Touching Down(75)

Grant flipped to another page, his eyes scanning down it. “Ravi’s place. He’s got a condo in the city. I spent last night and today trying to put a dent in this stuff.”

“Didn’t you have practice today?”

His shoulder rose. “I skipped.”

“You skipped?”

Grant looked up, surprised by my tone. “I let them know if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Crossing my arms, I leaned into the back of the couch. “That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about you putting your whole life on hold for this. I’m worried about you becoming obsessed and possessed and letting Grass take over your entire life.”

Like he was proving my point, he flipped to the next page. “You two are my entire life. This son of a bitch is threatening to take you both away from me. I will let this consume my life if it means finding a way to keep you two here.”

Moving toward him, I put my hand on the page he was reading and lowered it to his side. “You can’t let this consume your life. You can’t give it that kind of power. If you do that, if you abandon everything in your life for this, no matter what happens in the future, Grass wins. It won’t just consume one life or possibly two. It will overtake all three of our lives.” My hand molded around his neck, my thumb rubbing at the rigid muscles. “I’ve been here. I’ve done this. It doesn’t help anyone. But it does threaten to hurt everyone.”

Grant exhaled slowly, his eyes holding mine captive. “I can’t just let go of this. I won’t give up on a chance to help you, however far-fetched or distant or expensive it might be. I won’t give up on the possibility that a cure is out there. Or coming soon.” He set the article behind him on the counter and wound his arms around me.

“I’m not asking you to stop or give up. I’m just asking that you not let it consume your life. Go to practice. Waste time watching movies and throwing popcorn with us. Take Charlie to the park. Make love with me.” My eyebrow lifted and I pressed my body closer. “Live, Grant. Don’t spend your life looking for some loophole to death. Because there isn’t one.”

His dark eyes lightened, an almost playful expression crossing his face. “There is if I find one. Or make one.”

“I think I might almost believe you.”

“Good, because it’s true.” He kissed my forehead then slid out of my arms to head to the fridge. “Okay, you have my word I won’t let all of this take over my life.” His arm flailed in the direction of the giant box of books. “But you can’t ask or expect me to just ignore it all and hope for the best. That’s not my style, and it never has been. I come at anything that challenges those I love with fists raised and teeth bared. That won’t change. But I will still drag my ass to practice, waste time with my girls, take Charlie to the park, and I will definitely remember to make love to you.” His head twisted back at me from where it had been inside the fridge. “Or when the need arises, fuck you up against a wall.”

My hand dropped to the counter ledge to keep me from teetering in place from the way he was looking at me. After a moment, he got back to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of something that was bright green and almost chunky looking.

“Here. Drink this. One every day.” He slid the bottle across the counter toward me and waved at it when I wasn’t in a hurry to open it.

“This looks radioactive. I think I’ll stick to my coffee, thanks though.” My nose curled when I tipped the bottle—it really did have chunks floating around inside it.

“It’s not radioactive. It’s good for you. Every kind of superfood on the planet is blended into that stuff. It’s a million times better than that coffee junk.”

My nose stayed curled. It looked like something the Joker would take a bath in. “Says who?”

“Says everyone in the whole entire medical field.” Grant crossed his arms and gave me a look that boded no argument. “Says me.”

Exhaling, I unscrewed the cap. The scent of grass and earth and something exploded around me.

“Are you trying to kill me?” I hadn’t even lifted it to my lips and I was gagging.

Grant sighed, his eyes lifting to the ceiling. “Try the opposite.”

“This stuff’s supposed to help?”

“Well, it sure isn’t going to hurt.”

The closer I lifted the bottle to my mouth, the more the offensive scent blanketed me. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been drinking one of those every day for the past three years, and look at me. Healthy as an ox.” He held out his arms, making his shirt stretch across his chest, which looked mammoth.