What if Blake was hurt?
What if I never saw him again?
What if the last thing he heard from me was my stupid rendition of a John Denver song because I was trying to lighten the mood and not be a pussy and show how fucked up I was over the uncertainty of him leaving? He’d laughed and called mean idiot, but a silent understanding passed between us, and I knew that he knew exactly what I was doing and why.
Eventually, Morgan’s hand slipped from mine when the attention of the others started to drift away from the television. The more time passed with no word to let us know what was going on or if he was okay, the more in my thoughts I became. The news wasn’t much help. They had very little information to start and weren’t getting any new details to give the viewers.
I called my mom to let her know I wasn’t making it to dinner that night, and when I told her why, she walked across the street to wait with all of us to hear something.
But it never came.
By the time eight o’clock rolled around, there was still no news, no word from Blake or his command. Gabe was staying at his parent’s house that night just in case, and they promised to let us know as soon as they found anything out. Callie and Lucas left, Morgan headed out, and I walked my mom back across the street, then checked in with Gabe and his parents again before taking off.
When I walked inside my apartment and the door shut behind me, I just stood there, drowning in the silence and the worst-case scenarios that filled my head. I clutched my phone in my hand, wanting it to ring but, at the same time, afraid for it to.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there before I was pulled from my thoughts by a knock on the door. I quickly turned and opened it, and amber eyes glinting with concern met mine.
“Hi…” Morgan said softly.
“Hey.” I stared at her for a moment. “What are you doing here?”
“I just…” She trailed off, letting out a breath. “I thought you might like some company…”
Usually, “company” meant something else to us, but Morgan wasn’t there for that. I could hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes. She was there because she didn’t want me to be alone. And I’d never been more fucking grateful for company in my life than I was at that moment.
Morgan and I didn’t show each other physical attentiveness outside of our deal in the bedroom. At most, we were playful, but there had always been a line between that and the very different level of intimacy that came with being physically attentive. Even with my now-acknowledged feelings for her, it was a line I didn’t dare cross, not without knowing how she felt. There was only one time when I could say we crossed that line, and that was after the whole ordeal of learning what my dad did.
Without thinking, I reached out and pulled her inside, nudging the door shut with my foot as I wrapped my arms over her shoulders. Because just like the last time, she was there. Because she didn’t want me to be alone, and I didn’t want to be. To my surprise, I felt her arms wrap around my middle, returning the embrace.
I closed my eyes, tucking her head under my chin, where it seemed to fit perfectly. “I need him to be okay,” I whispered.
“I know…” I felt her nod against my chest. “We just…we have to stay positive.”
I liked that she saidwe…like I wasn’t alone, and we were in this together. I knew what was happening between us at that moment was a rare occurrence, and things would go back to normal afterward, so I was going to let myself savor the comfort she was offering. Comfort she knew I needed, even if I didn’t say it out loud.
Eventually, we moved to the couch. My phone was clutched in one hand, my other in Morgan’s. And we sat in the silence, waiting for a call I simultaneously wanted and dreaded.
I was stirred awake by the chiming of my phone. I didn’t even remember falling asleep. When I inhaled a deep breath and began to shift, I felt Morgan sit up; I immediately noticed the absence of her warmth in the crook of my arm but pushed it aside as I grabbed my phone. My eyes fell on the time—it was just after midnight.
Then I registered the name flashing across the screen.Gabe.
My heart shot to my throat as I quickly answered. “Hey…”
“He’s okay.”
The breath that left me at his words was one of sheer relief. “Yeah?” I cleared my throat of the thick emotion that laced my voice. “You talked to him?”
“My dad did. He didn’t—or couldn’t, we’re not sure—say too much, but he is okay. Physically, that is. Obviously, he was shaken up. He couldn’t talk too long, but he said he’ll call again as soon as he can.”
“Okay…” I breathed another sigh of relief. “Thanks for calling, man.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll let you know when we hear from him again.”
“Alright. Get some sleep.”
“You too.”
I ended the call, tossing my phone onto my coffee table before scrubbing my hands over my face. “He’s okay,” I murmured. “He’s okay.”
