It took every last ounce of my sleep-deprived willpower not to moan into his clean cotton t-shirt as I let him hold me a handful of heartbeats too long, not quite strong enough to pull away any sooner than I had to.
Eventually Seth pushed Ward out of the way to throw his arms around me too, squeezing almost as tight as Ward had despite being something like a third of his size.
“You’re home,” Seth said. “Everything’s gonna be okay, okay?”
That was exactly what he was supposed to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe it. My life felt like it was over.
But the smell of bacon wafting from behind the counter reminded my stomach that I’d been neglecting it.
Seth laughed, letting go of me and herding me into a low, squishy armchair that felt like a third hug.
“I’m getting you breakfast,” he said. “And coffee.”
“I love you,” I said, and I meant it. Anyone who was planning to provide me with food and coffee right now had my undying adoration.
“You look like shit,” Ward said once Seth was out of earshot.
I snorted, wriggling further into the armchair and covering a yawn. “Thanks.”
“You know what I mean.” Ward sat forward, looking me over inch by inch. “When did you last sleep?”
I took a breath to respond, but I couldn’t figure out what the answer was. I must’ve passed out at some point in the last few days, but I didn’t remember it.
“What is thissleepyou speak of?” I joked.
Ward’s brow creased.
“You should’ve called me,” he said. “I would’ve picked you up.”
Of course he would have. He would have made a 30-hour round trip to come get me, because Ward had a heart of solid gold beating under that broad chest of his.
Silence fell for a few beats while I picked at a loose thread on the arm of my chair, unsure what else to say.
“It’s fine,” I said, ignoring my phone as it vibrated in my hand. Nothing good had come from checking it over the last couple of days. I shoved it in my pocket, out of sight if not out of mind.
“You can check it, I won’t think you’re being rude,” Ward said. “I know you’re busy. And… important, and stuff.”
I snorted. “Ward, I’ve been making romantic dramas for daytime TV where I’m not allowed to saydamnin case it offends my core audience. I’m not important at all.”
“Well, you are to me,” Ward said. Quiet, like he meant it.
I hesitated, running the heel of my hand over my pocket. I wanted to check, no matter how sure I was that it couldn’t be good news.
That was probably some kind of masochism.
“You’re still wearing the watch,” Ward spoke up again.
My hand went automatically to my wrist. He was right. I was still wearing the watch.Thewatch. The watch…
The watch Ward had given me on the night of my seventeenth birthday. I could still smell the candle wax from the cake Mr. Harrison—Ward’s dad—had baked for me. I was a July baby, so my birthdays were always hot, and since I’d been eleven or twelve it was tradition to celebrate at the beach.
Ward had dragged me a little away from everyone else, just out of sight. I could still remember the way my stomach fluttered as he took my hand, I still remembered the ridiculous teenage fantasy that this was it, that Ward had been waiting to tell me he knew how I felt about him and he felt the same way. He was always shy, but he’d seemed shier that night, like he was on the verge of something.
He’d handed me my gift—a watch, so I’d stop being late all the time. It hadn’t worked, but in the moment after I’d thanked him there’d been a pause. It was probably only a heartbeat, but it’d felt like an eternity, and I’d thought,reallythought, that he was going to kiss me.
I wanted him to, more than anything. Or I wanted to be brave enough to ask if I could kiss him.
“Of course I am,” I said. “You gave it to me.”
