“It’s Mom,” he muttered. “She’s sick.”
“What?” I croaked, feeling as though my ribs were imploding.
“Cancer.”
The world stopped, air falling still. I couldn’t breathe or think or see. In the dark quiet of my room, I reached for his hand, looping my fingers around his. His grip held strong, clung to my touch like a life raft, squeezing around myknuckles with each slow, shaky breath. The bones in my hand pressing together hurt, but the pain was dulled by the excruciating ache in my chest.
“Is she…” Scared of the answer, I struggled to ask the question. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Mom and Dad say she will be.”
“Okay. So then…it’s okay. She’ll be fine.”
She had to be.
I didn’t see how there could be any option other than her being fine. Aside from the junk food when we were on the road for rodeos, Lucy Wells was the healthiest person I’d ever met. She was young. She was amazing. Everyone loved her. People like thatneedto be okay, because the world is counting on them to stick around.
And if I was wrong, I had to pretend that things would be fine. That’s what Denny needed from me. It wasn’t my time to be emotional or scared.
I ran my thumb across the back of Denny’s shaking hand. “Your mom is the toughest person I know. She’s going to kick cancer’s butt.”
“Yeah.”
And then it dawned on me….
“Wait. How did you get here? It’s like one o’clock in the morning.”
“I stole Grandpa’s truck,” he said matter-of-factly. As if it wasn’t a big deal for a fifteen-year-old to steal a truck and drive through a storm in the middle of the night.
“Denver Wells,” I whisper-yelled. Regardless of the fact that he couldn’t see a single detail of my face, I shot him a look. “That’s seriously illegal. What if you got caught or crashed the truck?”
He shifted on the bed, releasing the death grip on my hand. “I’ve been driving around the ranch since I was six. I’m fine.”
“Even still. It wasn’t worth the risk to drive here. You could’ve texted or called or waited until I saw you tomorrow to talk to me.”
“I couldn’t.” His rough exhalation was hot against my cheek, and I realized how close we were. “I tried to sleep. Forget about it. Everybody else in the house seemed to have no trouble sleeping….”
“She’s going to be okay.”
“And if she isn’t?” He sniffled, and something wet landed on my calf, quickly soaking through my thin pajama pants. “What then?”
My voice was thin. Wavering. “She will be.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“I came here because you were the only person who I thought could make me feel better.”
“Oh,” I murmured.Crap.Think of something to lighten the mood.“Well…uh…I’m struggling to think of a joke or something under this kind of pressure.”
He chuckled under his breath, the mattress dipping as he moved even closer. Prickling heat flooded my capillaries, no doubt turning my skin red, and I focused on the tenderness of his fingertips as they grazed my knees.
When his hands settled on my outer thighs, my stomach warmed and churned as if I’d just chugged a large mug of hot cocoa. I licked my lips, staring at the silhouette in front of me, wishing I could see his face well enough to gauge his emotions.
Was he going to kiss me?
No,I told myself. Having him in my bedroom in the middle of the night was messing with my head. Simple as that. He was upset over his mom’s cancer diagnosis, and thinking he had anything else on his mind was disgustingly selfish.
