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Everyone stared at me. I felt their eyes like a thousand burning suns.
“I appreciate you being there for Wes. For trying to protect him. But stay out of it. You have no idea about any of this. Your attitude and half-veiled comments aren’t going to hurt me. They’re going to hurt Wes. And I will not let you hurt him. I won’t let anyone hurt him.”
“Except you,” Jamie reiterated.
I took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling my jaw slide forward with the force of it. Pushing my tongue against the back of my teeth, I shook my head. “You have no idea what I do to protect him. How much I’ve—” I slammed my lips together, chest rising and falling rapidly. “You have no clue what you’re talking about, and if you care about Wes as much as you say you do, then you will let it go.”
“What about you?” Ryan asked, no challenge in his voice. “Will you let it go?”
I laughed beneath my breath. Then I met his eyes, all traces of humor evaporated. “I will never let Wes go. Never.”
I started back toward the room, but my boots made a scuffing sound when I stopped and turned. “I actually really like you guys,” I admitted, shaking my head because, frankly, it shocked the shit out of me. “I want Wes to be happy. To have friends and people who care.” I took the smallest step forward, angling myself toward the guys and away from the women. “But if you try and get in between me and my family, it won’t matter if we’re bros or how much Wes likes you. I will erase you from his life.”
I didn’t wait for a reply because none was required. I meant what I said. We could be friends, or we could be enemies. Their choice. I left them standing stunned in the hallway and went back to Wes.
9
Wes
My heart wouldn’t stopfluttering. The entire time the doctor and nurse poked and prodded, asking me a thousand and two questions, I expected them to notice. To frown at my irregular heartbeat and quickened breath and declare I couldn’t go home.
But they didn’t seem to notice.
Which, frankly, made me wonder if they were good at their jobs. How could they not notice how fucking far gone I was?
Despite the aches and echoes of pain in my limbs, the scrapes, bruises, and impressive headache, it all paled in comparison to what I experienced in the dark last night.
TowhoI experienced.
I knew Max well. His favorite color (black), favorite food (tacos). I knew his tattoos, his expressions, and even his moods. He trusted all of two people in this world, had a fuse so short it was practically nonexistent, and he was fiercely loyal. I also knew what he looked like as a boy after his father beat him. After his mother stood and watched, offering no help. I knew what he looked like drenched in rain as he snuck in the back door, haunted black eyes and hollowed-out cheeks. I knew he kept the most volatile pieces of him chained deep inside because they scared even him.
What I did not know was Max in the middle of the night, the softness of his give. The way his voice dropped and turned to velvet. How that velvet brushed over my already exposed feelings like a soft kiss.
Baby.He called me fucking baby.
His fingers in my hair, the sound of the breath in his lungs, and his steady heartbeat right beneath my ear. I fit perfectly in his lap. Like I belonged there.
You don’t belong there, Wes. Stop.
I couldn’t stop, though. I relived every second of those hours, of the way his very presence blurred out my worst trauma and blanketed me with comfort. I discovered that even asleep, I was drawn to him, rousing just enough to marvel at how it felt to lie against him before drifting off again in contentment. There was so much of Max to love. Finding new parts hurt and excited me all at once.
The tug-of-war inside me grew a little greater. The tight rope I walked stretched finer as I wobbled in between who Max was to me and who I wished he could be.
The intimacy we fell into last night—albeit brief—was so dangerous for me because I learned what we were capable of. What could be. He filled me up so good. So good that now I felt malnourished.
My hands shook as I tugged clean clothes out of the bag my friends brought from my dorm. Muffled voices carried outside the bathroom, my ears automatically focusing on one in particular. Max was planted on the other side, guarding the door like it was his God-given right. He was pissed I wouldn’t let him come in, but shit, I needed a breather. It would take me twice as long to get dressed, but I needed that time too. Hope was a clingy bastard. Hope also hurt.
It didn’t matter how many times I told myself not to go there or that it would never happen. I hoped just the same.
Maybe my accident flipped a switch. Maybe seeing me in a hospital bed made Max realize I was more than his brother. He called me baby. He held me in his lap. My God, his voice. The way he looked at me…
Maybe he can love me too.
My heart flipped again, this time my stomach following suit.
Leaning into the wall, I dipped my chin to stare at my bare chest. How could it look so normal when it felt filleted and bare?
The rumble of Max’s voice echoed on the other side of the door. It was a good reminder that my hope was wasted. He’d been freaked out last night. Win had been the same. Of course he acted like that because he thought I might die. Just because he didn’t love me the way I hoped didn’t mean he didn’t love me at all.
