Page 131 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

She won't sit still and she won't sleep, and by hour forty she's swaying on her feet in the corridor, and none of us can get her to admit it.

Luckily, Rhys finds a fix. Disappears for ten minutes and comes back with a nurse who says Alexia can use an empty room down the hall, just to close her eyes for a bit.

“How did you manage that?” I ask him.

“I asked.”

Right. Of course. Why didn't I think of that?

I'm being flippant. Truth is, I didn't think of it. Rhys always does, and then just does it. For a split second I feel like a failure — to Alexia, for not giving her what she needs, and to Leon. If I'm already risking our friendship, the least I could do is take care of his sister properly.

Later, Zach. Time for beating yourself up is later.

Surprisingly, Alexia follows the nurse, agreeing to lie down, which tells me exactly how tired she is. I ask if she wants one of us to sit with her. She hesitates; I watch her want to say yes, then shakes her head.

“No. Better you're out here, in case there's news.”

“Lex,” I say, though there aren't any other words to follow.

She just turns and stumbles down the corridor, and I let her go, because I don't know what I'd say next if she stopped.

She's asleep less than an hour when I go to wake her.

She startles up off the pillow like the room's on fire.

“What happened? Is Leon okay?” are the first words out of my mouth, even before her eyes are fully open.

“He's awake,” I tell her. “Come on, sweetheart. He's asking for you.”

She's out of the bed before I finish the sentence, flinging herself at me, her arms around my neck as she lets out a short, fierce sound that isn't quite a laugh and isn't quite a sob.

Then she seems to catch herself doing it, pulls back fast, and clears her throat. “Um, sorry.”

“Why are you apologis⁠—”

“We better go,” she cuts me off. “I'm gonna go give my stupid big brother one hell of a talking to.”

“You look like shit,” is the first thing he says to her, which is such a Leon thing to say that it causes her to burst out into tears.

If he's startled, he doesn't show it — just rolls his eyes, which turns into a chuckle when she slaps his arm.

“I look like shit? I'm not the one who tried to merge lanes with a kangaroo.” She sits down on the chair I drag over for her next to his bed. “What were you thinking? Driving out here at night, for my birthday? Do you know what that would have done to me, if⁠—”

“But did I die?” Slow, emphasising every word, a ghost of a grin at the corner of his mouth. “Bit of a non-issue, really. So dramatic, little sis. You know me — the things I'll do for a good story.”

She glares. “That's not funny.”

“Then I guess I better work harder at getting an even better story.” He grins at me and I shake my head, but relief spreads in my chest like a warm cup of tea.

Alexia goes very still, and for a second I think she's going to let him have it. Instead her face crumples, and she leans forward and presses her forehead to the back of his hand.

“Never again,” she says, muffled. “You are never, ever doing something that stupid for me again.”

“Can't promise that.” His fingers twitch against her hair. “You're kind of worth being stupid for.”

She doesn't scold him again. Just sits and talks, tells him she loves him, that their mum's working out how to get off the cruise ship and home, which he protests, about her studies. He drifts in and out, eyes opening every time she pauses.

Eventually, her words are slow and slurred, her own eyes starting to fall. The nurse comes and says he needs rest, and suggests Alexia do the same.