The Last Seduction Page 4

  “Got it.”

  “So you understand we aren’t together.”

  “Yes.”

  “Because I know you, and I know you’ll try to get me back. It seems to take you losing me before you do anything for our relationship.”

  Hannah hung her head. Sasha, for the most part, was right.

  “I want to try, Sasha,” she blurted. “Seeing you that sick, seeing you in here…I don’t want to lose you.”

  There was silence, and Hannah looked up to see Sasha wiping away tears. “Damn you, Hannah. Damn you. It shouldn’t take something like this for you to want to try.”

  Hannah rose and handed her some tissue. Then she tried to hold her hand, but Sasha snatched hers away. “No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to touch me.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes, and Hannah knew she needed to back off. She stood at the foot of the bed. “I’ll do whatever you want, Sash. Just focus on getting well.” She left her and slipped quietly out the door.

  * * *

  Hannah sank into the sofa with a bottle of water and propped her feet on the ottoman. There was a ball game on, one she wanted desperately to pay attention to, but she just couldn’t seem to focus. She drank the water and stared through the television as the Tar Heels battled the Blue Devils. She heard the elevated voices of the announcers, but she couldn’t even blink because her mind was back on that night just a few days ago.

  The night she thought she was going to lose Sasha. The night Sasha lay limp in her arms with her eyes rolled back in her head and her body on fire with fever. It was a moment she’d never forget. Her nightmares made sure of it.

  She’d thought of little else since. And seeing Sasha in that hospital bed, hooked up to machines and in and out of consciousness, she wasn’t sure she’d ever get over it.

  “What up? Duke winning?” Casey asked as he breezed through the living room with his large earphones on. He’d been playing video games. She’d heard him yelling and cursing across the house. He often unplugged to eat or drink and then he’d disappear again, back into his abyss of a bedroom. He opened the fridge and pulled out a can of Monster. He opened it and slurped like he hadn’t drank for days. “Mom?”

  “Hmm? I don’t know.”

  She continued to stare.

  Casey stood behind her drinking his energy drink. “Damn, we’re down two.” When she didn’t respond, he nudged her shoulder. “I see you finished getting the spare bedroom ready.”

  She blinked but felt heavy coming out of her daze. “Yeah, just finished.”

  “It looks nice. Sasha will like it.”

  “I hope so.” She’d cleared out all the boxes they’d kept in there for storage and moved the furniture around so the bed was the focal point of the room. Then she’d dusted, vacuumed, and spread on the new, freshly washed sheets and comforter. A warm scented candle was currently spreading its fragrance throughout the room, something she knew Sasha would appreciate. She’d also placed some photographs of Sasha and Casey and Sasha and their late dog, Freddie Mercury, on the dresser. Sasha adored Casey, and she’d adored Freddie. Losing him the previous year had been detrimental to them all. But the photos were so good and they reminded Hannah of happier times, and she knew Sasha would love them.

  “She will.” He took another loud sip. “The pics are a nice perk. So, what’s the deal? She actually agreed to come here?”

  “She didn’t have much of a choice.”

  “Agh. That explains it.”

  “Explains what?”

  “Why she agreed to move back under the same roof as you.”

  He nudged her again to let her know he was joking, but she didn’t react. She felt like a slug, like she just might ooze off the couch in post-traumatic sadness.

  “You okay?” He knelt, placing his elbows on the back of the couch.

  She looked over at him and noticed he’d lowered his earphones. “I’ll be fine.”

  He was silent for a long moment. “I’m scared too, Mom.”

  She felt her eyes widen with surprise.

  “Scared she almost died, scared she’s not here anymore, scared you two will never work it out.”

  Hannah nodded. He was so damned intuitive.

  There was another long silence, and she could smell the berry flavoring of his drink. He was watching her closely.

  “What do you want, Mom? Have you ever asked yourself that?”

  Hannah met his gaze. “I thought I could live without her, give her the separation and see where things went. But now…I can’t lose her, Casey. I just can’t. I love her too damn much.”

  “Then you better figure something out and fast.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Let’s hope it’s not too little too late.”

  Chapter Six

  Sasha stood at the front door a little unsteady on her feet. The day was bright and beautiful and warm, bordering on hot. The queen palms she’d planted years ago blew in the breeze, as did the hibiscus and Mexican prairie bushes. They still had some fresh blooms, but they’d soon dry up in the fierce summer heat.

  “You okay?” Casey cupped her elbow and stepped up to the door to unlock it. He’d been the one to pick her up from the hospital. Why Hannah hadn’t shown, her guess was as good as any. She thought for sure after Hannah had offered to help care for her that she’d at least show to bring her home. But no.

  Casey helped her step inside, and she swooned with dizziness as she did so. She leaned against the entryway wall and inhaled the scents of her former home. Her heart rate sped up and fluttered, and she nearly teared up. The house still smelled the same. Like fresh laundry, recently made meals, and candles.

  “I smell toast,” she said. “And candles.” She’d always had candles burning, and Hannah had often teased her about it. But she liked her home to smell wonderful, inviting. Cozy.

  “Yeah, Mom had toast for breakfast and she put candles everywhere on those warming plates for you. Thought you might like it.”

  Sasha swallowed hard. “I do.”

  He breezed back outside, grabbed her bags, and then closed and locked the door behind them. He led the way.

  “I don’t have to tell you to make yourself at home do I?” She followed him slowly beyond the living room to the hallway and down to the spare bedroom. He pushed open the door and motioned for her to enter.

  “Wow.” They’d cleaned out the room and made it into a proper bedroom. Even decorated it. “It looks so different.”

  He placed her bags near the closet. “You’ve been on Mom for years to do something with all of her junk. Well, she finally did.” He placed his hands on his hips. “Looks good, right?”

  “Yes.” She’d known they’d have to do something to the bedroom to ready it for her, but this, wow, it was overwhelming. She couldn’t have done a better job herself.

  “Notice the candle,” Casey said, pointing.

  She eased onto the bed and held the photo next to the candle. It was one of Casey at age eight or nine.

  “I remember this day,” she said. “You had to wear a tie for a school tea party. And your mom and I didn’t know how to tie one, so we had to ask a guy at the store to do it.”

  Casey laughed and sat next to her. “I looked damn good too. Suave.”

  She touched the photo. “Such the looker. You always have been.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I miss you, you know,” he said.

  “I know. I miss you too.”

  They embraced in a light hug, and she was touched and surprised at just how long he held her. When he pulled away, she could’ve sworn he wiped away a tear. They, of course, had continued to see each other after the split, but Casey had preferred to keep their conversations light. She could tell the separation was hurting him, and that’s why he avoided bringing it up. But even if he had, she had no easy answers. Maybe, at the very least, her staying at the house would help them all find some answers.

  “Want me to help you unpack?”

  She glanced at her bags and groaned.
“Maybe later. I think I’d like to nap.”

  He nodded, stood, and sank his hands into his shorts pockets. He still looked tall and lanky in his long shorts and v-neck shirt. But he was sinewy with muscle, and she knew he held a strength that couldn’t be seen with the naked eye. Just like his mother.

  She eased back farther onto the bed and settled into the pillows. Casey covered her with a light throw blanket.

  “Fan on or off?” He stood at the door with his hand on the switch to the ceiling fan.

  “Off.”

  “Okay then. Sweet dreams.”

  “Casey?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Where’s Hannah?”

  He seemed surprised at the question. “She, uh, she thought it would be easier on you if she wasn’t here when you arrived and got comfortable. I think she’s trying to give you some space.”

  Sasha closed her eyes in frustration. “Seems she’s real good at that.” She opened her eyes and found Casey looking crestfallen. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  He didn’t respond, just simply pulled the door partway closed.

  And with that, Sasha stared at the ceiling of her former home, feeling like a stranger and an ass, and allowed her prevailing weakness to carry her off to sleep.

  * * *

  Sasha awoke to find an evening sun slanting at an angle through the partially closed blinds. Clattering came from the kitchen along with muffled voices. She rolled over to look at the bedside clock. It was after five. She’d slept for hours.

  She stirred to sit up and found another blanket had been spread over her and a glass of water was next to the clock on the night table. She grabbed her heavy feeling head as her now bare feet touched the carpeted floor. Someone had cared for her while she slept. Covered her up, removed her shoes and socks. Most likely Casey. She’d have to remember to thank him.

  She tried to stand but found it difficult. The walk from the car into the house had felt awkward enough, and her body obviously wasn’t willing to do much more. She sank back onto the bed and groaned. And to her surprise, a knock came from the door.

  “Yes?”

  The door swung open slowly to reveal Hannah carrying a bed tray. “I brought you some soup and iced tea. May I come in?”

  “Please.”

  She crossed to the bed, and Sasha positioned herself in a sitting position back against the headboard. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

  “Nonsense. You need to eat and stay hydrated.”

  Hannah placed the tray in front of her and sat to fold a napkin.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “A little better.”

  “That’s good.” She set the napkin on the tray and watched Sasha with obvious nerves. She smoothed her tanned hands on her khaki shorts, something she did when nervous, and tucked her hair back behind her ears two times too many. Sasha tried to pretend she couldn’t smell her coconut lotion or the way her skin shone against her white tank top.

  “I see you still change into your tank tops when you get home from work.” It was an odd observation, one way too familiar, and Sasha wished she hadn’t shared it. Hannah looked down at her tank.

  “I’m hot when I get home.”

  “Yes…I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Days are getting warmer. Not sure how much longer I can work outdoors like this.”

  Hannah had been running softball tournaments for years for her business, and it meant she was outdoors on a daily basis. The heat often got to her, and she had to be careful.

  Sasha sipped her iced tea. She nearly groaned with pleasure. “This is your mother’s recipe isn’t it?”

  Hannah didn’t even blink. “Of course.”

  “My God, how does she do it?”

  “You know I can’t tell you.”

  Sasha took another long drink, and memories and good feelings began to overwhelm her. The taste of the lemony tea, the smell of Hannah’s lotion mixed with her pheromones, it was all stirring things inside her. Things she’d long forgotten. Things she thought she’d never miss. Her hand shook as she replaced the glass.

  Hannah noticed. “I can put the soup in a mug for you if you like? That way you wouldn’t need to use the spoon.”

  “Don’t be silly, I’m fine. This is fine. This is really nice.” She hesitated but then spooned a bite of what looked like chicken noodle soup. She tried to bring it to her mouth, but her hand shook worse than before and she dropped the spoon back in the bowl, splashing soup on her.

  Hannah quickly dabbed her with the napkin.

  Sasha stopped her by grabbing her hand. They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Sasha spoke, breaking eye contact.

  “It’s this damn PICC line in my arm. It hurts and it’s a pain in the ass. I feel like I can’t move my arm.” She tried to cross her arms across her chest in frustration, but it hurt. Like someone was stabbing her in her inner arm twenty-four seven. She clenched her fist, hating that she looked and felt so needy, so helpless.

  Hannah rose and took the soup. “No problem. I’ll just put it in a mug.”

  “I’m not helpless, Hannah. I’m really not.” She needed her to know that. She needed everybody around her to know that.

  “I know, Sash. I know. You just need some help right now. So please, let us help you.”

  Sasha saw the softness on her face, and she leaned back and sighed. “Okay.”

  “Be right back.”

  Tears filled Sasha’s eyes, and she battled within herself not to cry. She couldn’t afford to. She didn’t have time to feel sorry for herself. Nor did she have the capability. She’d always been a fighter, and nothing about that was going to change. Now or ever.

  Hannah returned with the mug and a gentle smile, and Sasha thanked her. Then she asked to be alone. She needed to eat in silence and make sure no one saw her shaking. She couldn’t handle the pity. Couldn’t handle her own emotions in response to it. She sat and ate and stared at a black TV screen across from her on the dresser. She sipped her soup slowly, carefully, and with each swallow she willed herself to get stronger, better. She knew she could. But the thing that kept gnawing at her wasn’t the shaking or the embarrassment or the feelings of inadequacy. It was the nostalgia she had felt with the iced tea and with Hannah.

  That was the one thing she wasn’t sure she could beat.

  Chapter Seven

  Hannah entered the spare bedroom quietly, trying to retrieve the bed tray without waking Sasha. But as she grabbed hold of the tray and moved it away, Sasha’s eyes fluttered open. She blinked a few times as if trying to focus.

  “Mm, what are you doing?”

  “Just taking this so you can sleep comfortably.” She hadn’t eaten all of the soup, and it concerned Hannah. Sasha had lost weight and she still looked frail. She wished she would eat. “Can I get you anything else? A sandwich maybe?”

  “No, thanks.” Sasha struggled to sit up and swing her legs over the bed. She stood on unsteady feet, wobbling a bit. She stood before Hannah. “I can take that.”

  Hannah wasn’t sure what to do. “That’s not necessary. I got it.” She smiled. Sasha looked as though she’d fall at any given second, and she didn’t want the tray to fall with her, possibly injuring her more.

  Sasha’s face clouded, so Hannah walked to the door quickly before she had a chance to grab the tray. To her surprise and dismay, Sasha followed her into the kitchen, leaning on the walls as she did so.

  Casey, who was making himself a grilled cheese sandwich, eyed Hannah with a concerned look. But when he faced Sasha, he was all smiles.

  “You sleep well, Sash?”

  Sasha eased herself onto a barstool. Her hair was mussed and she wore no makeup. Her sleep shirt and cotton plaid pants were wrinkled. She looked adorable, and Hannah’s heart panged at seeing her sitting in the kitchen that way once more.

  “Yes, thanks.”

  Hannah cleaned up the soup mug and glass and wiped down the tray. “Are
you sure you don’t want a sandwich?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  Casey flipped his grilled cheese. “I’ve made two,” he said. “Want one?”

  Sasha groaned with a smile. “I suppose. It smells so good how can I refuse?”

  Hannah felt herself heat. She hadn’t missed the fact that Sasha wanted nothing from her. But Casey offering was a different story. She hoped she was only reading into things.

  He placed the warm smelling sandwich on a small plate and handed it over. Hannah busied herself making her some iced water. When she placed it in front of her, Sasha merely glanced at her without a word.

  “What time is the nurse coming?” Casey asked.

  “Oh, I forgot about that,” Hannah said, checking the clock. “She’s due any minute.”

  Sasha took a mouse-like bite from her sandwich and scowled at her PICC line. “Maybe I can talk her into pulling this damn thing out.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Hannah said.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t count on anything anymore.”

  Casey gave Hannah another look, and Hannah shrugged. It seemed she was in for it with Sasha. And that was fine. If Sasha needed to take digs at her so be it. It wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it. But still she wished they could get past it. Sasha would be there for a short while, and Hannah didn’t want it to be uncomfortable for anyone.

  The doorbell rang and Hannah crossed to the front door. She opened it to find the most obvious looking lesbian she’d ever seen. Her heart jumped to her throat and then crashed down to her stomach. She almost slammed the door. Wanted to slam the door.

  She didn’t want this woman anywhere near Sasha. Especially now. Not when things were so up in the air and Sasha was vulnerable.

  Not now when she was trying like hell to figure out how to win her back.

  God damn it. Not now.

  “Am I at the right house?” the woman, who was wearing light blue scrubs and standing nearly a foot taller than Hannah, asked. Her blue eyes sparkled and her sizable muscles twitched as she maneuvered her bag. She was tanned, toned, and sporting a perfect dyke haircut with her black as night hair. Definitely Sasha’s type.