AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He looks confused, like most people are when I mention my condition.
"Apheresis is like dialysis for the blood; it removes the bad LDL cholesterol from the body. I'm hoping to get into the trial because of my insurance issues. Because..." I carefully shake another pill out of the container and pop it into my mouth.
Damien reaches for the bottled water on the nightstand, cracks it open, and hands it to me. I swallow the pill.
"Because what?"
"I don't have health insurance, so the doctors and pills are expensive. I had decent coverage in Illinois, but the situation's different here in Florida because of my income. Or lack of. I'm trying to work it out. I'd hoped to go overseas with Lauren and get treatment there where it's cheaper. I can get it done for half the cost in Prague or Greece. Everything's a mess here in the U.S. Which sucks because I've been doing a good job of lowering my cholesterol with the pills and clean eating." My shoulders sag.
Damien's frown deepens, and he slides to sit next to me on the edge of the bed. His massive body and sheer nakedness are distracting.
"What happens if you don't get treatment or medicine or whatever?"
"I have an almost fifty percent chance of having a heart attack before the age of fifty."
His eyes widen. "Do you have enough to pay for today?" He sweeps my hair behind my shoulder.
I nod, and for the first time since I saw Damien in the bar, I have a feeling of being lesser-than. Of being the poor girl on a rich island. Of being not good enough for the handsome military hero of the Hastings family. Of being sick and defective.
"I can help, you know," he says quietly.
There's a lump in my throat, and I swallow. Then I stand up and wave my hand in the air. I'd never accept financial help from him on this—I'm too proud. Probably I shouldn't have said anything to him.
"I'll be totally fine. I'll figure something out, and I've still got some savings. The pharmaceutical company is talking about coupons and discounts for me. I've applied. And I'm sure I'll work out the insurance piece sooner or later." Once I get a real person from the government health care site on the phone.
I lean in to kiss his mouth, wishing our idyllic night of hot sex wasn't ending. And especially not like this, talking about my cholesterol, for God's sake.
"Talk later," I murmur.
"We'd better." He kisses me again. "Kate?"
"Yeah?" I ruffle his hair.
"I had an incredible time. Really incredible. The best I've had in years. Ever, even."
Finally, I grin. "Me, too, babe. Me, too."
Over the next week,Damien and I spend five more nights together at the resort. Apparently, the floor's under renovation, and although Room 501—"our" room, I've cometo think of it—is already redone, it's in a construction zone so his family won't open it to guests.
But there's no construction on the nights we're there, only the sounds of us. The sex gets better and hotter each night, and I adore sleeping in his arms.
Being with him takes my mind off all the other problems: my dying graphic design career, whether Mom's cancer's in remission, my lack of insurance, and the pharmaceutical company's frustrating inability to communicate.
I dream of Damien at night when we're not together. I daydream of him when I get my blood drawn, zoning out as I sit in a chair squeezing a little sponge heart. My defective blood flows out of me and I breathe in pure happiness.
Damien's affection is like that machine that washes the blood of people with my condition—it's as if he magically turns all the sadness and difficulty of the last few months into something perfect. Somehow, he makes me think of life in a different way. And maybe I do the same for him, because he's laughing more when we're together. Talking more, too.
When I snuggle against his warm, broad chest and drift off to sleep, I thank the universe for the blessing that is him. Even if what we have is only temporary, it's okay. That's how I console myself, anyway.
If I can soak up all his lust and adoration—and give him all the pleasure he deserves—we'll part as close friends. Better people. Ones who might have a shot at a real relationship in the distant future, when we're both not transient.
This is perfect for now.
I think.
One morning, two days before Thanksgiving, I wake to his kisses. He's pressing his lips to my neck, and I let out a little purr. His skin is warm and inviting, so I snuggle closer.
"I love when you want to fuck in the morning," I whisper.
