@HeyyythereDelilah: Srsly, that’s *not* RW. Look at the eyes. RW’s eyes aren’t that close together.
My eyes are close together?
@BustyBritt69: It’s totally RW! I’d recognize that sexy mouth anywhere.
@HeyyythereDelilah: devil’s advocate. Let’s say it’s RW. Doesn’t mean it’s RW’s *boyfriend*. Could b his brother.
@BustyBritt69: Who kisses their brother on the MOUTH?
@HeyyythereDelilah: I did once. But I was drunk. Thought he was someone else.
@BustyBritt69: Ewwwww! TMI!
Sighing, I close the app and shut off my phone. Nurse Death didn’t say she needed it back, so I tuck it into my pocket, then return to the main room, where Jamie’s suspicious gaze greets me.
“What was that about?”
I shrug. “She let me use the phone so I could call your parents back.”
“Are they freaking out?”
“Nope. Like me, they know there’s nothing to worry about.” I settle back in my chair and reach for his hand. “You’re going to be fine, babe. Those tests are going to come back negative. Just watch.”
He nods, but his expression remains uneasy. “You sure everything’s okay?” he presses.
I bend and brush my lips over his alarmingly hot cheek. “Everything is just fine,” I lie.
SIXTEEN
JAMIE
Fever is trippy. The room has an odd jittery quality, and I’m hot and cold at the same time.
There’s only one thing here that’s behaving exactly the way I need, and that’s Wes. Whenever I open my eyes he’s here. Even though I’m worried about his health, his career and every other goddamn thing, I can’t deny that it’s a comfort to me. Because everything happening to me is just so disorienting.
“How’d I get here?” I ask suddenly.
He looks up from his phone. “Uh, ambulance, I’m pretty sure. Your man Danton called me at the rink, but I didn’t hear all the details.” He clears his throat. “I think he said something about an ambulance.”
I consider this while the walls shimmer weirdly. And then? A huge grizzly bear flattens its giant body against the glass window. I’m staring at it when it yanks the phone off the wall, and a voice booms in at us. “Dude! What a lot of trouble you are, J-Bomb!”
My synapses fire in slow motion, but Wes’s groan clues mein. Blake has arrived.Fuck! I try to casually pull my hand away from Wes’s, but he holds on tight. “Wes?” I croak.
“Yeah?”
“Is our cover blown?”
“Well…”
Blake’s hysteria vibrates the walls. “Is your cover blown? Is a bear Catholic? Does the pope shit in the woods? I just saw both your faces on the ten o’clock news. Nice yearbook photo, J-Bomb.”
Wes jumps out of his chair and stalks over to the window. I’m pretty sure he’s making a slashing motion at his throat.
“What?” Blake says with a shrug. “He’s gonna see a TV, a newspaper or a phone before tomorrow, right?”
Somehow this new information helps clear my head. If we’re on the news, that means the whole world is feasting on Wes like a gossip buffet. “I’m so sorry,” I say.
Wes whirls around. “No you don’t. This isnotyour fault. Not even a little.”
