“You’re okay,” he says and it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. “You’re alive. You’re gonna pull through.”
“Yeah.”
We stay like that for a long time, holding each other. It’s not until I try to adjust, getting uncomfortable under Wade’s weight that Wade finally moves. Thankfully, he doesn’t go far. Instead, he crawls under the covers, lying on his back. He pulls me against himself so I’m resting on his chest, his strong arms around me.
“Is this okay?”
“Yes,” I tell him, squeezing his side. “This is good.”
Wade is so fucking warm. My eyes grow heavy, my body threatening to give out on me now that I’m in Wade’s arms, butI fight it. I don’t want to go back to sleep. I want to revel in this feeling, revel in our closeness.
“Briggs,” Wade says softly, his chest rumbling under my ear. “Go to sleep. We can talk when you wake up again.”
I want to fight it, but Wade starts to hum, his hand traveling through my hair and down my spine. It feels so good that I can’t help but fall asleep.
When I wake up again, light streams in through the window in this room. Wade is still here, holding me. I could get used to this. I could get used to waking up every morning in his arms, unashamed. Something between us has changed, that much is certain, even if I still don’t know what exactly.
“Wade.”
“Hi,” he says softly, adjusting so that my head is on the pillow instead of his chest. He scoots down so we’re face to face. This is intimate in a way I wasn’t prepared for. Now I can see his features, meet his eyes. “How are you feeling?”
I close my eyes for a moment before answering, wanting to give him the most honest answer possible.
“Okay,” I tell him seriously. “I’m exhausted, my head is throbbing, my throat feels like there’s pieces of glass still lodged in places, and my entire body aches. But I’m okay.”
“That’s all?”
“Yeah,” I say, finally smiling. “That’s all.”
We stay like that for a long moment, Wade’s eyes flashing over my face, taking every one of my features in. I would be uncomfortable with the staring if it was anyone but Wade. Finally, he’s moving, bringing a hand to cup my face.
“Briggs,” Wade whispers, his voice breaking and oh no, that won’t do. That won’t do at all.
“Hey,” I say, bringing my own hand up, touching his. He sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes widening. “It’s okay.I’mokay, Wade.”
“I was so fucking worried,” Wade confesses, barely loud enough for me to hear.
A memory hits me square in the chest, an angry voice shouting at me in the cold, telling me they hate me.
I swallow thickly. “It’s okay that you hate me,” I tell him even though my chest feels like it’s being torn apart. “Youshouldhate me. All I do is put the people around me at risk. People take care of me and it gets them killed, Wade.”
“What?”
“That’s how my brother died. He jumped in front of a zombie for me. It should have been me.” I shake my head under his hand, looking away, my eyes filling with tears all over again. “All I do is bring the people around me down. I’msosorry.”
“Briggs,” Wade says, cutting me off. I open my eyes, staring at him. He looks upset, but not angry. “Shut the fuck up, okay?”
“Okay,” I say softly.
“I don’t hate you. I couldn’t hate you even if I wanted to.”
“But,” I start to say, “I heard.”
“Really? Out of everythingthat’sthe part your fever-fueled brain latched onto? Jesus Christ,” he says but there’s a slight fondness to his voice. I focus on that. Maybe there’s a chance that not all is lost. Maybe everything will be okay.
“What did you say then?”
“Oh, I said that I hate you but not in the way you think. I hate how much I’ve grown to care about you. I hate the way it feels like my heart is being torn from my chest when I see you hurt or upset. I hate the way I felt so helpless,” he breathes out, his voice catching. “I couldn’t do a damn thing to save you and Ihatedit, Briggs.” Wade licks his lips. “I hated all of that because I fuckinglove you. You don’t bring people down, Briggs! You raise them up and make them better. You makemebetter.”
