Page 148 of Sparks Fly

Her eyes flashed with something sharp.

“You do not get to be tough right now,” she told me.

There was no anger in her voice. Just fear. And care so thick between us it felt almost physical.

I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them again, my voice came out quieter. “I don’t like this.”

“I know,” she said immediately. “But I’m here.”

That helped more than I wanted to admit.

After a while, though I wasn’t sure how long, I shifted slightly in the bed. Time felt strange in hospitals, stretching and folding in ways that made it impossible to measure.

Comfort apparently wasn’t an option.

My shoulder ached constantly, like someone had packed the joint with broken glass. I probably needed more meds, but I was trying my best to ignore it. The mattress was too narrow, too stiff, and every position felt wrong.

“Addie?” I said.

She looked up instantly. “Yes?”

“Will you… come here?”

She hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said carefully.

“You won’t.” After a moment, I added quietly, “I don’t want to be alone in this bed.”

Something in her expression softened.

She nodded and carefully climbed onto the narrow hospital mattress beside me, moving slowly like she was handling something fragile. She settled awkwardly at first, half on her side and half propped on one elbow.

“You good?” I asked.

“I’m fine.”

She was lying.

A faint smile tugged at my mouth. “Liar.”

She let out a quiet laugh and shifted until she fit closer against me. The second her body settled against my side, warm and careful, something in my chest loosened.

My breathing slowed. My muscles unclenched like they had been waiting for permission.

“Oh,” she murmured, feeling the change in me.

I nodded and rested my forehead against her collarbone. “Yeah.”

For the first time since the accident, I got comfortable.

Then I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke again, it was almost nine a.m. everything hurt.

My body felt stiff and heavy from the medication. A dull throb pulsed behind my eye and a deeper ache settled into my shoulder every time I breathed too deeply.

Addison was still there.

She had fallen asleep curled around me in the same careful position, her arm draped loosely across my waist. Her neck bent at a strange angle that couldn’t possibly be comfortable, and she clearly hadn’t moved.