone adding to the effect. No, not effect . She is almost twenty years younger than me. She might seem mature, but she has nearly half the life experience.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"Don't apologize ," she hisses, almost as if the apology, not the near kiss itself, is the worst part.

I open my mouth to reply—though I'm not sure what I will say—but she pushes the door open and climbs out before I can. She hurries across the street, not looking back, leaving me thinking maybe it's for the best. Not feeling that … The only feeling I have is roaring at me to go after her.

Instead, I use… logic. I watch her leave. She wasn't prepared for that. She thought she was reconnecting with a kind older man from her youth, not somebody with end-of-life thoughts messing with his head.

I sit in the car across the street for far too long. Minutes pass with me sitting here, watching the apartment, as though she's going to emerge and tell me she's realized her mistake. "I want you just like you want me …"

During the ride back, I try to reason it out. I've gone years feeling no attraction to anybody. Even when I was younger and did have girlfriends, it was never like this. There was never this urgency, this go now feeling. What's more likely? Is Lily the most remarkable woman I've ever met, or am I going crazy because of the diagnosis?

I know it's more likely to be the latter, but the former feels so undeniable. She seems so special, so interesting. I don't want to get carried away, but I can't put this down to just the illness.

Maybe it's time to speak with somebody who can give me perspective. I call Ethan.

"Yo," he says, answering. "Late call … is something wrong?"

"I need to explain some stuff to you," I say. "I need you to agree not to ask any questions or make any comments until I finish. It's going to be tough, E."

"Okay …"

"I mean it," I growl. "Let me lay out all the evidence. Let me present the case. Then make your judgment."

"Okay, Landon. Shit. This must be serious."

To Ethan's credit, he doesn't interrupt me as I start to explain. He lets me tell him about the doctor, then running into Lily, then the not-really-a-date, and the near kiss.

When I'm done, he says, "You need to see that oncologist. The rest of this matters. I'm not saying it doesn't, but that is the number one priority."

"I know," I grunt.

"Do you, Landon?" he says in an angry tone. "Then stop dodging your doctor's calls. That needed to be arranged the second you got your first diagnosis."

"I know," I repeat, quieter this time.

"I can come with you," he replies. "I know you don't like doctors."

"I've never said that."

"You've never needed to," he says. "Remember when you had that throat infection? You couldn't speak, looked half dead, and you still wouldn't go in. Hell, I'm surprised you even went in for this. The symptoms must've been a bitch."

"It was for my parents," I admit. "Ever since Charley, I've been getting health checks twice a year. They've all been A-OK until now."

"That makes more sense," he murmurs. "So you'll call your doctor?"

"Yes."

"I mean it, brother. Tomorrow, first thing. I'm going to be bugging you about this. You need a plan of attack."

"He said months ," I tell Ethan. " Months, not years … All that's left is working out how uncomfortable these last few months will be."

"Then face it," Ethan growls. "If the truth is ugly, look at it. You owe it to yourself, your parents, and hell, to me—to everybody in your life."

"I'll call them tomorrow," I say, "but I wanted advice about the other thing, too."

"About your crush?"

I laugh with a heavy sense of irony. "Yeah, if you want to call it that. Makes me sound like a kid, but still …"

"She didn't seem interested?"

"She backed off pretty fast when I tried to kiss her."

"Crap, I don't know." Ethan sounds genuinely lost, something rare for him. "You know who you're asking, right?"

I have to laugh again. Ethan isn't exactly the serious relationship type. "Yeah, but the fact is, E, you're the best friend I've got."

"You know me. I'm all about the apps. I have been ever since they came out. By the time I try to kiss a woman, I normally know whether she's interested. That's why I'm always telling your old-fashioned ass to get on them, too."

"I hate those goddamn things. They take all the humanity out of it."

"No offense, but it's not like you've been going the in-person route instead."

He's right, but I don't care. Usually, I can ignore stuff like that, but it's different with Lily. Or is it the illness? No, that feels false, unfair to her somehow. "I'm busy. Working."

"Amen to that," he says.

"Listen, I gotta go."

I hang up. Ever since this crap with the doctor, everything feels more important. As I drive, my memories skip back to those early days when Dad was building his business. Charley and I were watching and listening more than they ever knew. There was always that voice in my head saying our lives could fall apart. Bills were going to drag us down.

So, I had to use logic. Make money. Maybe, somewhere along the way, I forgot who I was.