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Saxon’s mouth moves with wordless animation.
“Thank you for being there for me, Saxon. I won’t forget it.”
I don’t know why, but I do something totally unexpected. I step forward, stand on tippy toes, and kiss Saxon’s stubbled cheek. The texture is rough, but it’s also incredibly soft. I can’t help but compare the feeling to Sam’s.
I’m wrapped in his signature fragrance and the perfume has me closing my eyes, basking in the bouquet. I’ll miss him, which is ridiculous. Collecting myself, I step away, ready to say farewell. “Bye—” But I gasp, unable to finish when Saxon places a finger over my lips.
I meet his eyes, confusion swirling in mine. “I’m staying.”
“What?” I mumble in disbelief from under his fingertip.
“I’m staying,” he repeats, sweeping his finger down my lip, releasing me.
I try not to fall forward. Everything is too much. “Are you staying because I told you not to?” I ask, baffled. Is this one of those reverse psychology things?
He smirks. “No, Lucy, I’m staying because I want to.”
“But why?” I’m grateful, I truly am. I just don’t understand why he would choose to stay. “What reason is there for you to stay?”
The space between us becomes stiflingly still and I feel beads of perspiration form at the base of my spine. He takes a confident step forward while I stand my ground, too baffled to move.
“Ask me again when all of this is over with,” he replies, his voice heavy, driven with nothing but emotion.
My head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as I nod.
I don’t know why, but I feel like when I ask that question again, his response will change everything I believe in and love.
Nine
One WeekLater
“Do you want to go for a walk?”
Sam looks up at me like I’ve just asked him to donate a kidney. “No, Lucy, I do not want to go for a fucking walk. I want to go home.” I suppose I should be grateful he got my name right.
“Samuel! Language,” Kellie scolds, looking up from her fashion magazine. “Apologize to Lucy.”
“Sorry, Mom, and Lucy—” he looks at me guiltily “—but I just want to go home,” he gripes, sinking against his pillows.
“I know, sweetheart, but the doctors say you need to stay for observation. There is still some swelling around your brain.”
“I doubt the swelling is from the accident. It’s most likely because I’ve got a headache from the constant nagging.” He glares at me while I timidly return to browsing through my iPad.
Sam has made his feelings for me perfectly clear—he hates my guts. I don’t know why he does, but it appears he can stand to be around everyone except me.
I’m trying not to meddle or hover, but I’m just so relieved he’s okay. I need to touch him to make sure he’s real, but the moment I come within reach, I recoil, afraid I’ll lose a finger. Kellie even appears overprotective and sends me on ridiculous errands to keep me away. The only person who seems to want me around is Saxon.
How backwards my life has become.
“Hey.”
I leap up from my seat the moment Saxon enters the room. He’s holding two cups of coffee, and I’m really hoping one is mine.
“Please tell me that’s an Irish coffee without the coffee,” Sam says, looking hopeful.
Saxon raises his eyebrows to the ceiling. “Good to see you’re Mr. Funbags today.” He passes me the coffee without making a fuss.
I gratefully accept and cradle the cup, basking in the warmth, as there is a constant chill in the air whenever I’m in this room.
