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"So, who is this rich kid from Texas and talented artist friend of yours? I need to know if I should be jealous…"
"Drake!" I said and went to him as he stood at the door, his coat and scarf on. "He's two years younger than me, is a pothead, has tattoos and piercings. The last time I saw him, he had a bright blue streak in his long blond hair. At first I thought it was paint, but no. It was blue hair color."
Drake laughed at the image I painted of Nathaniel. "Still, artists are pretty sensual people," he said, wagging his eyebrows.
I wrapped my arms around his neck. "You have no cause for jealousy. He's one of those free spirits who flits from lover to lover like a butterfly from flower to flower."
"Has he sampled any of your nectar?"
"No," I said and gave his shoulder a playful tap. I didn't tell Drake that Nathaniel had wanted to hook up back when we were in the same class. I'd turned him down, but Drake didn't need to know that. I didn't want him to have any worries or feel any jealousy, considering the drama that was going on in his life. The fact I turned Nathaniel down didn't affect our friendship and he was generous, offering me the chance to go to the studio to work any time I wanted and there was free time in one of the studio's four rooms.
I'd finally have a reason to do just that.
"Maybe I should come with you, take a look at this studio," Drake said, his voice a bit guilty sounding.
I nodded. "If you want. I'd love to show it to you, but you are not allowed to see my painting until I feel it's ready. I've just done a few sketches at this point, so it will be a while before it's finished."
"When do you want to go?"
"I thought you'd be busy all morning so I asked him if I could come by…"
"I could make some time after I speak with the oncologist."
"Call me and let me know when you're done. I'll text Nathaniel and let him know we'll be by."
"Sounds like a plan."
Drake kissed me, deeply, holding onto me a bit longer than normal, but finally, after he'd run his hands all down my body, eliciting a delicious thrill of desire through me, he let me go and left the apartment. He said nothing more about playing out our scene, so I assumed he was still too emotional because of the news about the transplant tissue match to even think of it.
That was fine with me – I could wait, but it was possible that it might be the last time in a while he'd feel up to it. I read up on stem cell transplants on the net. The meds that stimulated his bone marrow could make the donor feel under the weather.
Whatever he decided, I shoved the idea into the back of my mind. Maybe in a week or two, when he'd recovered enough from the procedure, he might feel like playing our scene. I tried to be a good submissive and let him decide when.
As soon as Drake was gone, I sent Nathaniel a text, asking him if I could come by later in the morning to make a canvas.
I sat at the kitchen table, planning out the canvas, deciding what materials I'd need and how big it should be. I wanted it almost life-sized so it would have to be at least six feet long and four feet high. I'd need a place to work with good light. Depending on what Nathaniel and his small group of artist-friends were doing, the studio might be busy, but I could always w
ork at home.
As I waited for Nathaniel to text me, my thoughts turned from my painting to Drake and Liam. What would happen between them? Maureen said she didn't want Drake to be part of his life until Liam was an adult and could choose for himself. Liam would always be a memory of a small boy sick in the hospital isolation ward. Frail, in danger. I hoped that the bone marrow donation worked for him – losing Liam after Drake only found out about him would be very hard to bear, even if Drake never planned on being a father.
My cell buzzed and I took it in hand. It wasn't Nathaniel. It was my father on Facetime.
"Morning Daddy," I said, peering at the tiny screen.
"Today's the day, isn't it? Drake finds out about the tissue match?"
I nodded. "He already got word. He's a really good match."
My father smiled broadly. "Oh, God, that's great news." He leaned back in his swivel chair at his desk. "How's he taking it? Let me talk to him. We must celebrate!"
"He's at the hospital right now meeting with the oncologist, but he's so pleased. Donating will give him a sense of doing something for his son." I relayed the conversation Drake and I had earlier.
"So will you stick around here for a while or go to Kenya once he's recovered?"
"We'll stay until Drake's sure Liam is OK," I said, my voice catching in my throat, happiness for Drake filling me. "He was really fighting to keep his composure this morning when he got the news, but he's very happy."
"As good as this news is, Drake will still need you," my father said. "You know how fond I am of him. I'm sure he's glad he has you to be with him during all this."
