“We should go,” I tell him. He nods like that’s a good idea, but he’s slow to get up. Pop comes into the room to help him.
The nurse tells us the brunt of the painkiller will wear off in about a half hour, and after that, it’ll leave him a little fuzzy around the edges.
“Will I be sore later?” Wes asks. Nurse Belmont actually laughs out loud.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Nurse Belmont says good-bye to me, and after I give my gram a hug, promising to call her soon, the two women go off to discuss tonight’s situation. This is the first time I’ve seen my grandmother as the person Dr. McKee described. A woman connected, leading even. It never occurred to me the kind of sway she had at the hospital until now.
Pop walks us out and gets Wes into the car. We look around, checking to make sure we’re not being watched, and then I tell Pop that I love him.
“Be careful,” he says, sounding desperate. He looks like he might cry, and honestly, I don’t blame him. If this weren’t my story, I’d think it was already too late. But I won’t give up.
It’s The Program or me. And I decide it’s going to be me.
•••
Wes sleeps on the way to the diner, waking up when I park in the lot, hidden toward the back in a spot with no lights. The rain has finally stopped, leaving everything soaked and wilted. We’re a half hour early, and the restaurant appears to be deserted. There’s only one other car near the back door, probably someone who works there.
“I don’t think we should go inside,” Wes says, groaning as he adjusts his position in the seat. “Let’s see who arrives first. Get a better idea what we’re dealing with.”
“I agree,” I say, and look sideways at him. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m...,” Wes starts, wincing once. “I’m kind of irritated that the drugs are wearing off.” He smiles and turns to me. He holds out his good hand to call me toward him.
I move over as far as I can and rest my head on the edge of his seat rather than on his shoulder. I slip my hand into his, and he intertwines our fingers and rests them on his lap.
“I don’t regret it,” he says. “If you’re thinking I’m regretting getting involved with you again, I don’t.”
“That’s because you’re fucking insane,” I say, making him laugh. “You should run far away.”
“I’ll never run. Not unless it’s with you.”
I smile to myself. “You’re being really sweet,” I say, watching the building, getting lost in the feeling of his fingers stroking mine.
“You can be sweet too,” he replies playfully. “If you wanted to... I don’t know, distract me from the parts of my body that are now separated from each other.”
I lift my head and look at the side of his face. He’s got his eyes closed, a soft smile on his lips. His entire expression relaxed. He’s such an idiot, and I love him for it.
It would be completely inappropriate to hook up in the car while his arm is in a sling. After we were attacked.Whileon our way to more disaster. But I’ll be honest, the more reasons I think of not to, the more I want to.
Wes bites on his lower lip in anticipation, and I’m helpless in how badly I want him. How I want to take up his entire world, and him mine.
“We could just try it,” he whispers. “Or I can do all the work. I don’t mind.”
To be honest, he’s pretty good at what he does, but not tonight.
I lower myself toward his lap, and his breath catches in his chest—a little surprised. He slides his good hand into my hair, gently brushing it aside. And then he murmurs in a serious voice, “If I get erased tonight and end up forgetting this, I’m going to be so pissed.”
And then we both crack up laughing.
•••
“Now, I’m not a doctor,” Wes says a little later, blinking like he’s trying to clear his head. “But we probably could have skipped the drugs and gone straight to that.”
“Something to keep in mind for next time,” I reply like he’s making sense, and check my reflection before flipping up the mirror. It’s ten minutes past the time when Realm was supposed to arrive, and I’m beginning to get worried. Although Wes isn’t currently in any pain, and, I would daresay, he’s in a spectacular mood considering our situation, this state of euphoria won’t last forever. He needs to rest.
“Should we do this?” I ask, motioning toward the restaurant.
