D:Bluebell B is for children. Um... are you game forvisitors?
Angelo sat up again. The flutter that had danced through his burning chest when he’d first seen Dylan’s message suddenly had biggerfeet.
A:Would youcome?
D:Of course. I missyou.
A:I miss youtoo.
And God, it was true. Life had imploded in so many ways over the past few weeks, but the wreckage of his relationship with Dylan had taunted Angelo more than anything. Everything hurt, but the cracks in his heart hurt themost.
Dylan didn’t reply to Angelo’s last text, and Angelo took that to mean that their conversation would perhaps continue in the morning. He plugged his phone in again and lay back down, pondering the possibility of Dylan coming to see him. Visiting hours started at ten, but Dylan would probably be at work then. The evening session was at six. Would Angelo be able to stay upright in the shower beforethen?
He’d bloody welltry.
* * *
Dylan pulleda chair up to Angelo’s bed. In the dim light of the quiet ward, he looked asleep, but the ward sister seemed to think he’d been awake a few minutes ago. Dylan found his hand, bruised and swollen from the IV jammed in the back. Jesus.How the hell did thishappen?
Angelo’s elegant fingers seemed to wrap instinctively around Dylan’s before his eyes fluttered open. The surprise in his tired gaze was obvious. Dylan caught his shoulders as he struggled to sit up, easing him back down and stroking hisface.
“Shh. It’s justme.”
Angelo took a breath that turned into an obviously painful cough. Dylan rubbed his chest and reclaimed his hand, squeezing gently until he was able tospeak.
“You came,” Angelowhispered.
Dylan smiled. “Idid.”
“What time isit?”
“A little afterthree.”
“In themorning?”
“Yup.”
“But?—how? I mean, how did you get inhere?”
Dylan slid his chair impossibly closer and shrugged. “I went to school with the ward sister, and she’s let me in a few times to see Sam when he’s been admittedhere.”
“OrgyBFF?”
“That’s the one, though there won’t be any orgies for a while. He moved to Polandyesterday.”
Angelo cocked an eyebrow. “He did? Wow. You’re going to misshim.”
It wasn’t a question, and Dylan didn’t deny it. How could he when it was so true? “Anyway. I kind of figured that as you were awake an hour ago, you were probably having trouble sleeping in this place, so I might as well visit you straight away. I can come back in daylight if youlike?—?”
“Don’t go.” Angelo tightened his grip on Dylan’s hand. “I’m having a hard enough time believing that you’re really here as itis.”
“I’m here,mate.”
Angelo closed his eyes, and for a while it seemed that he’d fallen asleep. Dylan took the opportunity to look him over, taking in the dark smudges under his eyes, the marks and bruises on his arms from needle sticks, and the oxygen mask hanging within easy reach. Coupled with the IV and the unmissable rasp in Angelo’s chest, it was clear to see that he’d been?—and likely still was?—horriblyill.
“Are youokay?”
Dylan blinked to find Angelo very much awake and staring at him. “What?”
