“Nothing. It just seems like maybe you’re into him.”

“What! I am not.”

“It’s okay if you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Okay … but if you are, just know I will support you.”

“I know.”

“And, it’s okay to tell him about your cancer.”

Why? So he can treat me like everyone else? As if I’m fragile?

“Genna, I am not telling him, or anyone here who doesn’t know, about my cancer. Don’t you get that? I just want to be me.”

“Aundrea, you will always be you.”

“No, I won’t. I will always be known as the girl with cancer unless I make it clear beforehand that there is more to me.”

“Aundrea, you don’t have to be scared to tell people about it.”

“I’m not! Why does everyone always think I’m scared? Is it too much to ask to just be treated normally for once?”

“Okay. I’ll drop it.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

As if someone’s ears were burning, my phone beeps with a Facebook friend request. Parker. I can’t accept it. I don’t want him reading the comments from my friends and family. My parents wanted me to start one of those blogs where I update my progress with my Hodgkin’s and where I’m at with treatment. It’s too depressing having to write out all the details, so I don’t. Instead, I get daily messages or posts asking how I’m doing.

My inbox shows I have one new message.

Parker: Are you going to ignore my request?

Me: Were your ears burning?

Parker: Are you thinking about me still?

Me: No. Genna and I were just talking about you.

I don’t get another message from him, so I go back to talking to Genna about her day and what her plans are for the rest of the week.

My phone beeps again, but this time it’s a text from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: I like to know I am the topic of discussion.

Me: Who is this?

Unknown Number: How many other men are you talking about tonight?

It’s Parker, but I don’t recall giving him my number. I’m a little giddy that he found a way to get it.

Me: Scott?

Unknown Number: Who is Scott?

Me: Mike?

Unknown Number: Not funny

I laugh at the idea of messing with him.

Me: I thought so. How did you get my number?

Unknown Number: I have my ways.

I don’t see him going to Jason for it, so it must have been Shannon or the new-hire paperwork I filled out today.

Adding him to my contacts, I tell Genna I’m tired and heading to bed. Really, I just don’t want her to see me blush over Parker.

Me: Of course you do. What do you want, Parker?

Tossing my phone onto the bed, I strip out of my clothes, putting on some shorts and a tank to sleep in. Once I’m changed, I take off my wig, then grab my phone to read his reply.

Mr. Handsome: You

Oh. Shit.

It’s okay. Be calm. Act like his text doesn’t affect you at all. Does he want me to come over? Fuck, I am so screwed if he asks me to come over. Play it off, Aundrea.

Mr. Handsome: Am I going to see you tomorrow?

Me: I’m thinking about it.

Mr. Handsome: Please.

Me: Ohh … Begging are you.

And now I’m flirting. Great.

Mr. Handsome: No. But you will be.

Oh boy.

Me: I don’t beg.

Mr. Handsome: Oh, I’ve heard you beg.

Okay, this is not going in the direction I planned.

Me: Yes. I will be there tomorrow, but only for the morning, and not because you’re asking. It’s because I don’t have anything else to do.

Mr. Handsome: I have something for you to do.

I bet you do.

Me: Yes, I know. Scan charts.

Mr. Handsome: Nope.

Me: ???

Mr. Handsome: Me.

Fuck me …

I stare at my phone. Who am I kidding? I know it will only be a matter of time before we sleep together again. Maybe I just need to get him out of my system. There is nothing wrong with two consenting adults ...

Okay, on second thought, it’s not a good idea to get involved with him.

Mr. Handsome: I don’t hear you saying no. See you tomorrow, Aundrea. *wink*

Him and his damn winks! I fall back onto my bed, pulling my pillow over my face and letting out a muffled scream.

Chapter Seven

I’ve never understood why women spend so much time in the mornings putting on makeup, doing their hair, or picking out the right outfit, especially if it’s all for a guy, but here I am, standing in my closet for God knows how long looking for a shirt to wear. Since when did picking out clothes and accessories become so difficult?

Picking out a simple yellow shirt with elbow-length sleeves and a lace back, I go for my signature black leggings and plain stud earrings. Now, I know leggings are not hot or attractive, but they are so damn comfortable and that’s all I’m about these days. Comfort.

After double-checking that my hair is in place, I make my way downstairs.

“How did you sleep?” Jason asks, handing me a banana as I sit down at the table to join them.

“Great! I couldn’t have slept better.”

Jason gives a tiny nod before going back to reading the newspaper.

“I’m glad to hear you’re back to sleeping through the night,” Genna says, beaming.

I peel my banana and take a bite, noticing that my canker sores have already improved with the medication I’ve been taking.