He let me take the corner section, but he didn’t stray far. His shoulder pressed against mine as he stretched his legs one way into the right side of the L and I set mine along the left.
The comfort of simply being with him was overwhelmingly nice. Too nice.
Dangerously nice.
“So,” I said, trying to kill the mood just a little, “why are you up?Was it me?”
“Nah, honey,” he said, using that word again, totally unthinking and unaware of how it affected me.“It wasn’t you.”He tapped his temple.“Just the usual shit, you know?”
I hated it, but I did know.I knew what Nash and the other guys dealt with.“Should I not ask? I know Creek gets pretty pissed off if I try to make him talk about his PTSD.”
“Nah. It’s not all that…well…” He stopped and shrugged. “Actually, yeah. I had a bit of a triggering afternoon.” He let out a trembling breath, and I could tell something was actually wrong. “There was a call to a car accident that went sideways when we got there.”
Twisting around, I reached for him, unable to stop myself. I took his hand in mine and stroked soft lines over his palm. He immediately relaxed against me and let out a groan I was most definitely going to file away for later.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I chanced.
“No.” That answer was too quick, and having known my brother his whole life, I knew what I needed to do, so I did it.
I waited, letting the silence give him the space and freedom to talk when he was ready.
“There was a woman,” he finally said. “A girl, really.Not even eighteen yet. Nasty car accident—drunk driver. We managed to get her out, but she likely has a pretty severe spinal injury, and there’s a good chance she’ll lose a leg.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
Nash nodded his head against my shoulder and nestled just a little closer. His hand closed around my wrist, and he squeezed it in an absent, almost melodic pattern. “The swelling was prettybad and I…well, hell. I wanted to be able to help her and tell her it was all gonna be okay, but I couldn’t. I felt helpless.”
I turned my head and pressed my nose to the side of his temple. “That’s the worst feeling.”
“It really is. The guy was…” He trailed off, and I could tell he wasn’t going to talk about that. I wouldn’t push him either. “Back when everything happened,” he started, and I knew he wasn’t talking about the accident today, “if I’d listened when I was warned, your brother wouldn’t have gotten hurt the way he did. Neither would Bean. Or Tam.”
“I know for a fact that wasn’t your fault,” I told him. Creek had never once—notever—blamed Nash.
He sighed and shrugged. “Sometimes I don’t listen to my gut when I should. And sometimes I do, and it still doesn’t work out.”
“I mean, that’s kind of life, right?” I said.
He laughed softly, sleepily. He was fading, and I realized in that moment, so was I. We should probably move—get off the couch and attempt to go to bed. But this felt way too good. His hand was in mine, his head resting against my shoulder, the scent of him all around me.
Had I ever felt so at peace?
“Mm, you feelin’ better?” he asked, words now a little sleep-thick.
I hummed, breathed out, and felt the rise and fall of his chest start to even out. His grip on my wrist tightened, then went a little loose, and his fingers drifted across my palm before twisting up with mine.
Darkness was pressing in on all sides—but this time, it was the good kind. The easy kind. The kind that meant I’d get to rest.
“Nash?” I whispered.
But there was no answer. He was out, and it took no time at all for me to follow him into the dark.
Three days went by in three minutes, it felt like. I managed to do all my work from home, and I hoped that as I rotted either in my bed or on the couch, time would slow down. The closer it got to the appointment, the closer I was to knowing, and I would no longer be allowed to remain ignorant of what was wrong.
Early intervention was always better, but the idea of understanding what was wrong with me and facing all the things it could be was terrifying.
I spent the morning throwing up and hoping Nash didn’t hear, though when I found him in the kitchen waiting for me with mint tea and some dry toast, I knew I hadn’t been very subtle. He was kind though. He didn’t bring it up.
He made sure I was mostly hydrated, then ushered me out the door and didn’t say a word as he followed the quiet GPS instructions all the way to the neurologist’s office.
