“I will, sissy. I promise.” He stroked my arm. “It’s all over now. I’m going to stay tonight, we’ll get up tomorrow and I’ll make us omelets, you know the ones you like with those grossmushrooms and shit, and we’ll have coffee and hang out like we used to.”
“Okay, that sounds nice.” I sniffed, nodding against his chest. “Will you make bacon?”
“I’m not an animal, Addie. Of course I’ll make bacon.”
“I don’t know if we have any of those things to make.”
“Then I’ll run to the store.”
I nodded again and gave him a watery smile. “You’re the best big brother on the planet.”
“I know.”
I smiled and let him hug me a little while longer before heading to my room to change.
* * *
Dylan
Iwoke up to the smellof bacon and knew we had company since there was no way Addison was cooking. My right arm hurt like a mofo, and the sight of the bandage wrapped around it brought back all sorts of memories I wasn’t ready to deal with yet.
I also didn’t want to deal withcompany. Couldn’t a girl get a reprieve after everything I’d been through? My traitorous stomach growled; apparently it wasn’t feeling antisocial. Besides, the bacon smelled delicious, so I threw back my covers and stumbled out of bed.
Plastic bra cups were still stuck to my boobs. I took a moment to wonder how I’d gotten from the hospital to mostly-naked and in bed, but everything after thepain medicine was a blur. Leaving that mystery for later, I attacked the cups, trying to pry them off with my left hand. My skin felt like it was ripping and they were no looser, so I gave up and climbed in the shower. Keeping my right arm dry proved to be even more difficult than removing the damn plastic cups, but washing my hair one handed was what finally did me in. Feeling completely helpless,I threw my head back and cried.
I could have died.
The thought blindsided me, crashing into me on a wave of memories. Nicolai pointed that stupid gun at me and told me to give him the paper. Yes, I could have died, but I didn’t. And truth be told, there were hundreds of times in my lifetime I could have died. Like that one time I went night snowboarding with my cousin Ricky and plowed intoa rock. Or when Janie Foster convinced me to ride her uncle’s unbroken colt. Or pretty much anytime I rode as a passenger in my father’s truck after he’d had a few too many.
But I wasn’t dead.
And I could be a coward sniveling in the shower for the rest of my life, or I could go eat some damn bacon with my best friend and whoever the hell she’d conned into cooking for her. Determined to dothe latter, I wiped my eyes, turned off the water, and got out. I dried off, did the best I could at left-handed hair brushing, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt (no bra necessary since the cups were apparently permanent now), and went to go get me some breakfast.
Asher stood in the kitchen with his back to me. His blond hair was still damp from his own shower, his jeans rode low on his waist,and he was shirtless. The muscle definition of his back surprised me. I mean, I knew Asher was built, but the man had clearly been putting in work at the gym. My fingers itched to explore every hard crevice.
“Like the view?” he asked, giving me a sexy smirk over his shoulder.
Heat rose up my cheeks and I bit my lower lip.
Asher’s eyes sparkled with humor. He flicked off the gas stove and facedme. Turned out his abs and pecks looked even better than his back.
“You’re frying bacon shirtless?” I asked. “Who does that?”
“Strong, manly men like me,” he said, puffing up his chest.
The heat from my face drifted down to the rest of my body. “Oh yeah?” I asked.
He opened his mouth then shut it, opened it and shut it again, before finally ducking. “I was going to come up with some amazinglywitty comeback that would force you to throw yourself at me, but I’ve got nuthin’.”
He wanted me to throw myself at him, did he? The idea made my knees buckle. After everything I’d been through, you’d think flirting with the man I loved would be no sweat, but it still scared me out of my mind. What if I gave him my heart and he ripped it out of my chest and stomped on it? What if he rejectedme? What if he realized I wasn’t good enough for him?
“Stop,” Asher said.
I looked up at him, wondering if my out-loud voice had given away my internal thoughts again.
“Your face shows exactly what you’re thinking,” he said, closing the distance between us.
“It does?”
