Sarah hugs me one more time.
I return to Vince, taking his hand. He doesn’t wake.
13
VINCE
Iwake to the thin, papery light of morning pushing through the vertical blinds. For a second, I forget where I am. Nothing about this room is familiar. The antiseptic smell, the too-firm bed, the heaviness in my bones that isn’t quite pain but isn’t rest either.
Then it hits me.
The hospital. Head injury. Oliver’s shriek before I blacked out.
Was that really only yesterday? It feels like I’ve been out for days. Hell, maybe I have.
Everything aches like I ran a marathon in my sleep. My mouth is dry, and my thoughts are slow, but they sharpen a little more with each passing second.
I blink hard as I look around, taking in the plain blue walls, the ugly privacy curtain, and the large whiteboard with indecipherable numbers. Seeing the buttons on the handrail, Iuse them to shift the bed into a sitting position. A soft blue blanket slips down my chest to my lap, and cool air touches my arms. I shiver.
Someone has draped a clean hospital nightgown over the chair, and it makes me wonder what happened to my clothes… and my phone. I need to find it so I can call Declan and Fletcher.
As if summoned, the door slides open, casting fresh light through the privacy curtain. I can’t see who it is until they pull it to the side, and relief floods me.
Fletcher steps into the room, balancing a canvas bag, a plastic hygiene kit, and a brown paper bag. His usually tidy hair is a mess and his shirt wrinkled, but the tension around his eyes softens immediately when he sees me.
“Hey.” He looks like he didn’t sleep well even though he’d gone home. “Wasn’t sure if you’d be up yet.”
I glance at the clock. It’s barely seven a.m.
I try not to show how good it feels to see him. “Yeah. Just starting to move.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like someone railroaded me.”
“I bet.” He sets the stuff on the tray table before turning to me. “Brought some of your things. Figured you might want your own clothes if they let you shower. Oh, and, uh… toothpaste and deodorant. You’re welcome.”
I huff out a laugh. “I appreciate the hint.”
His smile is weak as he reaches for me, curling a hand around my wrist as if he’s been aching to touch me all morning. The touch reminds me—I had strange dreams of him last night. Of us driving along the coast and holding hands. Kissing. Doing so much more than kissing.
They were strange because I was so damn happy in them. I can’t remember a time in my life when I was ever that happy… yet it’s all I’ve felt since I’ve gotten to know Fletcher.
“Oh! Georgie says hi. She was worried about you when she heard what happened.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“She insisted I bring you this.” He pulls a rectangular device from the side pocket of the bag.
“Is that her… game thing?”
He chuckles. “Nintendo Switch, yes. She thought it could help pass the time.”
Georgie has tried to get me to play, but so far I’ve mostly just watched. Too many buttons for me.
He touches the side of my head, voice lowering. “God, it’s so good to see color in your face again, Vince. You really scared me.”
Before I can reply, a knock sounds, and a doctor comes in, wheeling a portable chart station. Fletcher steps back. I miss his touch instantly.
