Readers: This was supposed to have been part of Chapter 24, so I just turned it into Chapter 25.
Chapter 25
Confronting Ghosts
The next day Kenna called Wilson and got the address for Greg. "I'm going to go talk to him; he needs to know that this behavior isn't going to work. And then when I'm done, I'm coming back over and we're going to finish what we started last night. The sooner we do and Greg knows it, the faster he'll lose interest in making my life hell."
Wilson gave her the address and said rather excitedly, "About what time should I expect you?"
"Give me a couple of hours."
Kenna drove over to House's apartment, parking across the street and knocking on the door. Answering in a navy blue t- shirt and khaki shorts, his hair was disheveled as if he had just woken up. Apparently the half-ass beard was permanent. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes. He opened the door wider to allow Kenna to walk in. She noted that the apartment was all Greg House, modern without being sterile. Musical instruments lined one of the walls in the living room. They were only outnumbered by the hundreds of books that lined the shelves of numerous book shelves.
She didn't dare smile or he'd think she was just there to humor him. She couldn't help but think he looked really tired, "You look like hell."
"Oh, that's because I spent all night jacking off to your naked breasts."
Rolling her eyes, Kenna grit her teeth, "Can we be serious?"
"I was."
""Ok...I'm going to ignore that. Greg, I like James."
"You liked Doug too."
"I'm older now and I know what I like and what I don't. To be frank, if I knew back then what I know now, you wouldn't have gotten to first base."
"Let me kiss you and then you can tell me that." He held out his arm jokingly.
"Not funny." She watched him flinch as he tried to hop to the armchair.
"Are you in pain?"
"Jesus Christ, Kenna, I told you that I'm in pain every day."
"Is it worse some days more than others?"
"Yes, today is one of them. Or is it because you're here?"
"Are you only on Vicodin?"
"Vicodin, booze, hookers...anything that takes the pain away for awhile. Sex helps. How would you like to be part of the sexual healing?"
She was frustrated and said quite firmly, "Any other medicine?"
Rolling his eyes, he shook his head,"No." He looked in her eyes, "Kenna, don't do this. Don't sleep with my best friend." He looked at her with desperation in his eyes.
Kenna felt sick to her stomach, she hadn't expected him to have the balls to ask directly. This was the ultimate manipulation. Her voice turned soft, "Greg, we were very good friends, good lovers and great house mates, but not once could or did we say that we were in love, because we weren't. I'm going over to sleep with Wilson when I leave here. I like him and I think we could be good for each other. I want you to know that this is a train you can't stop, so get off the tracks. I really don't want to hurt you. I still care about you." Kenna started to pace as she said this but realized that she was coming dangerously close to being within arms reach of House, so she backed up. She suspected that if he tried to grab her she'd probably want to screw him just to find out if it was as good as she remembered or if she had just built him up in her mind over the years. But when she looked down at him, he was watching her but rubbing his leg, massaging it."Greg, let me see your scar."
"Get out of here! Just go screw Wilson"
She became matter of fact. "Drop your shorts; I want to see the scar."
He looked at her with suspicion but slowly got to his feet so he that he could drop the shorts.
When he dropped them, she drew back in dismay. "Oh fuck, how could they have butchered you like this?"
He watched her pull away and then, after the emotional impact had worn off, she came up to him and got down on one knee to look at it. She felt the muscle underneath. It was starting to atrophy from non-use. There was enough muscle, if built up sufficiently, that could support the body, but with the pain there was no way he would be able to tolerate putting weight on the leg in order to strengthen it.
"Greg, look at me-this is incredibly important- I am telling you as a doctor, one who is on the edge of tremendous advancements in neurology, that you need to start exercising the thigh. Build it up so that we have something to work with. Don't let it atrophy. I know it hurts and working out hurts, but please do it for a year. Give the science—give me- another year. You must keep the thigh from atrophying otherwise a doctor won't have anything to work with." Kenna stood up and realized that they were so close she could feel his body heat. Her eyes closed slightly, a wave of doubt rushing through her. He reached quietly and slowly around her waist, pulling her in to him. The feel of his long, warm arm was like an old friend, she felt safe. Her breathing quickened along with her heart rate. Looking at his clavicle and chest, she wasn't able to make eye contact. There was nothing left in her resistance, House could have taken her right then. Instead, he bent down and kissed her lips gently, holding her for a minute, smelling her hair, feeling her warmth and her breasts pressed up against him. After kissing the crown of her head, he let her go. She grabbed her stuff and ran out the door realizing she had just dodged a very real bullet.