The sky thunders, as dark clouds slowly blanket over us. Looks like a bad storm is rolling in.
“I gotta get to the gym. I don’t want to be late. Who knows what Debs would do.”
“Hey, the camel called, it wants its toe back.” Chloe points down at my crotch laughing. Glancing down I notice I have a huge camel toe. Shit.
Hurrying back inside I pass a giggling Chloe.
“Shut up,” I snap playfully.
“Hey, it’s better me than someone else!”
After changing into a different pair of yoga pants, I pass Chloe sitting on the front steps and head toward my car.
“Knock ‘em dead!”
Camden
The blinds are ripped open and Kaley’s perfume fills the room.
Groaning I flip over and hear an audible gasp escape her mouth.
“Um, good God!” she chokes on her words.
Smiling I open one eye and find a blushing Kaley looking anywhere but at me and my saluting morning wood.
“Why good morning Kaley, so good of you to come in my room first thing in the morning,” I casually state.
“I’m here to assist, um.” She brings a clipboard up over her face.
“Oh, you want to assist me?” I tease.
“NO! What I meant was…”
Flustered she throws her hands at her sides and storms out of the room.
“Just get some pants on and meet me in the kitchen!”
After having a good laugh I peel myself out of bed and grab some gym shorts. My hard cock sporting an impressive tent. Ever since it found out Tate was back in town, it’s hardly soft anymore.
Bracing my hands on each side of the window seal I glance out at that gloomy sky. I sigh, preparing myself for the gym today.
Tatum Fucking Davis. My Achilles heel.
You think being in love hurts? Try falling in love at the age of seven. Tate was a girl that breathed fire and laughter. Everyone else just seemed cold and dull compared to her. She made me fall in love with her.
Pushing off the window I stride into the kitchen and find Kaley pouring a cup of coffee.
“First things first,” she digs in.
“No, no, and no. There, that was easy.” I grab my cracked cup from her, and she scowls.
“I get it, no to everything. But, I did want to let you know that rent is due to this fine establishment.”
“Get the movers to move it to my parents’ place.” My stomach twists thinking about being so close to Tate. I’m not sure if it’s a good feeling, or bad. I can’t stop thinking about her and it pisses me off.
I don’t think I can ever forgive her. However, I find myself more eager to get to the gym than usual.
“Ok, you got it. When do you want to be moved in by?”
“Tonight.”
“Um, really?”
Looking over my shoulder I pinch my brows together.
“Problem?”
She shakes her head anxiously.
“No, not at all. Your,” she looks at my boxes, “things will be at your parents’ place by tonight.”
“Good.”
Chapter Eight
14 Years Old
Tate
Lying in bed I can hear my mother and father talking through the thin wall.
“No, I don’t want the girls to know. Not yet.” My mother insists in a hushed voice.
“Marlow, they can sense these things. I read it in a pamphlet, you need to tell them.”
“No, I’m not dead yet and I won’t have my girls looking at me like I’m already gone!”
I squeeze the pillow, my eyes stinging with the urge to cry. I knew my mother was sick. She has been carted to doctor appointment after doctor appointment after she fainted in the kitchen last month. Her and Dad have been distant, keeping secrets from Journey and I. I expected the worst, and those expectations were just exceeded.
“This is all my fault. I, I should have been here.” My dad’s voice is loud, he’s not trying to hide the shame he is feeling.
“These things are called a secret killer for a reason Nick. Nobody knew, not even I. How would you have known?”
“Yeah, but had I been here, maybe I would have seen the signs. I could have taken the girls off your hands, given you a break.”
“It’s cancer Nick, nobody can predict these things.” My mother’s voice cracks, and I lose it. I start sniffling and bawling into my pillow so loud my door is opened.
“Tatum?” My mother’s voice is soft and I can’t help but break down even more.
“Baby…” She climbs onto my bed and pulls me into her lap.
“I don’t want you to die.” The words just come out before I think about them.
She exhales, her hands smoothing my hair from my face. But she doesn’t say she isn’t dying.
“Is it treatable?”
“No, it’s stage four breast cancer, and it has spread into my lymph nodes.”
“We are still going to try though.” My dad breaks in, leaning against the doorframe. “Your mother needs us all here, to stay strong with her.”
“Does that mean you won’t be boxing next month?” I wipe a tear from my cheek. Dad is fighting in a match that could make his career. There are going to be scouts from all over. If he makes an impression, we could be rich.
“No. I’m not going.”