I’m not entirely sure why I feel so protective of Cosmos’ little sister, but I don’t want her getting hurt, even if I think she should be able to make her own mistakes, and even though I’ll probably never see her again.
I don’t know where this thing with Cosmos is going. If it’s even going anywhere. But I doubt it’lllast. Kane was my longest relationship—he even asked me to move in with him, although it was really more about convenience, since my lease was up and he couldn’t find a roommate. Our entire relationship was only six months long, and as soon as he found a roommate and things started getting difficult with Mom, he broke up with me.
Cosmos knows about Mom, and I’m sure he understands how challenging it can be to be a caregiver. But he doesn’t know about me. And what a mess I am. I should probably keep it that way. ‘Cause as soon as he sees what an emotional nutter I am, he’ll leave just like everyone else.
Chapter Sixteen
It’s strange to have Cosmos in my car. I don’t like to drive with other people very often, for several reasons, not the least of which is my ridiculous routine. I didn’t think about it when I agreed to take Cosmos back to the hospital. He looked so miserable with his sister, I just opened my mouth and said yes. Now, I’m stuck with the consequences.
“Everything okay? Do I have something on my face?” He leans over the middle console and flashes me a smile that says he knows perfectly well that there’s nothing on his beautiful face and he simply caught me staring.
I take a deep breath and buckle my seat belt. It’s not like there isn’t a high chance he already thinks I’m strange, so what the hell, why not add more fuel to the fire?
I adjust the rearview mirror. Turn on the car.Check the side mirrors. Pull out the bottle of hand sanitizer I keep in the cupholder and pour a generous amount into my palm. I rub my wet hands along the steering wheel and gearshift. Adjust the rearview mirror again. Squeeze more hand sanitizer onto my hands. Rub my phone down. Squeeze out more and smear it on the bottle, then into my skin.
To my surprise, Cosmos doesn’t comment. He holds out his palm. There’s no teasing smile or annoyed, impatient grimace. He just waits. I pour a dollop of hand sanitizer onto his hand, and he casually rubs it in.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He doesn’t respond. There isn’t really a need for it, but when I glance over at him, a soft smile curves his lips.
I adjust the rearview mirror one last time and pull out of the parking lot. Cosmos asks if he can turn on the radio, and I wonder if he’s trying to distract himself from worrying about his sister, or from the fact that I haven’t mentioned his poem. I’m not sure what to say.
He flips through the stations, settling on one playing Taylor Swift’sBlank Space. He quietly sings along to the words, surprising me yet again.
The hospital isn’t far from The Book Bar, so within a few minutes we’re parking near the emergency room. The rest of the doors are already locked, and this is the only way in after midnight.
I turn off the car, but don’t get out. Cosmos doesn’t either. The music continues to play, changingto a song I don’t know. The musician croons something about her first love.
“She has to make her own mistakes,” I whisper.
Cosmos doesn’t need me to explain who I mean. He’s been tense ever since his sister threw herself at her boyfriend.
“I know.” He changes the radio station again. This time to a soft jazz station. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
We sit there for longer than I would be comfortable with anyone else. It’s not awkward, but there’s a tension that grows with each crescendo of the song, an energy that pulses between us, threatening to snap. I turn the car off, silencing the music, but still, neither of us moves.
“What mistakes did you make, Hazel Berton?” His voice is warm and rich, echoing the notes of the song that was just playing.
I fidget with the little blue bear on my keychain. “Oh, you know. Same as everyone else.”
“I don’t believe you.” He turns, so he’s facing me. “You don’t strike me as the type to make the drunk and disorderly mistakes most college students make.”
I twist the keychain I stole when I was seventeen through my fingers. My first boyfriend dared me to shoplift something from Walmart on our second date. I was uncomfortable, but he kept pushing, saying everyone was going to steal one thing, and if I was too scared, I could wait in the car. He teased me until I agreed. I wanted them to like me. I wanted to be as cool and interesting as they were. So, I stole the littleblue bear keychain. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done.
I regretted it immediately and went back the next day to pay for it. Every time I look at it, I remind myself not to make decisions based on what other people want, to speak up for myself. My consciousness still hasn’t gotten the message.
“What about you?” I deflect. “Were you the type to make the typical mistakes?”
“Drinking, some. Drugs, not so much. Girls…” He lets his mischievous smile finish the sentence for him.
I don’t want to think about Cosmos’ sex life. That won’t help my growing infatuation with the man. That way lies madness. And jealousy. And images of Cosmos that I shouldn’t entertain while he’s on my mom’s medical team. I open the door and make a quick exit.
Cosmos does the same, and we fall into step together. I stop a few feet before we get to the door, realizing that he’s probably not going inside, since it’s his night off. “Well, I guess this is goodnight.”
This feels so much like a date. A very weird date. A date where he walks me to the emergency room rather than my door.
He’s looking at me with the same intensity he had after he finished his poem, his expression making my insides flutter.
