Hey, it's me – remember? I was wondering if I could rent some space in your studio. I've got a project and need solitude and some great lighting for a new painting. Let me know.
He texted me back almost immediately.
Katie McD – where have you been, sug? Sure. Come on by and check the schedule. There's one small room open this month so you can take it if you want. Just buy me some weed and I'll be fine. Glad to hear from you.
I was really excited to start the painting, needing something to keep me occupied while we waited for the transplant and to see how Liam responded to the treatment.
I put my sketchbook away and went to the bedroom but noticed that Drake was gone. He was up showering, the sound of the water and his contented hum filtering in from the bathroom. I went back to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. When it was done, I poured a cup and went to the window overlooking the street. Snow had fallen in the night and the neighborhood was covered in white, thick layers of it coating the bare limbs of the trees, drifts against the curbs and on top of parked cars. It was really quite beautiful, covering up the grime of the city.
Drake emerged from the bathroom, a towel around his waist, his hair damp and wild, his skin still a bit moist. He looked – delectable. In that moment, I wanted to kiss him all over, but he wasn't into being the object of a woman's attention. He was the one giving attention to the object of his desire. Maybe one day, he'd relax enough with me that he'd want me to be the one to seduce him. He saw me standing by the window and came to me, smiling.
"There you are," he said, pulling me into his embrace. "I have a meeting with the oncologist about my test results. My tech promised me he'd work on the test last night so he should have finished the tissue study and sent the results over by now."
"How certain is it? As his father, are you more likely to be a tissue match?"
He shook his head. "Not necessarily. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It depends on the roll of the genetic dice. Identical twins are the best source, and then siblings, but sometimes a perfect stranger can be the best match."
I leaned against him, my cup of coffee on the windowsill. "If you are a match, how soon before they start the procedure?"
"Hopefully, right away. Depends on how the oncologist wants to proceed. I won't be feeling too well for a week or so, while they stimulate my bone marrow, so I hope we can do our scene tonight when I'm done with all my meetings."
I glanced up at him, a thrill of excitement racing through me.
"I think you're ready," he said and stroked my cheek with the backs of his fingers. "If I tried it too soon, you'd be overwhelmed. Now, you're more familiar with submission so you'll be able to enjoy every element."
I sighed and slipped my arms around his waist. Then, the landline rang and Drake let me go, ending the embrace as he went to the phone.
"Drake Morgan," he said. He listened for a moment. "Oh, hello. Thanks for calling. What have you got for me?" He listened for a moment and then a look came over his face and I wasn't certain if it was good news or bad news. "Are you certain?" he said, his voice low. He stood with one hand on his forehead as if he'd developed a sudden headache. "Thank God," he said, shaking his head slowly. He was quiet for a moment, but I could tell by the sound of his breathing he was very happy, an expression close to joy on his face. "Best possible match?"
There was silence and then Drake gave a huge sigh. It was great news about the tissue match. My heart squeezed for him – he was hoping so much he could donate and help the son he never knew and now, he'd just received the answer he'd been waiting for.
"OK, thank you so much for calling."
Drake hung up, his back to me. He clasped his hands behind his head and stood there, watching out the living room window, not saying anything. Finally, I went to him and stood behind him, wondering what I should do.
"I'm so happy, Drake."
He nodded, but didn’t turn around. Finally, his arms dropped and his head bowed.
"Christ," he said, exhaling heavily. "I was so worried. There was a chance I wouldn't be a match, so I didn't want to get my hopes up…"
I went closer and threaded my arms around his waist, laying my head against his back. I didn’t say anything but I wanted him to know he had me if he needed me in any way. His hands clasped overtop of mine and we stood there for a while, the noise from the street filtering up through the windows.
Finally, he turned around and embraced me, his arms slipping around my waist, pulling me against his body tightly. My arms went around his shoulders and then he buried his face in the crook of my neck, saying nothing, but I could feel the tension in his body releasing slowly. I knew he was fighting tears from the way he breathed, ragged, alternating between holding his breath and exhaling.