“Thank you,” she whispers.
I only squeeze her tighter.
39
MELANIE
Iwake in a satisfied, sleepy haze. Warmth spreads through me, and I feel more content than I have in days. I try to move but an arm is wrapped tightly around my hip, a hardness pressing into me. Then everything comes back to me. My dad. Josh. The hospital. McDonald’s. Hotel room. Surgery today. I move Josh’s arm off my hip and slip out of bed.
A sigh escapes him, and I turn back, studying him carefully. His forehead is creased, like he’s dreaming about something concerning. His long lashes flutter and he smacks his lips in his sleep before rolling to his back. Every part of me aches to crawl back in bed and curl into the crook of his arm. I would whisper I’m sorry in his ear and show him how much he means to me. But visiting hours start at eight a.m. and I need to get back to my dad.
I move quickly to the bathroom, stripping down and turning on the shower. I never showered after the beach yesterday, and the warm water cascading down my body feels heavenly. I close my eyes and moan as the warmth runs through, soothing my tired bones. A memory of when I had the flu a few weeks ago and Josh showered me floods my mind, and heat pools in the apex of my thighs. What I wouldn’t give for him to come wash my hair for me now.
I love Josh. I know that. The way he stepped up for me yesterday softened something inside me. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. I’ve never had someone see me, see my pain, and carry it for me. Josh does that. He must love me, too. Right?
I tried to broach the subject last night, but he said it wasn’t the time. And now I’m terrified he hasn’t forgiven me. I need to talk to him before the concert. I can’t go into that without clearing the air between us.
I finish washing and turn off the shower and that’s when I hear Josh talking on the phone. I dry off quickly, wrapping the towel around me. I crack open the door and listen.
“I don’t know, Gary, we need to see how things are with her Dad.” Josh’s voice sounds strained. “It might just be me.”
I frown, fighting the urge to storm out of the bathroom in protest.
“I mean the concert is still on, of course it is,” Josh is saying. “I just have to see what Mel will be up for. We haven’t talked about it yet.”
At this, I swing open the door all the way and stomp over to him, frustration bubbling beneath me.
At the sight of my tiny hotel towel, Josh’s mouth falls open. I stare at him incredulously.
“What do you mean, it might just be you?” I mouth to him.
He furrows his brow, confused. “What?” He mouths back.
I stomp my foot, crossing my arms.
“Okay, okay, hold on Gary.” Josh covers the mouthpiece. “What’s wrong?”
“Why did you say it might just be you? Are you kicking me out of the concert?” I sit down on the edge of the bed opposite him.
“What? No, of course not.” Josh shakes his head.
“Then what?”
“Hang on, Gary,” Josh says into his phone. “Gary wants to take us to dinner before the concert or after. I just said… I just said we have to see how your dad is.”
“Oh.”
“I’m not kicking you out of anywhere,” Josh murmurs. His gaze turns fiery for a moment, and it takes everything in me not to climb into his lap. “Okay, Gar.” He turns his attention back to the call. “I’ll let you know later today how we make out. Okay. Thanks.” Then to me, “Gary says he’ll say some prayers for your dad.”
My frustration softens. “Thanks, Gary,” I say, hoping he catches it.
“I’ll call you later. Bye.” Josh ends the call.
He meets my gaze then, amusement flickering in his eyes.
“What?” I frown.
“You were spying on me.” His lips twitch.
