I hoped he was resting peacefully, but I’d be right by his side if anything happened.
I knew he was alive, that he would be fine, he just had the flu, but that one moment—that single second I’d thought he was dead—was etched in my mind, had lodged there like a splinter, digging deeper and deeper the harder I tried to pluck it out.
Was it really just a crush if you thought the person you liked was dying and felt like you’d been cleaved in two?
15
CAN’T I JUST TRAIL OFF AND NOT HAVE YOU GOAD ME INTO FINISHING MY SENTENCES?
REESE
Something smelled good.
Sweet.
Like maple syrup.
It was warm, too. I was so comfortable and relaxed, just floating in a hazy void of soft heat. There was a weight across my chest.
I didn’t want to move a single muscle, but I tried to crack my eyes open. My lids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, and my throat was as dry and scratchy as sandpaper.
When I was finally able to get my eyes open, all I saw was a long arm draped across my chest, fingers curled around my rib cage. Freckles were bunched beneath fine black hair in a pattern that looked like a star on the inside of his forearm.
I knew that arm. Knew those freckles.
And for some reason I had my hand wrapped around his wrist.
I left it there and let my gaze drift beyond our arms to his legs, which were next to mine but on top of the covers. His knee was pressing lightly against my thigh, and I could feel his chestslowly rising and falling against my shoulder. Could feel his small, rhythmic puffs of breath against my hair.
Could feel every inch of him against me.
I was completely wrapped up in Dakota Voss, and…
Something poked at the back of my mind, something uneasy and fearful.
My heart began to pound, and my gaze darted around the room as I completely took it in.
No.
No, no, no, no.
Fuzzy memories drifted through my mind, but they were just vague snippets of things.
Of Dakota.
His face. His voice. His hands.
My chest was too tight, my lungs weren’t working properly, my heart going faster and faster and I couldn’t think, I couldn’t remember what happened.
Dakota’s fingers flexed around my rib cage, and his thumb started to move in a slow, gentle circle. He took a deep breath, and then his fingers were in my hair, softly brushing it away from my face.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice even rougher than usual from sleep. “You want some water?”
“Water?” I rasped. My throat felt like there were tiny daggers embedded in the lining.
Dakota stretched against me, his long body pressing into mine. He murmured, “Yeah, that liquid stuff that keeps you alive. Are you feeling better?” He sounded more awake now, and he pulled me tighter into his body when I started trembling uncontrollably.
When I didn’t respond, he pushed up onto an elbow and now his face was hovering above mine, so fucking close?—
