Page 195 of Puck Me Back to Life

Just quiet.

I continue rubbing slow circles across his back. His breathing gradually evens out. The tension leaves his shoulders one careful inch at a time.

Minutes pass.

Maybe twenty.

Maybe thirty.

Eventually his grip on my shirt loosens. His head grows heavier against my shoulder.

“Kai?”

No answer.

I smile despite everything.

He fell asleep. Still holding onto me. I shift carefully, easing him back into the passenger seat without waking him. His head tips toward the window.

I tuck my hoodie beneath his cheek as a pillow.

Then I pull back onto the road.

By the time we reach my apartment, it's well past midnight. The city has gone quiet.

I walk around to the passenger side and open the door. “Kai.”

Nothing. His eyelashes don't even flutter. He's completely spent.

I undo his seat belt and slide one arm beneath his knees. The other settles behind his back. He instinctively curls closer the moment I lift him. His face buries against my neck. A sleepy sigh escapes him.

My heart breaks all over again.

The elevator ride passes in silence. I unlock my condo one-handed. The familiar smell of cedar and coffee greets us.

I carry him straight to my bedroom.

Carefully. Slowly.

Like he's made of glass.

I ease him onto the mattress. He doesn't wake. I pull off his shoes. Then his hoodie. Then cover him with my comforter.

For the first time all day, his face looks peaceful. I kneel beside the bed. My forearms rest on the mattress. For a long time, I simply watch him breathe. The rise and fall of his chest becomes the only movement in the room.

I brush a strand of blond hair away from his forehead.

“So stubborn,” I whisper. “So unbelievably stubborn.”

My throat tightens. “You don't have to fight all of this by yourself anymore. I'm here.”

He doesn't stir. He's too deeply asleep to hear me. Maybe that's why the next words come so easily.

I lean forward and press a gentle kiss against his temple.

“I'll stay.” The promise feels frighteningly natural. “I'll help you carry this.”

My thumb brushes lightly across his cheek.