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“About—” My breath caught.
“The panic attack at your house the night of my jailbreak. It scared the shit out of me. Didn’t much care for it. So I pried.” He shrugged. “Didn’t tell me anything. Said it was your story to tell.”
“Drey was sweet to me. Held up the iPad at Angelina’s wedding and, well, other things so I could be a part of it.”
“My brother, the saint.” He grunted. “Rocks crack babies. Helps his fucked-up brother. You name it.”
“Hey now. You’re not fu—”
“Will you tell me what happened to you?”
I gulped, not wanting to talk about this but knowing I was going to have to at some point. “Someday…”
“I’ll take it.” He smiled, then said, “Got a shirt yet? Or do you want to ogle my bare chest a little longer?”
I handed him the cotton V-neck, my cheeks, once again, steaming hot. “We should get you a belt.”
“Sure.” He threaded his head through the neck of the shirt. “Feels good. It doesn’t have some dorky image on it, does it?”
“No. You’re good,” I said, staring at his hands smoothing the front.
It wasn’t quite right. There was a little crease right down the middle. He didn’t quite get it. “Here.” I smoothed it for him, but it wasn’t quite right. “Let’s get this fixed.”
On the third swipe, it was finally right.
He grabbed my wrist. “All better?”
“Yeah. There was a crease.”
“Crease, huh? I thought maybe you couldn’t resist all this awesome and justhadto touch.”
“Well, there’s that.” I joked as I stepped back.
He grasped my shoulders with astonishing accuracy. “I asked Drey about you, because I’m into you, but shit’s a little up in the air right now. And—”
“It’s fine.” I went to step back, but he held tighter. “Really. It’s okay.”Don’t cry.“Things are intense. I get it.”
“Totally not where I was going with this.” One hand glided up my shoulder to my neck. “Man, I wish I could see you. I’m working through a few things. It’s not that I don’t want you. So not the issue there.” He drew in a deep breath.
“You’ve got a lot on your plate. I—I get it.”
He tugged me closer. “LizBelle. I’m a mess, but you make things right. I can’t explain it. The way you kicked my ass to the curb when I woke up in my puke at your place. Exactly what I needed. You get me.”
“When I used to lie with you, watching TV, I would imagine how things would be if you were awake.”
“LizBelle,” he whispered.
“What we’d talk about. The music we’d listen to. Talking about what our lives were like before all this crap happened. Stuff like that. Oh, and eating Blow Pops.”
“And popcorn. Can’t forget that. Matter of fact, I need some, pronto. I haven’t had any since I woke up. I started a list on my phone of things I need to eat now that I’m awake.”
“I also thought about what you’d be like, you know, when you woke up.”
“And…”
“You’re interesting.”
“Thanks, I think?” He quirked an eyebrow.
