Page 17 of Alex
Iasked Alex to live with me because his boyfriend, Cooper, died, and I knew hisbrothers and their girls would smother him when that wasn’t what he needed. Ifigured he’d stay a few months until he was ready to move on, but I didn’texpect to enjoy his company as much as I do. I’ve always lived alone. I have toadmit, it’s nice to come home and have someone to hang out with, have dinnerwith.
I’venever been interested in a relationship. It just seems like too much drama andtrouble when it won’t last anyway. Maybe if I met a woman I enjoyed beingaround as much as Alex, I’d consider it.
Lindashows up a few minutes later, dressed in a tiny skirt with thigh highstockings. I swear the woman can read my dirty mind. She squeals when I throwher over my shoulder and smack her ass on the way to my room. Standing at theend of my bed, she releases her bra and firm tits bounce in front of my eyes.The stress of the day fades as I bury myself in her silky skin and sweet scent.
Hervoice moaning my name pulls at something inside me I don’t have the words todescribe or the intellect to understand. She wants me. Right now, she wantsonly me. I take her in every position we can think of, until we both lie satedand exhausted.
Ourhands still roam one another’s skin when she asks, “Have you been tested,lately?”
Frowning,I roll to face her. “Of course. I get tested every four months. We used acondom, baby. What’s your worry?”
Herhand guides mine down to my balls. “You have a lump here.”
She’sright. There’s a small painless lump on my right testicle. Shit. Have I caughtsomething? I always wrap it up. STD’s cause sores, not lumps under the skin,right?
Hervoice is soothing. “It’s not a wart or anything. I’ve seen those before,” sheconfesses with a shudder. “Probably just a cyst or something, but get it lookedat, okay?” She fondles me. “Don’t want this beast out of commission.”
Ismile, despite the cold fear overtaking me. “Will do, baby.”
Aftershe leaves, I lay a mirror on my bedroom floor and kneel over it, terrified atwhat I might find. All those STD film strips from school are playing in myhead. But the mirror doesn’t show me anything. Whatever the problem is, it’sbeneath the skin and can only be felt. I’m tempted to go to the emergency room,but I don’t want to overreact. I’ll call my doctor in the morning. It’s goingto be a long night.
Aftertossing and turning all night, I feel like a zombie when I park outside myoffice. The doctor couldn’t work me in until after lunch, so I worry my waythrough the first half of my day. Ev calls as I’m clearing off my desk. “Heyloser. Want to meet me for lunch?”
“Sorry,Pup. I have a meeting. Maybe later this week.”
“What’swrong?” Shit. How does she always know?
“Nothing’swrong. Just buried in work and trying to catch up. I guess I’m a littlestressed.” I hate lying to Ev, but there’s no way I’m worrying her with this.
“Well,don’t overdo it.”
“Yes,Mom. Do you know if Alex went to the gym today?” Maybe I can change the subject.
“He’sthere now, working with some students.” I can hear the smile in her voice.“He’s really getting better, isn’t he?”
“Ithink so. I didn’t have to drag him out of bed this morning, so that’s a goodsign. But he’s a little bummed about Kyle leaving, so I wanted to make sure hewasn’t wallowing at home. Listen, I’ve got to go. Call you soon, okay?”
“Kay.Love ya.”
“Loveya, Pup.”
Afterwhat seems like three days, the clock reads twelve-thirty and I head to mydoctor’s office. I’ve never been so glad to have a male doctor when he beginsto examine my balls. The last thing I want is for any chick to know my junk isdiseased. “Just tell me it’s not herpes or HPV,” I beg, and the doctor shakeshis head.
“It’snot an STD. When did you first notice the lump?”
“Yesterday.”
“Well,you did good getting in quickly.”
“What?What is it?”
“We’llneed to run some tests to figure that out.” He scribbles a few notes and thenhands me a sheet of paper. “Take that to St. Vincent’s Hospital. They’ll getyou in for an ultrasound, so we can see what we’re dealing with.”
“Isit a cyst, maybe?”
“It’spossible, but it doesn’t feel like a cyst.”
“Atumor?” My voice is barely audible. The word cancer beats in my head.
