“Glad to see you made it back, Gamble,” Papaw said, coming into Weston’s room and taking Gamble’s hand.
“Drove through the night.”
Papaw nodded, his concerned eyes landing on me, taking in the dark circles under my eyes. “Darlin’,” he sighed, “you need to eat something and get some rest. He wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
“I’m fine.” I wasn’t leaving his side. “I can sleep when I’m dead.”
“Hattie,” Granny scolded. “This isn’t healthy.”
I gave her a look that I hoped conveyed exactly how I felt about that suggestion. I wasn’t leaving his side. Not for anything.
Granny sighed, recognizing the stubborn set to my jaw. She’d seen it enough times growing up. “At least eat something, sweetheart. You’re wasting away to nothing.”
I glanced down at myself. The jeans I’d been wearing for a week hung loose on my hips, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually finished a meal.
“I’ll eat something in a little while,” I promised, though we all knew it was a lie.
Granny and Papaw exchanged a look, having an entire conversation without words.
“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Papaw said finally, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Call if anything changes.”
“I’m gonna head out too, darlin’,” Gamble said, giving me another squeeze. “Once I wash the road off and catch a nap, I’ll be back. I’ll call before I come and see if you need anything, yeah?”
I nodded and settled back into the uncomfortable plastic chair that had become my second home. The nurses had offered to bring me a cot, but I wanted to be able to hold his hand and see his face in case he woke up.
It was about an hour later when Gator appeared in the doorway, his massive frame filling it completely. He looked as tired as I felt.
“Any changes?” he asked, dropping into the chair Tacoma had been in earlier.
“I felt his fingers twitch a few times,” I said, hope creeping into my voice. “The nurses said that was normal.”
Gator nodded, his ice-blue eyes fixed on his best friend’s face. “He looks better.”
I studied Weston’s face, trying to see what Gator saw. Maybe there was a little more color in his cheeks. I wasn’t sure. I just knew that I was desperate to see improvement where maybe there wasn’t any.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
Gator’s eyebrows shot up. “Me?”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t act all tough with me, Drake Montgomery. He’s your best friend. You two have been friends since you were in diapers.”
His expression softened. “Been better, doll,” he admitted with a shrug. “I’ll be happy when he’s awake and bitching at me about something stupid.”
“Me too,” I whispered.
“You two miss me?”
My eyes shot to Weston’s. They were open.
“Welcome back,” I choked out, tears streaming down my face as I gripped his hand with both of mine.
Gator was on his feet in an instant. “You scared the shit out of us, brother.”
“How long have I been out?” Weston rasped, his voice rough, like he’d gargled gravel.
“Six days,” I said, bringing his hand to my lips and pressing kisses to his knuckles. “Six very long days.”
His free hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away my tears. “Don’t cry, Songbird. I’m right here.”
