I pull a short breath and rub at my chest.
“Bubbles …” It trails off my lips like a plea, quiet but thick.
I have no idea what I’m asking after, but Emmett seems to when he scoots to the edge of his bed and gets to his feet.
The distance between us shrinks and with each inch he draws nearer, the room feels brighter. Softer. Quieter.
Something akin to hope weaves its way into my bruised bones, cushioning the jagged edges as he slips onto the bed beside me.
“How was it?” he asks like he always does when I see him again after work and some of the tension bleeds from my shoulders.
“Hot.”
Emmett huffs a scoff. “Looks like it.”
I frown.
It’s too dark in here to really see my arms and legs when I look down, but I do anyway. Flexing my fingers, I note the tightness and the chill. Same goes for my face. It feels like sunburn.
It feels raw, almost. But not quite.
What feels worse are my ribs, but I ignore that.
I’m grateful that my unconscious self decided to at least put shorts on as I shift to face Emmett and a chill leaves me trembling.
“I’m glad to see your face,” I admit and pull the blanket up over my shoulders. “Stay with me?”
“How can you just …”
I burrow deeper into some weird position that leaves me mostly curled on myself, so I don’t take up too much room on the small bed.
“What?” I mutter through tingling lips and my eyelids droop.
“Just say shit like that.”
I shrug, the rustle of the blanket grating over my flesh.
“Crazy as it sounds … it’s true.”
Chapter 41
Emmett
I’m not good enoughto be near him.
It’s the thought that smashes around in my head, even as he mouths ‘it’s true’ again, his eyes long ago closed.
It’s not true. It’s not.
But that doesn’t stop me from sitting here beside him. Taking up his bed when he should be resting.
Reaching for the tips of his fingers over the blanket when I know he’s asleep.
Letting the pads of mine dust over his knuckles so lightly he probably doesn’t even realize I’m here.
As it should be.
The time passes both quickly and slowly, ticking down the midnight hours until there’s a brush of purple filtering in through the high windows. I’m not sure if it’s from the moon or the approaching dawn.
