“Course they do.” I shot him a smile to show I got it—and Jesus, did I ever. It was why Finn had left; it was why I’d done the same two nights ago. Because people talked. And unlike Tay and Dean, Finn and I…
We’d already broken the rules. We were not innocent.
I rubbed my knuckles against a cold gust of wind and told myself to keep breathing, smiling, functioning. It seemed to get harder by the day.
FIFTEEN
FINN
Sunday stutter-stopped like tractor traffic on a one-lane road—lazy and uneven, moving in bursts and then stalling again. One moment I was sweating through the sheets, then shivering under two blankets, limbs heavy with underwater fatigue that slowed every thought to a crawl. Scratchy throat, steady throb behind my eyes. Time slipped sideways, measured in lukewarm tea and swallowing pills that hurt on the way down.
I wasn’t alone. A cool hand brushed my forehead now and again, voice low and patient. Jesse? He’d… He’d taken me home, right? Foggy memory of slumping against him in the elevator, his arm around my waist.
Tired. So very tired. I still turned toward the sound, cracked my eyes open for a second.
Ugh, bright. Silhouette by the doorway. Familiar…?
Oh.
Not Jesse.
“Hey,” Neil said in a gentle murmur. It grated only very faintly against the dull pounding in my head. “You need to take this, okay? Then sleep some more.”
I blinked a few times until he shifted into focus. He offered me a pill along with a glass of water, and I sat up against theheadboard with a noise that was maybe a question. Even the scant light that filtered in through mostly closed curtains made me feel queasy. Stupid head. Stupid body. Stupideverything.
“Tylenol,” Neil said gently. “And fluids. Come on, Finn—don’t make me do the airplane thing.”
I tipped my head back, spine cracking in protest. “More fun if you did,” I croaked.
“Hmm, yeah.” He eased down onto the edge of the bed, ready to help steady my hand. “You definitely look in top shape to have some serious fun.”
“This is my party face.” I swallowed the pill, gulped some water that Neil had warmed so it didn’t irritate my throat. That accomplished, I fell back onto the pillow with a grunt and pulled the blanket back up like a shield.
“Yeah,” he said mildly, placating. “It’ll definitely bring all the boys to the yard.”
“Just want the one,” I muttered, not even really thinking, head too achy to weigh my words.
Neil paused, then wiped a damp cloth over my forehead. Not sure where he’d pulled it from. Magic, maybe. “Jesse?” he asked, hushed so it only just brushed against the edges of my consciousness.
I sighed, everything heavy and off-center. “Yeah. Him.”
“He seemed nice.”
“He’s…” I didn’t know how to finish, sleep pulling me down a dark road, slow and winding. “Good. He’s just…good, Neil. Why didn’t he stay?”
“‘Wish I could.’” Neil’s voice dropped. “That’s what he said.”
That… Yeah. A wispy memory floated in a corner of my mind. He had said that, hadn’t he?
“Me too,” I said because I wished. Iwished. Even though I knew that he… We… That it wasn’t what we were. Couldn’t be. But I wished.
Another cough racked my chest. I closed my eyes until it got better, and then I just…kept them closed. Sinking.
How are you feeling today?
I stared at Jesse’s message and willed my brain to line up letters, words, some semblance of coherence. The simple fact that I’d managed to check my phone today—that, right there, meant improvement. Breathing was better. Marginally so. Air still scraping on the way down, lungs fluttering, but…better. Like I might actually make it to the kitchen at some point today.
And—Jesse. He’d taken me home, wanted to know how I was doing. Even with, well, everything.
