Christopher nodded despite the fact that he was still crying. When we’d both managed to calm down, Christopher sat up and used his sleeve to wipe at his eyes. “Do tears on the first date mean there probably won’t be a second?” he said with a laugh. He seemed a little lighter. Some of the color was returning to his skin, and his eyes seemed brighter.
“The way I heard it is that whoever cries on the first date is the one who has to propose.”
The comment had Christopher laughing. He leaned against my side and put his head on my shoulder.
“Where do things stand now with your count?” I asked. I hated to have to bring the issue up, but I needed to know. Not just so I could support him but so I could join him on that roller coaster that had two potential outcomes.
“It’s stayed the same despite changing the medications. Dr. Kleinman added in a couple more drugs. I get tested next week to see what the count is. If it hasn’t gone down… I guess… I guess I don’t know what will happen then. My life has kind of been on hold, so I haven’t enrolled in the BSN program, and I haven’t gotten my RN license. Why start something I might not be able to finish?”
We both fell silent. A gamut of emotions was coursing through me. It reminded me of the seven stages of grief. I was certainly dealing with several of them, including bargaining, anger, and denial. I understood why Christopher didn’t want to put his family through this, but I also knew they would want to know so they could support him. Not knowing and pretending life was normal or trying to figure out why their loved one had returned home so very different had to be nearly as torturous as dealing with the truth.
It wasn’t a decision I could make for him. I could only decide for myself how I’d deal with it, and that didn’t even require any thought.
I wasn’t going anywhere.
But I was also clueless as to how to help Christopher. It was just one big waiting game.
“Tell me what you need me to do, Christopher,” I said as I held his hand and stared at the people across the street who were going on about their lives while the beautiful young man next to me waited to see what his own future would be… or if he even had one. If we had one.
Christopher sighed and squeezed my hand.
“You’re doing it, Rush. You’re doing it.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHRISTOPHER
I was nervous.
No, not nervous.
Terrified.
I’d only been in the nervous stage for the last half an hour of our day of sightseeing. The terrified part had come in shortly after we’d returned the Harley to the hotel parking lot and checked on Rush’s bunnies.
The thing that had flipped that switch from nervous to terrified?
Something completely ridiculous, something not even worthy of a second thought, especially considering how our date was supposed to have been a onetime thing.
But leave it to me to allow every ounce of joy I’d felt for so much of the day to fall by the wayside because of one simple thing.
Rush hadn’t grabbed any clothes as we’d left.
I was freaking out because the man had several boxes and suitcases full of his personal belongings in his hotel room, and he hadn’t grabbed any of it.
He hadn’t grabbed any of it because he was planning on returning to the room.
Tonight.
After he dropped me off.
“Hey, you okay?” Rush asked as his fingers brushed over mine where they were resting on the console that separated the front seats of the huge pickup truck.
I nodded. “Just tired,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. I was tired. But every ounce of exhaustion had been worth it. My day with Rush had been like a dream. It had been as perfect as the rare weather. Even with the stuff we’d talked about at lunchtime, it hadn’t taken long to get back the natural high I’d been riding all morning. A lot of that had to do with the fact that I got to have my arms wrapped around Rush’s strong body pretty much all day. I’d like the motorcycle more than I’d thought I would, but knowing I would get to hold on to Rush would be the main reason I’d say yes if he asked me to go for a ride again.
Except that was more and more unlikely to happen.
I sighed as we made the turn onto my road. Moments later, we were pulling into the driveway.
“Well, thank you for today,” I said awkwardly as I got myself unbuckled. “I had a lot of fun.”
God, I didn’t even sound like an actual person.
Escape.
Get up and out. Easy peasy.
Except not quite peasy because Rush grabbed my arm before I could open the door. “You sure you’re okay?”