I tried to duck under the brim of my baseball hat, but I’d forgotten the damn thing again. I wasn’t sure why I kept doing that when I’d spent years almost surgically attached to the thing.
Anyway, it was clearly too late to hide because Cedar was already out of his chair, hurrying around the little desk to grab my hand and shake it firmly. “Oh my God. This is crazy. I can’t believe you’re here! I loved ‘Pretty Girl.’ You… Youarehim, right? Jayd?”
I looked at Rafe.So much for under the radar.
Rafe shrugged.Your call.
“Yes, I’m Jayd Rollins. I’m here to visit my sister, but I want to respect her privacy, so if you could not put this on Instagram—” I looked around the nearly empty lobby and silently begged him to keep his voice down.
“Oh! God, no wonder you guys were trying to get through with the wrong ID. No, no, it’s cool,” he whisper-insisted, all wide-eyed and earnest. “There’s, like, all sorts of HIPAA requirements, so I won’t let anyone know you’re here, but I wouldn’t anyway!” He let go of my hand and cradled his own to his chest protectively. “I can’t believe I got to shake your hand! You have no idea how much that song meant to me. When I was coming out to my parents, I played them that song, and… like, it’s just so great to have queer representation out there, you know?” His eyes widened impossibly further. “I mean, not to claim that for you or whatever. I know you haven’t come out yet. Or at all! But just to say…” He swallowed convulsively and repeated solemnly, “Just to say.”
He was adorable and so sweetly sincere, I foundmyselftongue-tied in the face of it. How could I look him in the face and say I wasn’t gay? But Jesus, confirming it for a perfect stranger would be… would be…
“Jay’s had a long week, worrying about his sister,” Rafe interjected, saving my ass. “If we could see her?”
“Yeah, no, of course!” Cedar scrambled back around the desk and hit a few keys on the keyboard. A tiny printer spat out a pair of Visitor stickers. “Just put these on. Elevator’s right there. Third floor. There’s an atrium off the lobby where they do visitor things. I’ll call up and let them know you’re coming so they can kinda shut it down for you, okay?”
And just that easily, we were in the elevator, on our way to see Aimee, despite being absolutely not authorized to do so. Rafe stood beside me, a silent sentinel who’d openly declared thatIwas his priority.
I took a deep breath. “You realize what this means, right? That I probably could have gotten in here at any time if the receptionist the other day had known I wastheJayd Rollins? That I wouldn’t have had to hit you, or kidnap you, or drag you along on this whole expedition if I’d just been open about who I was?”
Rafe grunted, and the backs of his fingers brushed mine.
“What was that other receptionist’s name?”
I blinked. “Shirleen, I think? Why?”
“Because I’m sending her flowers, that’s why.”
The doors opened, and Rafe stepped out into a little lobby, but all I could do was stand and stare at the back of him until the doors started to close with me still in the elevator.
I stepped out quickly. “You don’t just get to say sweet things like that,” I whispered. “Not in a public place. Not when I can’t kiss the shit out of you.”
He winked, and the look in his eyes had methiscloseto panting right there on the antiseptic-scented floor tiles. “Actually, I do. My promotion says so. It’s part of my job description now. Deal with it, Rollins.”
Well, damn.
He gestured me to the right, following the signs for the visitor atrium, and when we stepped inside the sunny, greenhouse-like space filled with deep chairs and comfortable sofas, Aimee was already sitting there.
I nearly wept at the sight of her. Her long, sandy-blonde hair had been cut into a short pixie, which was beautiful but also highlighted her fragile face and the hollows of her cheeks. She was way thinner than she’d been the last time I saw her, and I wanted to kick my own ass for failing her so badly.
“Oh my God! Jay! You’re actually here!” Aimee’s green eyes lit with happiness and affection as she pushed herself to her feet.
“Stop! Don’t stand up for us!” I scolded, hurrying to her side like she might need my help to sit back down. “Aimee, you’ve got to rest—”
“Actually, it’s good for her to stand and move around,” a mild voice said, which was the first time I noticed the other occupant of the room.
“I beg your pardon?” I slipped into Belinda’s Southern church-lady voice.
The man had enormous glasses and a receding hairline which suggested he was a little older than Rafe and me—maybe his mid-thirties—but still way too young to be wearing that lab coat, tie, and hospital ID badge as anything but a Halloween costume. And though he sat in his own chair adjacent to Aimee, he looked at her in a proprietary sort of way that made my hackles rise.
Was this the guy who’d called herbabe?
I opened my mouth to call him out, but Aimee laid her hand on my arm.
“Jay, this is Dave Clemmons.DoctorDavid Clemmons. He’s a miracle worker. Dave, this is my brother, Jay, and my friend Rafe Goodman.”
The doctor shook hands with Rafe first, since he was closer, and Aimee hugged me gingerly. “I’m so glad to see you! But stop with the face,” she warned under her breath.
