“Caffeine, therapy, and a relentless pursuit of justice.”
Jasmine laughed. “Any therapy after the incident?”
“Of course. I also host a yoga class for survivors.”
Jasmine nodded and made a note in her file. “I understand you weren’t aware that Mr. Vanderpool was your father until recently.”
Alexis set the bottle down on the table. “What does that have to do with the surgery?”
Jasmine adopted a calm, neutral expression. “It’s my job to assess your emotional well-being. Finding a father you never knew would be a heavy emotional load.”
“It was a shock,” she finally said.
Jasmine waited for Alexis to continue, prodding with nothing more than encouraging silence.
And for some reason, Alexis acquiesced. “I mean, I knew I must have had a father somewhere at some point.”
“But you never thought about finding him?”
Alexis shrugged. “It never seemed important. I had my mother, and we were a perfect family just the two of us.”
“And now that he has found you, can you tell me how you’d feel if the surgery didn’t work?”
Alexis started. “Didn’t work? In what way?”
“His body could reject your kidney.”
“But isn’t that what all the tests are about? To make sure his body won’t reject it?”
“Of course. But there are never any guarantees.”
“But there are, aren’t there? If he doesn’t get a kidney, he will die. Right?”
The woman tilted her head. “He will need a kidney to live. Yes. But another donor might be found. He’s on the transplant list.”
“But the chances are better for survival, aren’t they? If he gets a kidney from a relative instead of a stranger.”
“Statistically, yes. Recipients have a longer life span post-surgery when they have a living donor who is a relative.”
“Then it should be me.”
Jasmine leaned forward. “Alexis, do you want to do this?”
“Yes.” Her answer surprised even herself with its certainty, its forcefulness.
“Why?” Jasmine asked.
“What do you mean why? Because he could die if I don’t.”
“Wanting to protect someone from dying is different from wanting someone to live.”
Alexis sat back against the couch. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”
“Alexis, what you say to me stays with me. Mr. Vanderpool will never know what is said here today, so you can be honest.”
Annoyance prickled along her spine. “I am being honest. Are you trying to talk me out of this?”
“Absolutely not. I’m just trying to understand your reasons for being here.”
So was Alexis. “I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”
“There are a lot of good, legitimate reasons to do this. But obligation should never be one of them.”
“It’s not obligation.” Her voice sounded defensive to her own ears.
Jasmine crossed her legs again. “Then tell me what it is.”
Alexis opened and closed her mouth. The answer was there, but she was afraid of it, just like when Candi asked her why she’d allowed her DNA results to be shared with relatives. She wanted to test it on her tongue, let it marinate until all her senses had time to experience it, accept it, before she said it out loud. So she hid her trembling hands under her thighs and gave half the truth. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I can’t let Candi go through that.”
Jasmine uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, hands clasped on her knees. “So it’s empathy?”
“Yes.”
“Do you wish to have a relationship with Mr. Vanderpool after this?”
Once again, Alexis hedged her answer. “I’ve never even met him.”
“And yet you’re willing to give him a kidney?”
“People give kidneys to strangers all the time, don’t they?”
Jasmine did that silent-studying thing again before nodding and leaning back in her chair. “Let’s get that blood test taken care of.”
* * *
An hour later, Alexis sat in her car with a small bandage over the crook of her elbow. The cookies they gave her sat untouched on the seat. Her phone was in her hand. All she had to do was dial the number.
Candi answered immediately with a breathless hopefulness to her voice. “Alexis?”
“Okay,” Alexis said. “I’ll meet the family.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Noah arrived ten minutes early for his initiation, and Mack—annoyed—told him to stay put in his office.
“Are you serious?”
Mack pointed. “Book club is very serious.”
He walked out and shut the door behind him for good measure. Noah dropped into the chair in front of Mack’s desk, dropped Coming Home onto the clean, sparse desktop, and stared at the book. He’d tried to do more reading last night but couldn’t. Mostly because his mind was firmly focused on Alexis and her trip to Huntsville today. But also because he didn’t care what Mack and the guys tried to tell him. No story about a man who was too selfish to know he’d left behind a pregnant girlfriend was going to help him figure things out with Alexis.
Noah had just taken up pacing and swearing when the door finally opened. The Russian filled the doorframe like a bouncer. “Follow me.”
Noah hesitated, but he grabbed the book and obeyed. The Russian walked with the heavy-footed sobriety of a prison guard. And as soon as they entered the club, Noah understood why. The lights were dim but for a spotlight shining on a table in the middle of the dance floor where Mack, Gavin, Del, Colton, and Malcolm waited with equally somber expressions. A single seat was unoccupied.
Noah pulled the seat out, but Mack kicked it out of reach. “You haven’t been invited to sit yet.”
“You must first take the oath,” Del said.
Noah laughed. “Are you serious?”
Mack’s expression turned dark.
“Right. Sorry. Book club is very serious.”
“Raise your right hand,” Mack said.
Noah did as he was told.
“Repeat after me,” Mack said. “I, Noah Logan, solemnly swear to uphold the principles of a Bromance Book Club man.”
Noah mangled it but got most of it out.
Mack continued. “I vow to do the hard work on myself to overcome a lifetime of toxic masculinity.”
Noah repeated it.
“And to use the lessons of the manuals to become a better man.”
“Amen,” the
