Page 59 of Toxic Kiss

Picking up the plastic cup, I hold the straw to his lips. His eyes remain locked on mine as he drinks. Finishing, he tries to sit up.

“Here, let me.”

I press the buttons on the side of his bed until he is upright.

“Thanks. I was…I was about to sing the encore and—I remember falling and you running toward me, but that’s it.”

“You collapsed and were rushed to the hospital. We’re in a private room.”

He looks around. “And you came?”

“Yeah, of course. Where else would I be?”

He blinks again. “You came,” he repeats, like he still can’t believe it.

There is something about how he says those two words that lances my heart. I can feel the loneliness and sadness, but I don’t understand it. He’s always been the center of everyone’s orbit. Sadly, including my own.

“You scared the shit out of me, you…you…ass,” I mumble, but there is no real heat in the insult, and his lip twitches.

He squints and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Can you turn off the lights. They’re hurting my eyes,” Cy says, waving his arm toward the wall. “My head is pounding.”

“Well, you did drop center stage like a lead singer with a flair for dramatics,” I tease, walking to the door. “In other words, right on brand.”

“Great. Fucking great.”

“It will be fine. In fact, the fans are going crazy with worry. There are over five million views and loads of comments. I love you, Cy. Please be okay, Cy. OMG noooo not Cy,” I say, clutching my hands over my heart as I hit the lights. “Do you want me to tell the guys you’re awake?”

Cy shakes his head.

“I can’t handle them yet.”

He doesn’t say anything else but continues to stare at me as I return to the seat by his bed. I sip my coffee and ignore the sharp, bitter taste burning my throat. Cy suddenly smirks.

“Sit here.” He pats the bed and then holds out his hand. “It’s hard to see you there.”

The glutton for punishment I am, I stupidly do as he asks. I swear I need my head examined, or maybe an exorcism to rid this man from my life.

“Where is everyone?”

“The guys are down the hall in a sitting room. Your mom and my dad are on the way back from Brazil. Declan, I have no clue.”

“And you’re in here with me,” he whispers, and I fidget.

“I am, but don’t let it go to your head. It’s not like we’re friends again or anything. Not that we were ever really friends, I guess,” I ramble, and then shake my head. “You know what I mean.”

His thumb traces over the back of my hand softly as his eyes search my face.

“You were the last thing I saw. Right before everything went dark. I thought...I thought I was going to die out there, and your face was the only one I wanted to see.”

“Don’t, Cy,” I say, looking away and biting my lip. “I can’t do this.”

I blink back tears as relief washes over me, but it is mixed with a deep longing that I’m trying desperately to ignore. I try to tug my hand away, but he holds me tighter. His eyes cloud with something heavier.

“Haven. I don’t want to die without telling you...without…I…fuck.”

My eyebrow raises. “You fuck? I think I know that.”