I lift my gaze from the phone and stare at the door. What am I doing? This isn’t my plan. It’s too early. Too many loose ends. I made these choices for very good, logical, intelligent reasons, with contingency plans in place.
I shift in bed, and the pain in my stomach flares up. A reminder of both a literal and metaphorical painful truth.
I died.
For eleven minutes, I was gone with no memories of an afterlife or anything else. I remember being in Lance’s arms, and then I woke up in a bed. I don’t remember Lena coming in crying over me, but she says she did. I don’t know how my staff or friends were doing while I was unresponsive. Just darkness.
And for eleven minutes, the world didn’t have me in it.
And you know what? Life kept going for everyone else. The sun still rose in the morning. Traffic was still shitty. There was no observable change because I wasn’t in it.
All my plans were useless, and all it took was a vengeful little bitch and a knife. A lifetime of work gone in an instant.
Loneliness and futility encase my mind. I’m used to fighting these feelings off with a to-do list. But now…
My feet touch the hotel carpet, and I walk back into the living room. Grae’s legs hang off the side of the couch. I can’t tell if he’s asleep or not, behind the stubble and extra years on his face, he’s the boy I loved.
No. The man. And it’s hard to reconcile his last words all those years ago with who’s in front of me.
“Grae?”
“Hmm?” He opens his eyes and gives me a grin. One arm extends toward him while the other wraps around my stomach.
“I don’t want to be alone.” The words feel unnatural coming out of my mouth, but they’re the truth. He takes my hand.
“Okay.” I lead him back to the bed, and he slides in beside me without complaint or smug noises.
“Do you want to be the little spoon?”
“Yes, but please don’t touch my stomach.”
He pauses before pulling my body next to his. He’s warm and tender beneath a chest of muscle. He whispers into my ear, “I didn’t want to be alone either.”
Our breathing syncs into a slow, steady rhythm. He’s going to want more time with me. How long can I keep him before losing him again? Or worse, what if he doesn’t want more time? But that’s a problem for the morning.
CHAPTER 9
Grae
I can’t lose her again. I won’t. Now I just need to figure out how to keep her. The sun is rising, and she’s still out cold. She makes tiny snores and twitches in her sleep.
Step one: go above and beyond. But be careful not to love bomb her. She won’t trust it, and she’ll be as good as gone. But I need to make her feel cared for.
I spend a few minutes on my phone, getting everything she’s going to need to make it a good day before she awakens. But once everything is in motion, I roll over and start kissing her shoulder to wake her up.
She moans like a kitten making biscuits, then then shoots up so fast she almost clocks me in the chin. “Shit! What time is it?”
“Almost eight.” She throws off the sheets, but I wrap my arms around her and yank her back into bed. I say, “No.” She blinks at me a few times, like she doesn’t understand. I smirk because I’m not surprised. “You don’t hear the word ‘No’ often, do you?”
“It’s a word I use, but most people aren’t stupid enough to say it to my face.”
Ok I need a new tactic. “Just wait a second and listen.”
“Literally my least favorite things.” She pouts, so pull out an oldie but a goodie I used to do when we were younger—I roll on top of her and remind her of her options.
“One, you can throw on that evening gown and do a walk of shame through the lobby of this very exclusive hotel. Or two, you can take a shower, and when you come out, I’ll have breakfast and clean clothes for you.”
She huffs and rolls her head side to side. “Fine, I’ll shower,” she says with hesitation.
