In Another Life (4 page)

“Perfect.” He squeezed my nape. “I took Thursday off.” He paused for a beat and then asked, “Are we celebrating Thanksgiving together?”

I’d heard of whirlwind romances, more in movies and books than in real life, but regardless, I was familiar with the concept. I couldn’t really say whether I’d believed it was true or a bunch of baloney, because the fact was, I’d never given it any thought.

“I want to,” I said. I took a deep breath and raised my head so I could look into Travis’s eyes. “Is this crazy?”

He moved his hand down my back and rested it on my butt. It was something he tended to do frequently—when we were talking, when we were sleeping, even when I was standing in the kitchen making a sandwich and he was looking over my shoulder. And I loved it. Not only because I enjoyed the feeling of his hands on me, but also because of how comfortable he was doing it, like it was his place to touch me.

“Crazy in what way?” he asked.

“Spending Thanksgiving together means meeting each other’s family. I assume that’s what you meant.”

“It is,” he said with a nod. He moved his hand away from my ass and massaged his temple while he moved his gaze to a spot over my shoulder. “Are you worried that we’re moving too fast?”

“Not worried, just….” As I failed to think of the right words to explain my concerns, I realized that was probably because I wasn’t
actually
concerned. It was more that I thought I was supposed to be worried about how quickly our relationship had developed. But in reality, I had never felt more content, more whole than when I was with Travis.

“You want to know what I think?” he asked quietly.

I cupped his cheeks and dipped down to brush my lips over his. “Tell me.”

He looked into my eyes again. “I think when it’s right—I mean, truly right—you know it from the start. And I think the reason nobody else ever felt right for me was because I’ve been waiting for you.” He rubbed his lips together and took a shaky breath. “That’s what I think.”

My chest ached and my throat tightened in reaction to those words. I swallowed thickly and said, “My parents and my brothers want to meet you.”

Travis’s entire face lit up. “You told your family about me?”

“Yes. And my mom asked me to bring you over to their house for dinner on Wednesday. My brothers and their wives and kids will be there too.”

“For the first night of Hanukkah?” Travis asked.

I nodded and said, “We always do the first candle at my parents’ house. Just the family. It’s our tradition.” I lowered my face and rubbed my cheek against his. “Are you ready to be part of our tradition?”

“I’m ready to be part of your family,” Travis said right before he tangled his fingers in my hair and held me in place as he slanted his mouth over mine in a bruising kiss.

When we separated for air, I breathlessly said, “I’m ready too.”

“Good.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “My whole extended family gets together for the last night—uncles, aunts, cousins, the whole bit. We used to celebrate at my grandparents’ house before they passed away, and the last few years it’s been at my aunt’s house. I’ve never brought anybody with me.” He stroked my cheek. “Until now.”

My heart slammed against my chest. “So the first candle with my parents this Wednesday night, Thanksgiving and the second candle with your parents this Thursday, and then your aunt’s next Wednesday?”

“Yes.”

I tilted my chin up, silently asking for a kiss. One turned into two, and before I knew it, we were back to necking on the couch. I let the scent and taste of Travis wash over me and promised myself not to second-guess what I was feeling—what we both were feeling—again. I’d been in the dating scene for close to two decades, and during that time I’d had my share of bad dates and lackluster relationships, but never had I been with a guy who made my heart soar while at the same time making me feel safe and grounded.

Maybe Travis was right; maybe nobody else had ever felt like the right guy because I’d been unknowingly waiting for him. Or maybe it was just dumb luck that we’d stumbled upon each other. Whatever the reason, we were together and neither of us wanted to let go. That was all that mattered.

“My parents do Thanksgiving at eleven because my brothers have to bounce around between their in-laws and my folks,” I said. “Think we can fit that in before we head over to your parents’?”

Travis beamed. “Yup. That timing’ll be perfect. Plus, we’ll get fed lunch
and
dinner.” He kissed me gently, and said, “See? Even our holiday scheduling is compatible,” and then he rubbed his nose over mine. “This was meant to be.”

And it felt that way—like we were supposed to find each other, like we fit together just right. The thought of fitting together predictably made my brain take a turn for the carnal, which had me grinding against Travis and stealing more kisses. He was on his back, stretched across the couch with his head resting on the arm, and I was spread on top of him, rocking my hips against his in search of friction.

“Are you needing, honey?” he asked huskily, moving his hand between us to cup my package through my pants.

I whimpered and thrust forward into his touch.

“Sit up a little,” he said.

When I was straddling his torso, he opened my pants and fished my hard-on out through the opening in my boxers.

“You have such a pretty dick, Shy,” he said huskily while he stroked me with just the tips of his fingers. “I love looking at you.”

I groaned, arched my back, and rocked into his touch.

“But you know what I like even more?” He waited until I was watching him, and then he licked his lips and said, “Tasting you. Come up here, honey. Feed me your dick.”

He clasped my hips and led me forward until my knees were planted on either side of his chest, and then he circled his hand around my cock. “C’mere, Shy. Let me taste you.”

I held on to the base of my dick and moved forward until it was pressed against Travis’s mouth.

He darted his tongue out, lapped at me, and moaned. “Mmm, so good.” Then he grabbed my hips and pulled me past his lips until my balls were pressed against his chin.

“Trav!” I shouted. “Oh God!”

I held on to the back of the couch with my left hand and his head with my right, and I thrust in and out of his warm, wet mouth. Travis’s arm moved as he jacked himself in concert with my movements and moaned around my hard length.

“I’m close,” I rasped, and he increased the force of his suction.

I rocked against him, my breaths coming faster, my belly tightening, and then I looked down and saw his eyes, blazing with heat and passion and want, all for me, and I fell over the edge.

“Trav!” I shouted as I pulsed into his mouth.

“Ungh!” he moaned. His hard sucks faltered, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he came.

When we were both spent, I melted on top of him, kissed the base of his throat, and closed my eyes. Travis wrapped his arms around me and held me close. “Made for me,” he whispered, and I decided I believed in fate.

My belief lasted less than two weeks.

I
WAS
expecting Travis to come to my house Tuesday when he finished his shift. It was the seventh night of Hanukkah and our last chance to celebrate in private because his big family gathering was Wednesday evening. We’d planned to stay in, light candles, make latkes, and play strip dreidel. Travis had come up with the idea during a heated conversation the previous night, and I’d been half-hard all day thinking about it.

When he hadn’t gotten there by seven, I figured they were short-staffed at the hospital or there had been an unexpected tragedy that brought a lot of patients into the emergency department. Though I didn’t expect him to answer his phone, I wanted Travis to know he should come home to me, no matter how late he had to work, so I called and left him a short voice mail. I was surprised when my phone rang, his name flashing across my screen, seconds after I’d hung up.

“Hey,” I said. “I didn’t mean to bug you at work. I just wanted to tell you to come over when you’re done. No matter what time it is. I miss you, and I’ve been looking forward to playing str—”

“This isn’t Travis,” a familiar female voice whispered. “It’s Natalie, dear.”

Having Travis’s mother call me was unexpected. Being about a word away from having phone sex with her, even more so. I cleared my throat and tried to get my bearings. Before I could gather my manners and say something intelligent, she kept talking.

“I took his phone and snuck into the hallway to call you because I think you should come down here. He told me not to tell you, but he’s wrong.”

She was meddling in his life and disregarding his specific wishes; seemed like Natalie used the same parenting playbook as my mother. The two of them were bound to meet sooner rather than later, at which point Travis and I would be doomed for life.

“Come down where? Isn’t he at the hospital?”

“Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “I thought he didn’t tell you. He said he didn’t want to worry you.”

I held the phone away from my ear and looked at it, hoping that would help add some comprehension to what she was saying. It didn’t.

“Why would I be worried about him going to work?”

“Work? He’s not working. His biopsy results came back.”

“Biopsy!” My stomach dropped, and my head started swimming, the edges of my vision going black. I grabbed onto the nearest surface and tried to stay upright. “Why did Travis need a biopsy?”

She sighed deeply. “I think I’ve said enough. Just come down here, Shiloh, okay? Travis needs you.” Her voice broke on the last word, and then she sniffled. “He won’t say so, but he’s scared.”

Hearing those words shocked me into pulling myself together. Travis wasn’t the type to be frightened. He was joyful, sometimes sarcastic, occasionally grumpy, always affectionate, but never scared. Knowing he needed me gave me the strength to put aside my own fears and brace myself for whatever was coming.

“He’s at Southeast Medical Center?”

“Yes. Third floor. Room 3112.”

“I’m on my way.”

N
ATALIE
MET
me in the hallway and gave me a warm hug.

“Thank you for coming, dear.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I lo…. You don’t need to thank me.”

She smiled weakly and patted my cheek. “I’m glad he found you, Shiloh. Tell him I’ll be back in the morning.”

I nodded, waited until she turned the corner, and then walked into Travis’s hospital room. I thought I had my emotions in check, but when I saw him lying in that bed, I wanted to cry. Thankfully, his back was to me, so he couldn’t see my stricken expression. I was giving myself an internal lecture about being supportive when he said, “I ruined our special night.”

I didn’t bother asking how he knew I was there. It didn’t matter. Instead, I rushed over to his bedside and grabbed his hand. “No, you didn’t. We can play strip dreidel anytime.”

He snorted and then sniffled. “Did my mom call you?”

“Yes, I hope you’re not ma—”

He turned around, and the sorrow on his face stripped me of the power of speech. “I’m so sorry, Shy,” he said. He looked down at our hands and rubbed his thumb over my hand. “I know I should have told you, but I didn’t want to worry you until I knew there was something worth worrying about.”

I nodded, took a calming breath, and sat on his bed. “Is there?” I asked, bracing myself for bad news but saying a silent prayer that he’d tell me nothing was wrong.

“You were right about the smoking” was all he said, but the meaning was clear.

I swallowed hard. “How bad is it?”

“I don’t know yet. It’s all come on really fast. I had my annual physical on Monday. My doctor said he wanted me to get a lung biopsy. I thought he was being hypercautious out of some sort of annoying professional courtesy, but I did it anyway. Then today they called me.” He looked into my eyes. “It’s positive. Small-cell lung cancer.”

Being strong flew out the window. I whimpered, dropped into Travis’s arms, and hugged him tightly.

“Is that bad?” I asked hoarsely, trying to keep my tears at bay. “It sounds bad.”

“It depends on what stage it’s in, but—” He gulped. “It’s not good, Shy.” He stroked his hand over my hair. “I’m here because they need to run more tests.” He took in a deep breath. “They’re checking to see whether it’s already spread to my brain. Hopefully, it hasn’t, but no matter what, cancer’s a hard road. Chemotherapy, doctors’ visits, sickness.” He sighed. “We just met. You don’t have to—”

“Don’t you dare,” I growled and clutched his arms. “We agreed, Travis.” I blinked quickly to keep myself from crying. “We agreed that we were meant to be together. We agreed, and you can’t just….” I gulped. “You can’t….” I lost the battle and collapsed on top of him, loud, ugly sounds pouring from me. “We agreed,” I said again and again in between sobs. “We agreed.”

We agreed that we were meant for each other, that the reason we’d always been alone was because we’d been waiting to find one another. And we agreed that no matter how fast it was, we were holding on to what we’d found together. It didn’t seem possible that fate would be cruel enough to take all that away before it’d even had a chance to get started.

“Shhh,” he said. He wrapped his arms around me and rocked us from side to side. “Don’t cry, honey.” His voice cracked. “Please don’t cry.”

I raised my head and looked into his eyes. “You can’t push me away.” I swallowed hard. “Promise me, Trav. We agreed.”

“I won’t push you away, Shy.” He raised his neck and kissed my forehead. “But that’s all I can promise right now.”

I nodded in understanding and laid back down, resting my cheek on his chest. It didn’t take long for Travis’s breathing to even out, and I felt my own body getting heavy and tired. I kissed his chest through his hospital gown and quietly said, “I love you, Travis. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave.”

Chapter 4

Shiloh, Age 18

“
P
LEASE
DON
’
T
leave.”