A Light in the Dark_Survival of the Fittest Page 20

  “When are you going to be out here? End of the term?”

  “Yeah, I’ll have to come back and at least check on the house, do a little surfing.” His fingers grazed over the strings of his guitar. “Maybe we can finalize a few things in person when I’m there. Jam a little.”

  “Hell yes.

  Bailey slid down further into the couch and leaned his head back. His late nights with Brie were catching up with him. “How are the rest of the guys?”

  “Fine I guess. I haven’t seen much of Leo which means he’s probably holed up with a woman somewhere.”

  “He’ll show up in week or two.”

  Oliver laughed, “Yeah, I’m sure he will.”

  “What about David? He seemed a little distracted when you guys were out here. Is he doing okay?”

  His brother let out a sigh. “I don’t know. I think he and his girl are on a break, but I’m not sure. You know how he is. He doesn’t say much.”

  Now, it was Bailey’s turn to laugh. David talked about as much as a Monk taking a vow of silence. “Maybe they’ll get everything sorted out.”

  “Maybe so. Lexie’s going to invite him to dinner so I’m sure we’ll know the whole story soon enough.”

  “No doubt.”

  A knock sounded on his door a moment before Brie cracked it and peered inside. When he caught her eye, he signaled her inside.

  “Listen, bro, I’ve got to run. Talk to you later.”

  “Tell Brie we said hello.”

  Bailey grinned and didn’t bother denying she was there. “Will do.”

  He hit the End button and tossed his phone to the side before pulling Brie down onto his lap, careful not to disturb Bowie, who was sleeping on top of the couch behind his head. “There you are.” They kissed, the heat simmering hot enough that their kiss could either end there or be taken to the next level with the slightest of pressure. She tasted of coffee and her familiar strawberry chap stick, a flavor which was quickly becoming one of his favorites.

  Brie pulled away and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m beat. Do you care if we stay in and maybe watch a movie tonight or do you need to study?”

  “Nah, now that I don’t have you for an instructor, life’s a lot easier.”

  Her mouth fell open and she slapped at his chest.

  “I’m kidding.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “A movie sounds great. What are you in the mood for?”

  She tilted her head to the side and gave him a cheeky grin.

  He chuckled. “I thought you said you were tired.”

  She giggled and turned until she was pressed up against him. “I’m never that tired and besides, I think I just got my second wind.”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

  She kissed him and let her fingers trail up his side until she was gripping his shirt in her fist. “I missed you today, Bailey.” She nipped at his jawline and then his neck sending a shiver of pleasure through his entire body the way only she could.

  “Did you now?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She linked his fingers with hers and then gently sucked on the end of each one until he started to pant.

  “Christ, woman.” He tugged the paintbrush holding her hair up until her hair fell loose around her shoulders.

  She slid down between his legs until her knees were touching the floor. With eyes the color of dark honey she looked up at him, a seductress in full control. When she reached for the button on his jeans and bent forward, he gripped the couch like a lifeline. As her mouth went to work on him, it was all he could do not to levitate.

  His guitar fell to the floor beside him when he jerked a moment later, sending Bowie running for cover, but it didn’t stop Brie or her perfect goddamn mouth.

  When he finished, he grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her where he could lower her to the floor. With his eyes on hers, he ducked his head to nip at her flat stomach, her back arching in response.

  “Now, it’s your turn.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Bailey stirred when he felt Brie’s hand shaking his arm followed by the sweet smell of coffee. She set it on the nightstand beside his head and the bed moved under her weight when she sat on the edge of the mattress.

  “Come on, Honeycutt. Get it moving.”

  “You wore me out,” he mumbled against the pillow.

  “Be that as it may, we have to go shopping to get something to wear to the showcase.”

  He grumbled and then stretched, pausing when her lips tickled his ear. “It’ll be a treat to see you in a suit and then an even bigger one when I get to see you out of it.”

  His eyes sprang open and he grinned.

  Seeming to read his mind, Brie shook her head. “Oh, no you don’t.” Then, he hooked an arm around her waist and tugged her into bed with him.

  “Let’s talk more about this private after-party.”

  She laughed as he nuzzled her neck with his stubble. “Maybe later, but first you need a shower.”

  The day was bright, the sun reflecting off the snow, but the wind had died down. As Bailey allowed himself to be dragged down the row of stores with his fingers linked with Brie’s he couldn’t keep from smiling. He probably looked like a complete moron, but he didn’t care. It was the perfect day. He awoke to Brie’s face, shared coffee with her, and now they were out together with no constraints.

  “I want to pop in here for a bit.”

  He grabbed the door and held it open. “Lead the way.”

  While Brie tried on no less than ten dresses, Bailey used the time to check his phone and catch up on emails.

  “What about this one?”

  Bailey glanced up from his screen and nodded. “You’re hot in that one, too.”

  “That’s so not helpful.”

  “What can I say?” He stood and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I always think you look hot.” He kissed her, and she shoved him away.

  “Don’t mess it up. I haven’t paid for it.”

  “I’ll get it for you.” He grinned. Hell, he’d buy her the whole damn store if she wanted it.

  “No.” Her tone was like steel. “You don’t need to buy me things, Bailey. I can take care of myself.”

  He held up his hands and backed up a step. “I know you can. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Brie shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t, but, Bailey I need you to understand that I don’t want our relationship to be that way. I don’t want us to be one-sided. I’m not in this with you because you can support me.”

  “I know. I wouldn’t be with you, if you were.”

  They stood there, staring at each other across the dressing room while the tension ebbed. “I’m going to get changed.”

  Bailey dropped back into the chair and ran his hands over his face. Though she’d forgiven him for the thing with Theo, he’d do well to remember she hadn’t forgotten. He hated that it made her angry, but if it meant protecting her, he’d do it again.

  He swiped at a strange tickle on his upper lip and then froze. There was blood on his hand. He dabbed under his nose again, and again found blood. He shot out of his chair, his clothes suddenly too tight. No. No. No. Not again. Not now.

  “Hey, uh, Brie,” when his voice came out to tight, he cleared his throat and tried again, “Brie, I need to run. I forgot I said I’d meet up with Cohen and help him out with some music stuff.”

  “Oh,” her voice was surprised behind the changing room door. “If you wait a second, I can come with you.”

  “No, no.” He paused with one foot out the door. “You finish up here and I’ll meet up with you later.”

  “Okay. Tell him I said hallo.”

  Bailey darted for the shop door, desperate for air. This was
nothing. Just a bloody nose. It happened. His thoughts spun out of control flipping between the past and the present. This was how it had started. Weak, tired, bloody noses. He hadn’t been tired, had he? Wait, Lexie had asked him, hadn’t she? She thought he’d looked tired and he’d played it off as being too busy with school and not getting enough sleep. Shit.

  He swiped at his nose again and made for the coffee shop up the street and didn’t slow down until he reached the bathroom. He tilted his head forward and felt the room sway around him at the sight of his blood mixing with the water. Blood, bags of fluid, poisonous drugs wrecking his system—his breaths came fast, shallow as he tried to separate the past from the present.

  He gripped the sides of the sink for support and stared at the mirror as perspiration dotted his forehead. He’d known it was a possibility. The doctors had warned him of the chance of the cancer returning. Remission wasn’t a lifetime guarantee.

  “Damnit.” He slammed his hands down on the edge of the sink. “Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.” He stared at the man in the mirror again and as sure as he was standing there he saw the man from three years ago staring back at him. A sick man. Frail. A man who did nothing, but bring down everyone else around him.

  He hit the mirror, adrenaline blanketing the hurt in his fist. He’d be damned if he was going to weigh Brie down the way he had everyone else in his life. She had a career to chase and dreams to fulfill. With his heart in shards, he made a decision.

  “Hey,” he handed some money to a confused looking barista on his way out. “Sorry about the mirror in the bathroom. That should cover it.”

  The barista stared down at the wad of pounds in his hand, his mouth hanging open in confusion.

  “Okay, then.” Bailey pushed the door open, glanced around the street of the town that had given him his life back even if it was only for a little while, and then climbed into the back of a waiting cab.

  She’d hate him for what he was about to do, but hating him was better than loving him.

  He slammed the cab door. “London-Heathrow, please.”

  Chapter 25

  After a fitful night of sleep, Brie dragged herself into the kitchen and scooped more than her usual amount of coffee into the filter. She hadn’t heard from Bailey and while it wasn’t his job to talk to her every waking minute of his life, it was unusual for him to drop off without at least a text. Maybe the almost row they’d had in the clothing shop had bothered him more than she’d realized.

  She rolled her shoulders in an attempt to ward off the headache trying to take hold. Her class was due for its first exam and she couldn’t afford not to be at her best. There would be grading later and she’d promised Jessica she’d ride into London with her for one final walkthrough before the showcase.

  She flipped her phone over where she’d left it on the counter and let out a sigh when there were no new messages.

  “Still no word, huh?” Jessica asked as she swept into the kitchen.

  “No, but it’s no big deal.” That’s what she was going to tell herself anyway. “I’m sure he just had some class stuff to do.”

  Jessica didn’t bother pouring her own cup of coffee instead, she swiped Brie’s and took a huge gulp. “Ah, yes. The life of an undergrad. No thanks.”

  “Are you off already, then?”

  Jessica slapped her mug back on the counter, sloshing coffee over the rim and grabbed a biscuit out of an open package. “Yeah,” she shoved the biscuit in her mouth and grabbed her bag off the chair. “Professor Kitch is going to go over some notes with me and then I’ll meet up with you this afternoon, right?”

  “Yes, I’ll meet you in front of Ruskin One.”

  “Right. See you then.” Jessica rushed out as fast as she’d rushed in, leaving Brie to what was left of her coffee.

  What she needed was a shower and to quit with the worrying. She wiped up Jessica’s spill and headed for the stairs. It was time to get busy on her own stuff and quit making up problems where there weren’t any. Bailey was fine. She was fine and together, they were, well— an image formed in her over-active imagination of Bailey’s naked body—much better than fine.

  ~ ~ ~

  While Bailey sat waiting for the nurse to come take his blood, he did his best not to stare at any of the people around him. With their varying lengths of hair and extra layers of clothing despite the warm temps outside, he knew they were all cancer patients and he didn’t need to be reminded of how it felt to be one.

  His flight home had been uneventful and with everyone assuming he was still away, he’d been left alone for the past few days. Alone to sit and think and turn over his decision in his mind a million times. But, it always came back to Brie and what was best for her.

  “Mr. Honeycutt, we can take you back now.”

  Bailey followed the nurse and then her instructions while she filled three vials of blood. Under different circumstances he would’ve joked around with her or offered to take a picture with her after he’d caught her double take, but not today. Today, he wanted to be left alone. His phone buzzed inside his pocket.

  “You can take that if you want to. I’m all finished.” The nurse, in her Scooby-Doo scrubs, turned and placed a sticker with his name on each of the containers filled with his blood.

  “No.” He stood and flexed his arm once. “I’m good.” He didn’t have to look to know who was calling. He’d been gone for four days and Brie’s calls and texts were becoming more frequent and pressing with each passing day. He shouldn’t have worried her, it was cruel in a way, but soon enough her anger would turn to hate.

  “We should have the results in the next few days.” The nurse beamed at him like he was there for a checkup and not to hear life altering news. “You have a good one now.”

  Bailey nodded and then made his way to his car. He hadn’t missed much about L.A., but he had missed driving his 1968 Ford Mustang convertible. When his phone buzzed again, he tossed it aside on the empty passenger seat and headed for the liquor store. He’d only thought he’d known pain before, but now, after almost having everything he’d ever wanted and losing it—this was real pain. And, from now on, he didn’t want to think or feel anything for as long as possible.

  With the top down and warm sun on his neck, he pressed the accelerator and sped away from the hospital.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Bailey, wake up.” The room was shaking. “Wake up, man.”

  The voice beside him was loud, too loud but familiar. Bailey tried to open his eyes, once and then again, grit refusing to let go. He squinted against the harsh light and then remembered where he was. When he finally could squint, Oliver was standing over him scowling.

  “Christ, man. What’re you doing here?” When his asshole brother pressed the button to open his blackout shades all the way, sunlight filled the room and he winced. The only thing stopping him from punching Oliver in the jaw was the pounding in his head.

  When Oliver pointed to some aspirin and a glass of water sitting beside his bed, Bailey pushed himself up onto his elbows and let out a string of curses, and grudgingly, slipped the pills into his mouth. Then, he gulped at the water like a man in the desert until there was no more.

  Breathless, he leaned back against his pillows and croaked, “How’d you find out I was here?”

  “It seems someone recognized you at the hospital.” Oliver sat down in the chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “And, then TMZ picked it up.” He didn’t say more. He simply waited for Bailey to explain himself, the same way their mother used to when they were young and got caught doing something they weren’t supposed to do.

  “Damn vultures.” Bailey’s head lolled from one side of his pillow to the other.

  “That’s pretty unforgiving of you, Bailey. Aren’t you the one who always says not to let it bother you? That those reporters ar
e only doing their jobs?” When Oliver smirked, it was like he’d poked him with a stick.

  “Yeah, well, maybe I’m not in a very forgiving mood.” He sat up and punched his pillows, sending a shockwave of pain through his head. He winced again. “Christ.”

  “It’s been awhile hasn’t it, little bro?”

  Bailey grunted in response. It had been years since he’d gotten as drunk as he had the day—he glanced toward the digital clock in his room that displayed the date—or rather days before. At this point, he’d been drunk for about forty-eight hours straight and if his nosy-ass brother hadn’t shown up like he was his keeper, he would currently be pushing that number to seventy-two.

  When Oliver folded his arms behind his head and continued to watch him under a steady gaze, Bailey’s anger flared to life.

  “What, Oliver? What is it that you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you that I left school? Oh, sorry to disappoint you there.” He threw off the covers and stormed across the room, his adrenaline disguising his hangover.

  “Or, that I threw away months of work?” His chest heaved as his pent-up frustration swirled inside like a fierce beast clawing its way out. “Or, about how I got a nosebleed that wouldn’t quit like before?” Bailey pounded the side of his fist into the wall and leaned his forehead against the cool surface.

  “Or, how about you tell me that the cancer might be back?”

  He’d known, deep down he’d known his brother would figure him out.

  Oliver kicked the empty whiskey bottle on the floor and sent it spinning. “So, this is what you’ve been doing since you got back? You’ve been trying to drink yourself to death instead of turning to your family? How’s that working out for you?”

  Bailey jerked around to face his brother. “Fuck you, Oliver.”