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  My body’s been tellin’ me I should also give up sex, but the idea of turning down Tonya is laughable. I don’t care what my body tells me, I ain’t takin’ it in the ass. I’ll die ridin’ her before I let the bastard that is cancer win.

  ***

  I meet Tonya for lunch and she’s so excited about something she reminds me of Shay jumpin’ up and down on her seat. I kiss her on the lips firmly and let my tongue slip out and graze her lips just so I can see her eyes smoke over. Damn this woman.

  “What’s got ya all worked up?” I ask her after I take a seat.

  “I got the job,” she tells me and I don’t have to question what she’s talkin’ about.

  Tonya’s a marine biologist, a real life scientist, and she’s been pinin’ for a position in a shark laboratory in Bimini. She’ll be swimmin’, catchin’, taggin, and observin’ the sharks of Bimini. A dream come true for her.

  I smile at her, happy her hard work is helpin’ her reach one of the many goals she’s set for herself.

  “When do ya start?” I ask her, proud of her accomplishment.

  “Mid-June,” she responds with such a shit-eatin’ grin I find her excitement contagious.

  “This calls for a brownie,” I tell her.

  “But we haven’t ordered lunch yet,” she says.

  “Brownies then lunch.”

  “Fine,” she agrees on a smile. “A sundae and you’re sharing with me.”

  “’Course I am. Can’t let you get fat on me,” I tease and she flips me off good naturedly.

  Only my stomach revolts after my first bite and I rush to the bathroom just in time. I hate the weakness leaving my body more than the disease that’s probably hell- bent on killin’ me. After I wash my face off several times with cold water, I walk out of the bathroom determined not to ruin Tonya’s celebration. She meets me at the door of the bathroom and her face says it all.

  “I think ya got me pregnant,” I tell her, trying to ease the tension off her face.

  “I got some sticks you can pee on at home,” she says taking my hand in hers.

  “First we gotta celebrate,” I tell her adamantly.

  “My thoughts exactly,” she responds with a sly smile.

  I go back to the table, leavin’ more money than is necessary for an uneaten sundae and let Tonya go ahead of me to her car. Still not feelin’ well, I shuffle my feet until I reach for the car handle and can hear her music blasting from the outside. I try to remember the name of the band, Elephant Man, maybe?

  Hell if I can remember so I just open the door, slippin’ myself into the passenger seat. I barely have time to close the doors before she pushes the gas pedal. People in Miami can’t drive worth a shit. And, yea, that includes Tonya. I swear I ain’t never seen that woman use her blinker. But she’s got no problem using the horn. One of these days, I’m disablin’ the damn thing.

  She maneuvers in and out of traffic expertly and we arrive to her townhome faster than I thought possible. Indy drivers should pay homage to this woman.

  Before I can make it into her room, she guides me to her couch where she sits me down and then promptly sits on my lap. I place my hands on her hips, trying to maneuver her so that she is straddling me, but she just shakes her head no at me. I look into her eyes and see the worry in them and know I’ve been out-maneuvered.

  Tonya puts both her hands on my face, forcing me to look at her, and asks, “What’s wrong Nate?”

  But I just shake my head at her. I am given the opportunity to talk but I have no words.

  “Don’t lie to me,” she says, anger creeping into her voice. “You’ve lost weight, you’re tired all the damn time, and you have a cough that only seems to be getting worse. You said you went to the doctor back home but where’s the inhaler for your supposed asthma?” she accuses, her arms flyin’ wildly in the air. “I haven’t seen you once take any medication. So what is it?”

  I stare into her eyes and see the need to understand as well the desire to help. I also see her anger that’s ready to bust at the seams if I don’t tell her the truth. I sigh, resigned to ruin both of our days.

  Before I speak, I rest my head on the crevice of her neck and breathe her in. Once my words are spoken, there’s no goin’ back. Normalcy between us will cease to exist. I will have cancer while she remains healthy but useless in my plight.

  “I have cancer,” I tell her. No subtleties or sugar coatings for me.

  I go on to tell her the various tests they’ve run and about the biopsy I still haven’t scheduled. After I finish, I look back at her and see no tears. I breathe heavily, grateful for that small salvation.

  “When are you going to do your biopsy then?” she wants to know.

  I shrug my shoulders. “I’ll schedule it when I go back home.”

  “You’ll let me know?” she asks, lookin’ at me with so much passion I’m actually afraid for the both of us. “I’ll go up there when you have your procedure.”

  “Aw, Tonya –”

  “Don’t you pull that country boy act on me. Not when you’ve been such a shit,” she scolds me as if I were a child. “I’m going up there. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you want me there or not.”

  “I want you there,” I tell her and pull her closer to me, trying not to think about what this means for her new job in Bimini.

  “Of course you do, dumb ass,” she says, finally positionin’ herself so that she is straddlin’ me.

  With her legs wrapped around my waist, I carry her to her bed while she strips herself of her shirt and bra. After I remove her skirt, I start to take off my clothes but stop when I see her reach into her toy box. I barely have time to wonder what in hell she’s gonna pull out this time when she wiggles her vibrator at me.

  Seein’ me starin’ at her like the dumb ass she called me earlier, she crawls on the bed towards me and helps me get rid of the clothes that seems to be suffocatin’ me. She props her pillows and orders me to lie down against them.

  She orders me. And I fuckin’ listen. Me, whooped? Not in the least.

  With my back propped against the pillows, Tonya sits down in front of me, her legs spread wide as she begins to play with herself. I reach over to help but she pulls away from me with a smile that hardens me even further.

  “No touching,” she scolds and I frown. “If you’re a good boy and do as you’re told, you can choose from my toy box next.”

  I smile back at her, picturin’ her strapped to the bed with those beautiful eyes hidden behind blindfolds so she can’t see what my next moves are. She’s got other toys, but those two are my favorites. I live for the surprised gasps that leave her lips.

  I nod my head at her and watch her as she makes herself come. The torture of not touchin’ her, of pressing my lips to hers – either lip would be fine, is an exquisite type of torture everyone should experience. I lick my lips, needin’ to feel her skin with my fingertips, needin’ to be the one that brings her such gratification, but never wanting her to stop.

  Her eyes gloss over as she throws her head back and unable to resist her any longer, I pounce on her and kiss her lips as she continues to breathe heavily.

  “You didn’t follow the rules,” she says into my mouth and laughs. A laugh full of power and femininity I nearly release myself on top of her.

  “You’re done,” I tell her. “Now it’s my turn.”

  She knows I like ridin’ her from behind and she begins to roll over, but I grab her waist and shake my head.

  “I’m in control this time,” I tell her and her eyes widen.

  She nods her head at me, excitement shinin’ in her eyes, and I lick the part of her neck where her heart is pulsing and find it to be as violent as my own heartbeat. I leave her to find the straps that will tie her to the bed and the blindfolds that will leave her completely submissive to my every whim.

  After I am satisfied, I kiss her gently on the side of her mouth and she licks her lips before she smiles back at me. I trace my fingers from her mouth
to her stomach and I watch her skin shiver with my touch. I continue my way down her body, stoppin’ occasionally to taste certain parts with my tongue. Once I reach her inner thigh, I linger, feelin’ her moisten at my touch. Unable to resist the taste of her, I lick her inner thigh until I am at her most sensitive area.

  I feel her shudder as I slip my tongue inside of her softy, creamy lips and mentally smile because I know how badly she wants to dig her nails into my skin.

  “Talk to me,” I demand and slip my finger inside of her.

  “Nate,” she whispers, her voice shaky and barely audible.

  I smack the outer side of her thigh, soft enough so it won’t hurt, but rough enough to get attention.

  “Talk to me, baby girl.”

  “I need you,” she tells me. “Right now, Nate. Right fucking now.”

  “What do you need from me?”

  “You, Nate. All of you,” she shouts at me. “Quit fucking around and get inside of me,” she all but pleads.

  I smile back at her. “Not just yet,” I tell her and she moans.

  Because I’ve never used one on her before, I decide to surprise Tonya by going inside of her with her vibrator. She bucks at the touch and screams my name, and I’ll be damned if that stupid toy doesn’t make me jealous. I want to be inside of her, not some stupid sex toy, but she continues to shout my name, twitchin’ as she comes.

  “Now I’m ready,” I whisper into her ear and she nods her head at me.

  I take the straps and blindfold off of her so I can watch and feel her as she reaches her peak once again.

  “Tell me you want me,” I whisper in her ear.

  She nods her head. “I want you, Nate.”

  “All of me.”

  “Yes,” she demands. “All of you.”

  I slam into her, reachin’ for her hair as she claws new marks on my back. I kiss her lips until she shouts my name in my mouth and then, finally, I release myself inside of her.

  Empty of everything but this amazin’ woman lying next to me, I pull her to me.

  “I’ve got you,” she tells me, kissin’ my chest as the rest of me relaxes and molds against her.

  She’s got me. There ain’t a damn thing I can’t do if she’s got me. So I guess cancer can go fuck itself ‘cuz my girl’s got me.

  Chapter 8

  Trent

  Before Nate and Dan head back to Alabama, Sofia invited us for a small dinner at her house. She told Erin she had big news, and considering how much time Sofia and Dan have been spending together since Erin’s and my wedding, it isn’t too difficult to figure out what the big news is. Now all Erin has to do is convince Nate that his dad selling the diner and moving down to Miami is a good thing. But Nate’s not much of a romantic. As Erin calls him, he’s more of a backwoods hillbilly type. Pretty much what she called herself during one of our first arguments.

  God knows we’ve had more, but, to date, that one is the worst. The words we exchanged can be forgiven and while we’ve moved past them and grown from our mistakes, words can never altogether be erased.

  It was the night of Cam’s funeral, a night she should have been able to depend on me, but she hadn’t wanted my comfort then so I pushed her back, forcing to do what I knew was right for Shayna and ultimately for Erin. She left me that night and I didn’t see her or speak to her for months.

  The only connection I had with her was through Nate, who had contacted me to find out more about Erin. Erin hadn’t realized who Nate was when she first arrived in Alabama and Nate, sensing the imbalance that had lived inside of Erin, had not told her for fear that any more indications from her past would push her past what she was capable of returning. So he turned to me, wanting to ensure that Erin was okay, that she was as resilient as he always believed her to be, and that she was capable of taking care of Shayna.

  It was through him that I learned about Shayna and the life she had endured, which only meant that Erin had lived through the same thing. The knowledge fueled me with a desire to help Erin, to let her know she wasn’t alone, that she didn’t have to take this journey by herself. Only she hadn’t wanted my help. So I did what any self respecting man would do. I moved on. With my heart shattered, stepped on, and rejected, I forced myself to stop thinking about Erin. I dated, did my cop thing, catching the bad guys of Miami, and told myself I was better off without her. My subconscious knew better and most nights I’d dream about Erin with the guarded smile I thought I had pushed past and the slim waist that fit perfectly in my arms as if she had been molded just for me.

  If it weren’t for my mom’s meddling ways, Erin’s and my future would have gone no further than that. I’m not saying I’m grateful my mom can’t keep to her own business, but I’m glad I’m exactly where I’m at in life.

  It always felt weird going into Sofia’s house because of Camilla. At one point, smiling pictures of Erin’s best friend had looked back at us from all corners of the house. But now, only a couple remain. To a stranger it may have seemed like Sofia had rid herself of her daughter, but I know better. Sometimes, the only way a heart can begin to heal is by removing the person entirely. Or, like Erin did, remove yourself entirely.

  Helping Sofia replace Cam’s pictures with non-consequential pictures of Cuba was easily the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Watching her cry in Erin’s arms was a lesson in pain I never want to experience. Witnessing her lose herself in love is worth every heart shattering moment we have shared.

  The house is full of the aromatic greasy deliciousness that is Cuban food. For her special announcement, Sofia has prepared white rice, black beans, plantains, and ropavieja, which translates to old clothes. Thankfully the shredded beef in red sauce doesn’t live up to its namesake.

  During dinner, Sofia and Dan share their news with us.

  “What about the diner?” Nate predictably asks when his dad tells him his plans. “Your house?” Nate demands.

  “Settle down, boy,” Dan says calmly, with an air of authority I wouldn’t ignore.

  “None of that is important,” Erin tells Nate after hugging Sofia.

  “To you,” Nate says pointing his finger accusingly at Erin. “Who do ya’ think’s gonna sell everything?”

  “I ain’t never dumped my responsibilities on you, boy,” Dan says holding Sofia’s hand in his own.

  “Ain’t,” Sofia scolds, shaking her head at him. “I ain’t from here and know better than to say that word.”

  Obviously beaten, Nate shakes his head at his father and storms out of the house. Erin and I follow him outside where he is kicking pebbles with the heel of his foot. I sit on the porch and let Erin handle the man she calls her brother.

  “Quit being such a baby,” Erin teases him.

  “Me? I’m the baby?” he asks and she nods her head.

  “They’re happy, Nate. Let them be happy,” Erin says gently. “They both deserve some happiness.”

  “Yea,” he agrees, still kicking the pebbles. “But now I ain’t got no family in Alabama.”

  Not one for hugs, Erin punches Nate on the shoulder.

  “You’ve got plenty of family in Florida.”

  “I guess,” Nate responds with a nonchalant shrug that cannot hide his grin.

  I guess the in-laws are leaving their backwoods hillbilly countryside to rough it out in the big city.

  Chapter 9

  Nate

  “I’m movin’ to Miami,” I tell Tonya as I walk into her place unannounced and she squeals before jumpin’ on me, wrapping her legs around my waist.

  What a woman, see what I mean?

  “You should lock your doors,” I tell her as I walk towards her couch with her still clingin’ on to me and find a very pregnant Brianna testin’ out a breast pump.

  I stumble backwards, droppin’ Tonya on her ass. Graceful and able to adapt in all situations, that’s me.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a breast before,” Brianna says laughin’ at my reaction.

  “Not one connected to
a machine,” I counter, purposely takin’ my eyes off of her entirely when I hear Jermaine cough behind me.

  Tonya laughs from the floor and smacks me on my calf, loudly demandin’ I pick her up.

  “Since when do you like bein’ carted around?” I ask her.

  “Since two minutes ago when you walked through the door,” she says smilin’ into my eyes and I can tell she’s had a few glasses of wine. “I think you should start calling me Princess.”

  “Princess it is,” I respond, droppin’ her on the couch furthest away from Brianna.

  “Bri,” Tonya shouts at her sister. “Can you put those things away? You’re making my very prude boyfriend uncomfortable.”

  Boyfriend. Not sure when that happened, but I like the sound of it. Still, I cock an eyebrow at her, questionin’ her choice of words and she just shrugs her shoulders as if she didn’t just make us an us.

  Takin’ my hand in hers, she smiles back at her sister and Jermaine and opens her mouth, utterin’ the words that have been so difficult for me to say.

  “I think you guys should know Nate has cancer,” she tells them and I begin to cough in response.

  At first the coughs are mild and I’m sure I’ll be able to stop but at one point, they come so fast I can’t catch my breath. With my heart rate escalatin’ and my breathin’ worsenin’, the room starts to spin and it is with Tonya’s hand on my shoulder that I calm down and am able to breathe normally again.

  “You’ve got a way with words, Princess,” I tell her, laughin’ between coughs.

  Jermaine looks at us with his mouth wide enough to catch flies while Brianna paces the room, which is kinda comical in her state. Tonya squeezes my shoulder, kissin’ me on my cheek before she walks up to her sister.

  “You don’t spring something like this on a pregnant woman,” Brianna yells at her sister, smackin’ her on the shoulder.

  “There’s no right way to say something like this,” Tonya retorts. “So I went with blunt.”

  At this moment, I appreciate her and her candor even more. It is her strength that will help me tell Pop and Erin.