This Girl (Slammed #3)(53)
Damn that indomitable will.
I roll my eyes at her stubbornness and walk to the refrigerator, removing the milk. When I begin to pour it into her glass, she turns away from the bar and flips her head over, then pulls the towel off her head. Her hair falls around her and she brushes at the tangles with her fingers. She smoothes out the strands, working her fingers through them delicately. What I wouldn’t give to touch—crap! I realize, just as she glances up, that I’ve poured way too much milk. It’s trickling down my hand and onto the counter. I quickly wipe it up with a hand towel.
Please tell me she didn’t see that.
I grab the powdered chocolate out of the cabinet and a spoon, then stir some chocolate into her cup. “Will she be okay?”
“No. Probably not.”
I should know better than to ask close-ended questions with her. But I haven’t asked Julia any details and I’m curious.
“But she’s getting treatment?”
She rolls her eyes and looks incredibly annoyed. “She’s dying, Will. Dying. She’ll probably be dead within the year, maybe less than that. They’re just doing chemo to keep her comfortable. While she dies. ’Cause she’ll be dead. Because she’s dying. There. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Her response sends a surge of guilt through me. I’m doing the exact thing to her that I hated having done to me. Forcing her to talk about something she hasn’t even accepted yet. I decide to drop it. She’ll come to this on her own terms. I walk to the freezer and grab a handful of ice, then drop it into her cup, sliding it across the counter to her. “On the rocks.”
She looks down at the chocolate milk and smiles. “Thanks,” she says. She finishes her drink in silence.
When the glass is empty, she stands up from the bar and walks to the living room. She lies down on the floor and stretches her arms above her head.
“Turn the lights off,” she says. “I just want to listen for a while.”
I turn out the lights, then walk to where she is and lower myself onto the floor beside her. She’s quiet, but the stress radiates from her.
“She doesn’t want me to raise Kel,” she whispers. “She wants to give him to Brenda.”
I inhale a deep breath, understanding completely where her pain is coming from. I reach out across the floor until I find her hand and I hold it, wanting more than anything for her to know she’s not alone in this.
MY EYES SNAP open at the sound of Eddie’s voice. I sit up on the floor, shocked that I even fell asleep, and see Lake watching Eddie walk out the door.
Shit! Shit, shit, shit! What the hell was Eddie doing in my house? Why would Lake even let her in? I’m getting fired. That’s it. I’m done.
After the door closes behind Eddie, Lake turns around and sees me sitting up on the floor. She purses her lips and tries to smile, but she knows I’m not happy.
“What the hell was she doing here?”
She shrugs. “Visiting,” she mutters. “Checking on me.”
She has no idea what kind of jeopardy she just put my entire career in!
“Dammit, Layken!” I push myself off the floor and throw my hands in the air, defeated. “Are you trying to get me fired? Are you that selfish that you don’t give a crap about anyone else’s problems? Do you know what would happen if she let it get out that you spent the night here?”
Lake’s eyes dart down to the floor.
Oh, god. She knows. Eddie already knows.
I take a step closer to her and she glances up at me again. “Does she know you spent the night here?” I demand. She looks down at her lap. “Layken, what does she know?”
She doesn’t look at me, which answers my question.
“Christ, Layken. Go home.”
She nods, then walks to the door. She slips her shoes on and pauses before she leaves, looking at me apologetically. I’m standing in the middle of the living room with my hands clasped behind my head, watching her. As mad as I am right now, it hurts to let her go. I know she needs me, but there’s so much we both need to process at this point. Besides, she needs to be home with her mother. Being here instead of at her own house isn’t helping her confront her situation at all.
A tear rolls down her cheek and she quickly turns away.
“Lake,” I say softly, dropping my hands to my sides. I can’t let her leave with the added stress of my outburst lingering in her mind. I walk to the door where she’s standing and reach down and touch her fingers, then take her hand in mine. She allows me to hold her hand, but she doesn’t face me again. She keeps one hand on the front door and sniffs, her head still focused on the floor.
This girl. In love with the boy she can’t have. Grieving the death of her father, only to find out she’s about to grieve the death of the only adult left in her life? This girl who’s being told she can’t keep the only family member she has left? I squeeze her hand and rub my thumb over hers. She slowly turns to meet my eyes. Seeing the pain behind them and knowing that a lot of it is because of me reminds me of all the reasons I need to let her go.
Her mother.
My career.
Her reputation.
Mine and Caulder’s future.
Her future.
Doing the right thing. The responsible thing.
Out of all the reasons I can come up with for her to go, there’s only one reason I can come up with for her to stay. I love her. This one reason for her to stay is the only reason that derives from pure selfishness. If I continue whatever this is with her, it’ll be completely selfish of me. I’ll be putting everything I’ve worked for and everyone I love at risk, just to fulfill my own desires.