He huffs like I don’t get it, but I do. I get exactly what he’s saying about himself and I fuckinghatethat he feels that way.
“No. You’re not gross. Unless you’re drooling all over my head. Then you’re gross.”
“Drooling?Emmett—where are you going? I don’tdrool,” I call after him but he’s already up and in the hallway, the crotch of his pants damp.Fuck, that’s hot. “Take it back!”
The snick of what I assume is the bathroom door closing mingles with my laughter as the only response, and I flop back on the shitty mattress. The ceiling stares back at me, its brown spots standing out against the off-white right above his bed.
God, this place is fucking sad.
The longer I lay here beneath the old leaks, the more the rhythmic beep of a monitored heart filters into my consciousness and my smiles fades, the reality of everything crashing down on me with each tone.
It makes it hard to breathe. To think. To hear anything other than that goddamn beep.
He didn’t say he liked me back.
Shaking my head, I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my knees nearly connecting with the knobs on the dresser and I grumble at its closeness.
How the fuck did Emmett grow up in here? With no space to just be … silly. A kid. To play on his own.
What’s going to happen to him if Charline doesn’t make it?
Will he be able to let her go?
I suck back a breath. Push to my feet and attempt to leave that thought right there on the bed.
It’s not up to me.
Emmett could have said no to this trial thing his aunt found, though I’m not quite sure she framed it that way. He’s the living relative. What he says matters.
But there’s also no way to let your mom go when she might have a chance.
I just wish that he’d had a better one.
Lifting my glasses to rub my face, I then make my way into the kitchen for a quick cleanup with some paper towels and a prayer that my shorts dry soon.
“Afternoon, Ten.”
Nearly jumping out of my skin, I end up spraying water all over my stomach, soaking my shirt.
“Jesus fuck, Bobbie. What are you still doing here?” I half growl and dry my hands.
The woman had the audacity to justshrugas the counter’s edge digs into my fingers when I spin to face her smug look.
“She woke up for about thirty seconds.”
My everything goes tight, and my grip digs harder into my fingers.
“Did she say anything?”
The smug glint in Bobbie’s eye fades quickly. “No. Just stared at me like a stranger.”
Her jaw tenses and her nose goes red, just like Emmett’s and I push off from the counter to get closer.
“Maybe she’d be better off,” Bobbie chokes out and I have to swallow back my retort.
“It’s not up to us. Remember?” I rub her biceps, and she finally takes a deep breath before waving me off.
“You’re right. I’m just having a hard time reconciling who’s in the bed now. She’s not the same person I remember.” She’s sniffles and turns away like she’s going back to the living room, only to stop short. “Thank you for not giving up on Emmett. He’s lucky to have you, Tristen.”
