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“Okay, sir. Have a seat.” One of the nurses gestures to a chair and the other one sort of coaxes him into it. “We’re going to be right back with the paperwork for your sister, okay?” One of the nurses says. She turns back to me and winks, letting me know that they’re all very well aware of the fact that Gavin and I are a little more than relatives.
In fact, we probably smell like sex. I definitely have sex hair after giving my very first blowjob.
“Honey, I’ll be right back. Stay where you are,” a nurse tells me, and then they both leave, and Gavin and I are alone. He looks so scared and lost, and I hate knowing that he’s feeling frustrated and sad by what’s happened to me.
“I’m okay,” I whisper. I have the nebulizer mask over my lips and nose, but I can still speak clearly. My face feels damp from the medicine, and I hate it, but this type of treatment won’t last too long. In less than twenty minutes, I should be as good as new, and I won’t have to come back unless I have another flareup that’s as bad as that one.
“I can’t believe you’re in the hospital,” he says.
“Well, I’m not in the hospital. I’m just in the emergency room. They aren’t admitting me, Gavin. That’s good news. It means it’s not that bad.”
“You scared me,” he whispers. His entire face is pale. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
“Oh, Gavin.” I reach for his cheek with one hand. “You aren’t getting away from me that easily, you silly goose.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He presses his forehead to mine and we stay like that for a very long time. His words sink down into my soul because I don’t know what I’d do without him, either.
I’d be lost.
I’d be broken.
Chapter 16
Gavin
WHEN WE LEAVE THE HOSPITAL, I don’t take Emilia back to her dorm room. I take her back to mine. I probably should be taking her to her own bedroom or even to a hotel, but I don’t have the money for a hotel, and it’s easier to sneak girls into the boys’ dormitory than the other way around.
And there’s no way I’m not spending tonight with her.
No way, no how.
We get into my bedroom and I close the door. She stops in the doorway and looks around. My room is very minimalist, and I think this surprises her a little bit.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?” I raise an eyebrow.
“I don’t know,” she says carefully. “A jock’s room, maybe. You know: helmets on the wall and that sort of thing. Maybe I thought there would be posters from your favorite teams, or jerseys on the wall.”
“Nope.”
“Instead,” she looks around the space. “Your bed is neatly made. You only have one blanket, from the looks of it, and somehow, but I don’t know how, you’ve got a single pillow.”
“I’m just one person,” I say. Why would I need more than that?’
“And is that a spider plant?” She takes a step forward to look at the little plant sitting in my window sill.
“I like plants.”
Suddenly, I feel a little defensive. I can be a jock and still like plants. There’s nothing wrong with that.
“I think it’s sweet.” She’s not judging me. She reaches for the plant and strokes the green leaves that just keep getting longer and longer, and then she turns to me. “Thank you for today.”
“For almost killing you or for ruining your dad’s legacy?” I scoff.
