ONLY FOR LOVE, page 2
part #1 of Only For #2 Series
“I weigh the same thing I do every single day,” I inform him, knowing it’ll just piss him off.
“Well, your scale must be broken.” He pushes away from the island and comes over to me, grabbing the protein shake and dumping it into the sink. “No sugar, no carbs,” he orders. “It’s not good for you and makes you puffy.”
“Okay,” I reply, not willing to argue with him. Instead, I walk over to the fridge and grab the eggs out of it. “Why are you up so early?”
“I have to go to work so you can afford to not go to work,” he snaps at me. “I have surgery at eight.”
“That’s earlier than usual,” I respond, grabbing a pot. “I have a meeting with Cheryl this morning at ten.” I mention the head of the fundraising committee for the hospital where he’s the head of neurosurgery. “We are doing the final touches on the charity auction we are doing next month.” He sits back down on his stool. “It’s a bachelor auction,” I tell him, as if he’s listening to me. “I was thinking of reaching out to some of my cousins to see if they would…” I trail off when he looks up at me.
“You will not.” He shakes his head. “I have an image to uphold and having your scrappy hockey player relatives coming to my place of work isn’t a good look. Some of them don’t even have teeth.”
I shake my head. “That’s not true,” I mumble.
“Why don’t you leave the bachelor part to Cheryl and you take care of the rest? If you are coming to the hospital today, don’t forget what I said.” I nod at him. “When you are there, you are representing me.”
“I know.” I put water into the pot and then rinse out the protein shake he tossed into the sink. “Do you think you’ll have time for lunch?”
“Not sure. Depends on if anyone else is around that I need to talk to.” He pushes away from the island, meaning if someone else is more important than you, you can fend for yourself. “I’m not sure if I’m coming home tonight or not.”
“Okay. Maybe I can come stay with you in the city, then.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I have an early flight to New York in the morning, and we both know you disturb my sleep with all the noise you make.”
“How long will you be in New York?” I ask him, again ignoring another dig he throws my way.
“Why? You going to take off again and not be here when I come home?” he snaps. He reminds me of the time he said he was going to be gone for two days, so I snuck out and went to my best friend’s baby shower. Only for him to call me in the middle of it and tell me to get my ass back home because we had dinner plans he never told me about.
“I have too much to do with the auction to take off, so I’ll be here.”
He seems satisfied with my answer as he stops beside me. “Poached eggs are a perfect breakfast for you,” he says cheerfully. “Do you need me to pick out your outfit for today, or can you do it yourself?”
“I was going to wear my white summer dress with the blue flowers on it.”
“Isn’t that one sleeveless?” He tilts his head to the side. “Your arms are not the best part of you.” He smiles. “How about you wear something to cover those flappy arms. Besides, you aren’t going for tea; it’s a meeting, you dress accordingly.”
“Okay, I’ll wear the green pencil skirt with the white wraparound cotton shirt,” I tell him and he smiles.
“That sounds beautiful.” He nods. “Now, don’t forget to put your best foot forward.” He kisses me. “Have a good day.”
I nod at him as he grabs his iPad and walks out the front door. The pot of water is boiling on the stove now, and I think about making the poached egg but opt to not eat anything and grab a cup of coffee instead.
Settling in with my cup of coffee, I make my round of texts to my family members.
I text my father first.
Me:
Hey, Dad, just touching base. Hope you and Mom are well.
I press send before I tell him how much I miss him some days, and pull up the text thread with Ariella, my best friend. I speak to her more than anyone because she is the one who asks me the least questions, and I don’t have to lie to her constantly.
Me:
How is baby Jagger? Send me some cute pictures.
I smile before pulling up the text thread with my sister, Zara, and the last time she messaged me was two weeks ago. She sent me pictures of the twins, and I had a small breakdown at how big they have gotten and then hated myself for not being around more.
My last message to her was me telling her I hoped I could visit soon. Trent won’t approve, but I should still try.
Grabbing my cup of coffee, I walk up the stairs and toward my bedroom. Trent and I have had separate bedrooms for the last three years. He just couldn’t sleep properly with me in the bed. Apparently, I tossed and turned too much and woke him each time. So we have bedrooms at the opposite ends of the house.
Walking in, I see the bed already made since I make it as soon as I get up. I start the shower and take off my gym clothes, putting them in the donate pile that I make once a month, before stepping into the shower. It’s always full of the clothes Trent doesn’t like me to wear.
I take my time doing my hair, parting it in the middle and then smoothing it down. I got my black hair from my mother, who has the same color. I tuck it behind my ears before doing my soft, everyday makeup. My crystal-blue eyes pop even more when I apply the black mascara.
Stepping into my walk-in closet, I see all my clothes tucked away neatly behind see-through cupboard doors to keep the dust off them. All my clothing is sorted by type and then by color. I walk over to the middle of the room and grab a matching white-bra-and-panty set before I slip the green skirt on. I zip up the side zipper before grabbing the white shirt and tying it in a bow on the side. I then go to grab the pair of sky-high nude pumps I usually wear, with a peep toe since it’s summer outside.
By the time I switch my things into a matching-colored Hermes bag, I’m right on schedule. My car is still outside and it’s even more ridiculously hot out, so I start the car and leave the door open for a second before getting in.
My stomach rumbles as I make my way over to the hospital and I think about stopping and quickly grabbing some egg whites from the local coffee shop, but then I might be late and I will never, ever risk being late. I pull up to the hospital and scan the visitor card I use.
Holding my purse in my hand, I walk into the hospital, the cool air hitting me right away. The atrium is filled with plants and the ceiling is all windows, making it extra bright and cheery. I make my way toward the elevator, but stop when I see Cheryl standing laughing with someone. His back is to me, but he’s wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. I can see he has tattoos on his arms. Cheryl spots me over the stranger’s shoulder, and I can hear her softly say, “There she is.”
I put on the smile I have to have on. The smile I’m trained to have when I’m in the hospital or anywhere around Trent or his friends. It happens in slow motion, or maybe that’s the way I think it happens in my head. Everything around me stops, feeling like even the people stop in their tracks. The sound of my own heartbeat thumps in my ears when I see his side profile and the smile on my face almost falters, but I quickly recover it.
“Kirby, I’d like for you to meet my co-chair,” Cheryl says with glee. “Lexi Yoder.”
two
Kirby
I turn my head and I’m having an out-of-body experience when I see her. I feel like I’m being kicked in the stomach as I watch her walk across the room. She looks just as perfect as the first time I saw her at my best friend’s baby shower. Her green skirt sways side to side just past her knees, and her white top is tied around her tiny waist. I swear, the only things I can hear are the clicking from her sky-high heels and the shallow breathing coming from my chest.
“I’d like for you to meet my co-chair,” Cheryl says with her head high. “Lexi Yoder.”
“Lexi,” I say her name and stare into her eyes, and just like the first time, I feel like everything has left my body. The nerves hit me right away. My heartbeat picks up, feeling like I’m on the treadmill going a million miles a minute. My palms get a bit sweaty while the back of my neck feels like the sun is burning into it. I shake my head. “This is a surprise.” I extend my hand to her instead of kissing her cheek, which is what I would like to do.
“Kirby,” she says, reaching out her hand, a smile plastered on her face, and her eyes shield any emotion she might have.
“What are you doing here?” she asks and then she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, that question is rude.”
“Not rude at all.” I put my hands in my pockets before I do something stupid like try to touch her. “I’m from Phoenix. You?”
“My husband works in this hospital. He is the head of neurosurgery,” she replies, mentioning her husband and his title. “Nice to see you again.”
“Wait, you two know each other?” Cheryl asks, looking from me to Lexi, who stands with both her hands holding her together in front of her.
“We share a two-month-old nephew. My best friend is married to her best friend,” I reply, mentioning Jaxon and Ariella.
She smiles at Cheryl, avoiding looking back at me. “Well then, this is fantastic news. I’ve just strong-armed Kirby to join the list of bachelors,” she states. I can see the look in Lexi’s eye flinch, but she quickly covers it up.
“Strong-arm is a bit of a stretch.” I nod. “It’s a good cause and I’m always happy to help.”
“He’s a very generous donor for the children’s ward as well as—” I hold up my hand, making Cheryl stop talking.
“I don’t think we need to bore Lexi with that.” I quickly stop her from saying the rest. “I’m surprised you didn’t get any of your cousins to come and join the auction. How am I the only hockey player?”
“It’s summer vacation and I know how much they like their downtime, so I didn’t want to bother them.” The excuse flows out so easily, but I know she’s lying straight through her teeth. Her family is the most generous family I’ve ever met in my life. Her uncle even runs one of the biggest foundations in the hockey world, and she has a couple of cousins who run hockey camps in the summer for young underprivileged players.
“Well, I guess I can make a couple of phone calls and see if any of my friends are in town.” I look at both of them.
“I don’t think we could ask that of you,” Lexi quickly speaks up, and I can feel the tremor in her voice. “I think we have nine bachelors already.” She looks at Cheryl. “Ten with Kirby.”
“More bachelors equal more money.” Cheryl raises her eyebrows.
“This is very true,” Lexi tries to cover up. “We will take whoever we can.”
“I’ll make a couple of calls,” I tell them, “and I’ll let you both know.”
“I can’t wait!” Cheryl squeals. “You have my number.” I nod. “And I gave you Jimmy’s number too. He’s the head bachelor in charge.” She laughs. “He will let you know everything you need to know.”
“I’ll call him when I leave here,” I assure her. “Ladies, have a great day.” I look back at Lexi. “It’s good to see you again, Lexi.”
“It’s nice to see you,” she answers out of respect before I turn and make my way over to the elevators. I press the button going up and then shake my hands to get rid of the tingling that started when she walked up.
As Cheryl and Lexi walk toward the other side, I shake my head. “She’s married, you dickhead,” I remind myself as I step into the elevator. Seeing her again was something I thought would never happen. I mean, chances are we would have crossed paths again thanks to Jaxon, Ariella, and Jagger, but I never expected to see her here. Just like the first time, her beauty literally took my breath away.
My eyes roam over Lexi as the elevator doors begin to close. She moves like an actor starring in a play. Every movement seems planned, thought out. Like she’s not really existing in the real world. Her eyes are still just as guarded as they were the first time I met her. She looked like she was going to crawl out of her skin when she saw me. The ding sounds and the doors open, and I look forward, stepping off the elevator.
I walk down the white hallway toward the office I visit often when I’m in town. The door is open, so I knock on the brown door and see her head look up. Kylie immediately smiles at me. “Well, there he is”—she pushes away from the desk, walking around it and coming over to me—“my older brother.”
“The best one there is,” I gloat, wrapping my arms around her.
“If you are the best one there is, why didn’t you bring me coffee?” She glares at me as she walks back around her desk and sits down. “The best one would have brought me coffee and a muffin.”
I sit down in the chair in front of her desk. “Noted for next time.”
“You said that last week when you came to visit me.” She picks up her pen and taps the desk.
“I just came from practice,” I tell her, even though the season is over, I practice year-round to make sure that I’m in tip-top shape. I do take two weeks off, sometimes more, but I always make sure to add a workout wherever I am. “I haven’t even eaten anything, so why don’t I go and visit with some of the kids and their families first.” I point over to the door. “Then I’ll take you for lunch.”
“Oh, that’s better than coffee.” She rocks on her elbows.
“Besides, I have to still convince you to come and work for my foundation.”
“You don’t even have a foundation,” she points out. “You have an idea to help people get on their feet after leaving abusive relationships.”
“Yes, and you have all the smarts to make it bigger than just my idea.” She rolls her eyes. “Kylie, no one knows what these people are going through more than you.”
“Stop bringing up my childhood trauma”—she holds up her hand—“and my high school trauma. You act like we didn’t both grow up in the same house, with the same stepfather.”
“May he be rotting in hell,” I add, smiling. “Actually, I think hell is a bit too good for the likes of him. What’s under hell?”
“I have no idea, but I’m sure he’s there.” She leans back. “Now, if you can get out of here so I can do my job.”
“Oh, by the way,” I say, getting up, “I have tickets for the fundraiser they are doing next month.”
“The bachelor auction?” she asks, her eyebrows push together and I nod.
“Dude, those tickets are a thousand dollars apiece,” she gasps. “They have invited only the richest of the rich.”
“Why do you act like you aren’t sitting on a multimillion-dollar inheritance that grew twice in the last five years since you got it?” I point at her. “I also just got talked into being one of the bachelors, so I get the perk of two tickets.”
“Oh.” She laughs. “I know a couple of friends who would love to get into your pants.”
“Eww.” I wince and she laughs. “The last time I met a friend of yours”—I use fingers to do quotation marks—“she tried to tell me she could tie a knot with the cherry stem and then spit in my face.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “It was a fifty-fifty chance. She’s gotten way better now.” She sighs deeply. “Besides, she can’t afford that price.” She points at me and winks. “But if you come on down to the local bowling alley, I’m sure someone would bet up to a hundred dollars for you.” I laugh at her and turn to walk out. “I might need a dress.”
“So go buy a fucking dress,” I bark. “You have a credit card I gave you to use.”
“I’m saving it for a rainy day,” she bites back at my retreating form.
“Well, it’s raining.” I look over my shoulder. “Go get a dress.”
I walk back to the elevator and head up to the pediatric floor. I pose for a couple of pictures as I meet with different families and talk about their struggles. I sit with a funny four-year-old who is battling stage 4 brain cancer, and my heart aches for her and her family.
My head is down when I walk out of the wing toward the elevators and I look up, seeing Cheryl and Lexi standing there, talking to a man with a white coat. A doctor for sure. “There he is, the star of the day.”
“Dr. Visabell”—she looks to the doctor—“this is Kirby Materson,” she says and I reach out my hand. “Dr. Visabell is the chief of surgery.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Materson,” he responds with a smile.
“The pleasure is all mine,” I reply, looking at him and then glancing at Lexi, who has the same fake smile plastered on her face that she had before.
“We were just going over a couple of things for the auction and we thought about the best idea,” Cheryl says. “Well, Lexi did.” She gives her the credit and Lexi looks down at the floor instead of taking the praise. “A choreographed dance. Something like the waltz.”
“Oh my.” I laugh. “You thought of that?” I ask Lexi, who looks up and laughs.
“I just thought it would be nice to have the winner dance with her date,” she explains and shrugs and then looks over my shoulder, and I can see right away that fear seeps into her. She quickly masks it and her smile fills her face. “Honey,” she says and I look over to see a man walking out of the swinging door. He’s wearing blue scrubs; his hair looks like he just styled it. He looks up, seeing Lexi, and I notice something in his face, but then he quickly looks at Dr. Visabell and his whole demeanor changes.
“I was just looking for you,” he says to Lexi, coming over and bending to kiss her lips, then looks up at Dr. Visabell. “George,” he greets, nodding at him, “nice to see you on my floor.”
“I had a meeting with these two lovely ladies to discuss the auction,” he replies.
I stand here waiting for him to look at me, and he finally does. “Hi, I’m Kirby.” I hold out my hand for his and he reluctantly takes it.
