The Hearts We Break (The Alphaletes Book 3), page 25
“Shit, you got pre-rolls,” he laughs.
“Sebastian and Erica brought them over, to help with the nausea and appetite.”
“That explains the weight,” Trevor nods.
Self-consciously, I wrap my arms around my stomach, hoping maybe it will help hide the fact that my clothes are drowning me. They were always a little loose because I liked them that way. Now, I just look like a kid playing dress up with her mom’s clothes.
“Again, though. Why are you alone? Where is Slater? Erica? Your dad or brothers? Slater’s parents? You have people, Freckles, so where are they?”
I shrug as I pick at the blanket in front of me.
“I don’t like burdening people. I already feel bad enough for everything Slater does for me. You don’t even know how many times he’s tried to break his contract to stay home with me.”
“He should,” Trevor says instantly, his tone full of judgment.
I frown at that. “No, he shouldn’t. I’m gonna be sick whether he is here or not. He needs to continue living his life so that way if I-”
“Swear to god, I’m gonna get pissed if you say some morbid shit. You’re not dying, and Slater should be here taking care of you. That’s what you do for the ones you love.”
I pause at that as I tilt my head at him.
“So, if you had a girlfriend who was sick, you’d give up your dreams? Drop out of the NFL? Give it all up just to be a caretaker?”
He’s quiet for a moment before he shrugs. “If I loved her the way Slater loves you, sure.”
“If it was Erica?” I test softly.
Trevor shoots me a look to drop it before he opens the plastic tube that is still in his hand, twisting the joint between his fingers before digging in the bag for a lighter.
“Want to smoke?” he asks.
I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t know. I haven’t done it in years.”
“Have you eaten today?”
I shake my head.
“Do you want to eat?”
I shake my head again.
“Alright, toke up,” he says as he lights the joint before deeply inhaling.
My mouth drops as I watch this superstar professional football player smoke weed right before my eyes.
“What are you doing?” I gasp. “You aren’t supposed to drink alcohol during the season, let alone do drugs!”
Trevor scoffs. “Please, weed can’t even be considered a drug.”
“Still. If you get UA’d, you’re done for.”
“You think they are going to piss test me? Their star quarterback? Yeah, right,” he says with an eye roll, inhaling one more time before he holds the burning joint out to me.
I hesitate for a moment before taking it from him and lightly inhaling. I cough immediately, the distinct flavor burning my throat as my lungs desperately try to clear it.
“There you go,” Trevor nods. “Better you cough, the better you’re off.”
A calming haze slowly wraps around me within minutes, the constant nausea that I’ve lived with for months now begins to slowly fade as a sense of relief fills me. Trevor takes another hit before passing it to me. I think about passing, but really, I just want to hold onto this feeling, so I inhale again, surprisingly able to hold the smoke in for a little longer before I go into another coughing fit.
Trevor takes it back as I settle against the headboard, closing my eyes as I take several slow breaths. We sit in comfortable silence for several moments before I speak.
“How do you do it?”
“Do what?” he asks.
“Deal with all the pain from you and Erica, the isolation from your friends, from your family.”
He stares at me blankly as he raises an eyebrow.
“We having a therapy session?”
I chuckle to myself, not quite sure where that all came from. I’ve always wondered but never thought it was appropriate to ask. I guess being stoned paired with the whole dying thing has made me lose a bit of my couth.
Trevor stares at me for a moment, like he’s contemplating what to say before he blows out a deep breath and shakes his head.
“I don’t really have a choice. These are the cards I’ve been dealt,” he shrugs.
“You’re still in love with her. It’s written across your face anytime she’s in the room.” I say as I let my head rest against my shoulder as I watch him.
He purses his lips but doesn’t deny it as he nods.
“I’ll never not love Erica Pembrooke. But I blew it, long before I ever realized it. The shit I pulled back in college was awful, I regret it. I really do. But I was fucking desperate. I felt her slipping through my fingers, and I panicked, tried to hold on to us the best I could, but I only ended up causing me and everyone that I cared about pain.” He stares at the blank wall in front of him for several seconds, a far off look in his bright blue eyes before he shakes himself out of it and faces me.
“There’s your answer, I guess. I don’t have a choice other than to suck it up and keep pushing forward. I know the guys have never looked at me the same since everything, especially Seb. Honestly, I could drop off the face of this earth and no one but Erica would miss me too much.”
“I would,” I say softly, my heart suddenly hurting for Trevor.
He gives me a barely there smile as he nods and faces the ceiling.
“Appreciate that, Freckles.”
“You’re a good guy, Trevor. You hide it with a bunch of bullshit but when you love, you love hard. Is that really something you can be faulted for?”
He doesn’t say anything as he continues staring at the ceiling.
“You deserve someone who can love you the way you love others. Erica was your first love, not your last.”
His head turns to face me, a surprised look gleaming in his eye before he shrugs his shoulders and slips that nonchalant mask back into place.
“That’s enough emotional shit for me. You ready to eat or you need to get more stoned?”
My stomach doesn’t repel the idea of food as much as it normally does, but it’s not nearly welcoming to the idea yet, so I nod towards the bag.
“What else do we got?”
Slater
I’m losing her.
My best friend, the love of my life, my fucking person is dying and there isn’t a goddamn thing I can do about it. I’ve never felt this helpless, this hopeless. Even my mom had more spirit in her, more hope.
She’s been losing so much weight, literally withering away in front of my eyes and most days she can hardly hold down a piece of bread. Her ribs are showing, her hip bones protruding, and her muscle has virtually disappeared overnight. She can’t even walk on her own anymore and the worst part is despite her oncologist ramping up her treatment, going for a more aggressive approach, they aren’t seeing a change. In fact, the last time we were there, they said it’s spread even more.
I can’t even sleep anymore. I’m too terrified that if I do, I’ll wake up, and she’ll be gone. Every time my body wins the battle, and my eyes drift closed, my first thought is that when I wake up the next morning, I’ll find her cold and stiff beside me. Just like Ross found Beth. It’s a thought that has been haunting me to my core.
I haven’t even let myself fathom what I’ll do if I lose her because I can’t. I fucking can’t. I won’t survive it. She’s my rock, my soulmate…my fucking everything.
I’ve done my best to stay positive, at least in front of Scar. I try not to let my bone-deep fear show when I’m home, but I know I’m starting to slip up. I worry about her and me not being home as she struggles day in and out is taking a toll on me. I want to be with her, I’ve told her that playing football isn’t nearly as important as being there for her, but every time I bring it up she vehemently disagrees.
I know part of it is because she feels like she’s been burdening all of us. She won’t even let her dad and brothers come over because she doesn’t want them to see how hard of a time she’s really having, which is driving them all crazy. I text Ross practically daily, giving him updates. The other reason I suspect is the scarier one. The one where Scar doesn’t want those around her to change their lives because she doesn’t think she will be here for long.
I’ve known her for twenty years. I know her, probably better than anyone in the world. I know how her brain works and I know that the same thoughts ran through her own mother’s head when she was battling the same disease. Ross had told me himself. It’s one of the biggest reasons why her pushing him and the rest of the family away is hurting him so much. It’s hurting her too. She just won’t admit it.
I got a text from Scar an hour ago. She asked if I could pretty please pick up some food on the way home. It wasn’t just one thing that finally sounded good like it has been here and there. No. It was a grocery list of places to go to, and I couldn’t have been more excited to do so.
She’s basically been on a liquid diet for weeks so the fact that she requested all of this food has hope soaring inside me. Maybe we are turning a corner, maybe she will start getting better.
Even I don’t buy the shit I’m trying to sell myself, but I have to at least try. I have to at least hope.
I gather the various to-go bags that I picked up on my way home. I’ve got mac and cheese from Chik-fil-A, chicken noodle soup from PCC, nachos from the little taqueria down the street from the training center, and even a cinnamon roll from Sally’s Sweet Treats.
My phone dings in my pocket as I shut the car door and walk up the front steps. It’s probably Trev. He told me he was coming to town and said he wanted to come check on Scar. I was able to text him and tell him that I’d check to see how Scar was feeling just before practice began. I’ll get back to him as soon as I get this food up to my girl.
When I step inside, I’m surprised that she isn’t on the couch. After her fall, I pretty much all but insist she wait until I’m home before going up or down the stairs, which I know emotionally is driving her crazy.
I start making my way to check the bathroom for her when I pause. A light sound of laughter comes from upstairs. My brows furrow as I turn and slowly start making my way towards it. There’s no way she made it all the way up the stairs on her own. Unless she really is feeling better.
Suddenly, I hear a deep baritone laugh come from the bedroom, sending my stomach to the ground in an instant. What the fuck? Pushing the door open quickly, I’m surprised to see Trevor sitting on the end of my bed while Scar is leaning against the headboard. The bubble machines are going so it’s more bubbles than air really but I’m still able to see a wide smile on Scar’s face.
Fuck. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a smile like that. Can’t tell you how much I missed it.
“Baby!” She smiles wide before giggling.
“Baby?” I ask curiously with a chuckle. “You’re my baby, since when am I your baby?”
“Since always,” she says with a smile before she frowns and pauses. “Well, not always. You used to be married to Nikki while I was heartbrokenly in love with you. Quite rude of you to marry someone that’s not me.”
My eyebrows raise before she begins giggling to herself again. It’s at that moment I take the time to notice the smell. Glancing down at the table I see two burnt roaches sitting on the table and a lighter. I raise an accusing eyebrow to Trevor who gives me a cheesy grin.
“Did you get my woman stoned?” I ask.
He doesn’t even try to hide his laughter as he nods.
“Fuck, yeah. She’s hilarious too.”
“What are you doing getting stoned, during season no less? They let you do whatever the hell you want in Texas?” I ask dubiously.
“Pretty much. Long as I get those numbers on the scoreboard.”
I roll my eyes as I shake my head at him before facing Scar, bending down to her level before pressing my lips against hers. She loops her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss before I cup her face to do the same.
When she pulls away she has a sweet dazed smile on her face as she looks up at me.
“Hi,” she whispers softly.
I can’t help but smile as my eyes run over her face.
“Hi, baby. How are you feeling?”
“Good, hungry.”
“I love that,” I say as I lift the bags in my hand up, spreading them out on the bed for her. “Your banquet, my queen.”
Her eyes light up as she opens the mac and cheese first, taking a bite before letting out an audible moan.
“Oh my god, I’ve missed food. It hasn’t tasted good in so long.”
I smile as I run a hand over her back and nod.
“I’m glad. We’ll let you eat. Holler if you need me, okay?”
I give Trevor a look that says he needs to follow me, and thankfully, the little asshole does. We are just stepping into the kitchen when I turn on him, crossing my arms over my chest as I narrow my eyes.
“What are you doing here?”
He shrugs as he opens my fridge and begins rifling around.
“I told you I was in town.”
“No, you told me you were coming to town. You didn’t tell me that you were already in town and spending the day at my house.”
Trevor turns to me, taking a bite of some leftovers from last night as he shrugs.
“Does it matter?”
I scoff. “Uh, yeah. It does. Scar is sick, Trevor. I know that it’s hard for you to grasp the concept of putting others before yourself, but she didn’t need you barging in here and making yourself at home. No doubt smoking the joints was your idea. How did she even get upstairs? You carried her? What else did you do while I was gone?” I ask, the accusation in my tone clear.
Trevor watches me with half-lidded eyes, the rest of his face expressionless.
“Yeah, smoking was my idea, and it gave her an appetite, so I’d chalk that up to a good fucking idea. Of course I carried her upstairs, she nearly busted her face just walking to the couch. Though I don’t think those are the things you actually care about. Ask what you really want to, Slater. You don’t trust me-”
“Fuck no, I don’t! Why should I? Look at your track record, Trev! You’re about as untrustworthy as it gets. What the hell am I supposed to think when I come home and find another man in my bed, with my sick and vulnerable girlfriend.”
Trevor scoffs as he shakes his head at me.
“You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”
“Am I? Last time you saw Scarlett, it was after we had a threesome. Me assuming you tried to pick up where we left off isn’t too much of a stretch, is it?”
Trevor actually looks hurt for a moment as his eyebrows furrow. He shakes his head as he looks at his feet while he speaks.
“I can’t believe you think I’d do that to you.”
“I don’t know what to think when it comes to you, Trev. For close to a decade you’ve been a wildcard, and it’s never affected my life, so I haven’t made it my business. But when you involve Scarlett, it becomes my business.”
Trevor’s eyes come up to me, irritation and a small trace of pain in them as he crosses his arms.
“I just wanted to check on her. Erica said she hasn’t been doing well. She’s my friend.”
“Since when?” I laugh.
“I’m gonna give you a pass because I know you’re only being a dick because you’re insecure and scared shitless. And you might not believe me, but I only had good intentions coming here. I just wanted to check on my friends, both of you.”
The sincerity in his words makes me pause for a moment. It’s so unlike Trevor. He’s usually all cocky confidence, self-centered me first attitude. Not…this.
“I’m gonna head out. Had some plans I didn’t want to miss this weekend anyways,” he says as he shoulder checks me on his way out the kitchen.
He grabs a bag that was resting against the side of the couch before he opens the front door, speaking without even turning around.
“Tell Freckles I said bye and that I’m here if she needs anything.” He pauses before looking over his shoulder briefly. “And I do mean anything.”
With that, he shuts the door and is gone.
Fucking asshole.
For some reason, I feel like I’m the one that’s been a prick, though. Who could blame me? This is Trevor Michaels we’re talking about. How was I supposed to know what his intentions were? I won’t trust anyone with Scar. She’s worth too much.
Blowing out a breath, I run a hand over my buzzed head before making my way up the stairs. When I open the door, a smile touches my face when I see several empty containers already surrounding Scar.
“How is it?” I ask as I come to sit next to her.
She smiles at me before leaning forward, pressing her lips against mine before abandoning her food and laying on me.
“Sooo good!”
I smile as I hold her to me before she sits up a bit and kisses me. Turning my head, I cup her face as her tongue slides against mine, deepening the kiss before she moves her lips to my cheek and down my neck.
“I miss you,” she whispers against my skin.
“I’m right here, baby.”
“No,” she says as she sits up. “I miss you. We haven’t been able to…do anything really in a while, and I miss it.”
Understanding dawns on me as I run my hand up and down her back.
“I know where you’re going with this, and we’ve already been over it. It hasn’t been on my mind even for a second. There are a lot more important things in life than sex.”
She pouts, her lower lip almost sticking out as her brows furrow.
“So you haven’t thought about sex with me in weeks? Haven’t missed it?”
“Well, of course I do. But I don’t want you to spend your time worrying about it. I want you to be taken care of before we even think about anything like that, okay?”
“What about you?” she asks.
“What about me?”
“Are you taken care of? Have you been taking care of yourself?” she asks, her soft voice suddenly taking on a seductive rasp as she looks at me.
I swallow as I watch her slowly sit up more until she is resting on her knees.
