Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“Holland let us know.”
My memories of what led up to my trip to the hospital are still murky around the edges, but I seem to remember Maverick stopping by the townhouse.
Did we talk?
I could have sworn he crawled into bed with me.
Unless I was already delusional by that point.
For all I know, it was a hallucination.
Or wishful thinking on my part.
A puff of air escapes from me. It would be impossible to shake off the disappointment that has taken hold.
“Just in case you were wondering, he’s the one who brought you here,” my brother murmurs, drawing my attention back to him.
Our gazes lock and hold.
My mouth turns cottony as every cell in my body goes on high alert. My voice comes out sounding raspier than intended. “Who?”
“McKinnon.”
“He did?” My eyes widen as my heart picks up tempo. “He was here?”
River’s expression remains inscrutable as he dips his head in a nod.
If Maverick wasn’t already frightened away by me passing out, I’m sure a run-in with River hammered the final nail into the coffin.
Sorry, bad joke.
As soon as my parents arrived, he probably got the hell out of Dodge as fast as humanly possible. It’s doubtful I’ll hear from the guy again.
“Yup.” My twin’s expression turns cagey. “He told the staff that you were his fiancée so he could stay with you. He didn’t want you waking up alone and not knowing where you were.”
Warmth blooms in my chest before slowly spreading outward until it reaches the very tips of my fingers and toes.
I can’t believe he did that.
River clears his throat. “As much as it pains me to say this—he seems to genuinely care about you.”
I blink, thrown off by the admittance.
I can only imagine how difficult that was for River.
A kernel of hope tentatively rises within. “Do you really think so?”
My brother jerks his shoulders as he shifts from one foot to the other. “Yeah, I do.”
Some of the heaviness pinning me to the earth lifts, making it easier to breathe.
My lips twitch as I tease, “You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”
“Trust me, I’m not.”
I raise a brow, hoping that’s not his final word on the matter. “But?”
He rolls his eyes before grumbling, “I guess there are worse guys you could get involved with than Maverick McKinnon.”
“That’s progress, and I’ll take it.” I tilt my head and study him. “Would you believe that you two actually have a lot in common? If you weren’t always at each other’s throats, you’d probably be friends.”
It’s almost comical the way his face scrunches. “Sorry to disappoint, sis, but that’s never going to happen.”
A small smile simmers around the corners of my lips. “Anything’s possible.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”
Our mother sighs. “River…language.”
Before my brother can shoot back a response, there’s a knock on the hospital room door. A second or two passes before it opens and Maverick pokes his head inside.
Our gazes fasten.
It would be impossible not to notice the concern etched across his expression. I feel terrible that he was so worried about me.
But…is that all it was?
Concern?
The kind you feel for a friend?
He glances at my brother and then my parents. “Is it all right if I come in?”
In a surprising plot twist, they turn their attention to me for an answer.
I nod as a fresh burst of nerves detonates at the bottom of my belly.
Mom rises from the chair parked next to my bed in one swift movement. Her fingers are still clasped around mine.
Even though I don’t want to, I rip my gaze away from Maverick to meet her eyes.
She clears her throat. “We’ll go home and grab something to eat. And then we’ll return in a few hours. Hopefully, once we get back, you’ll be released.”
“If you don’t mind, Mrs. Thompson, I’d like to take Willow home.”
Indecision flickers across Mom’s face. He’s unwittingly crossed into her domain.
When she remains silent, Dad says with a meaningful look aimed in her direction, “I think that would be fine, Rebecca. Don’t you?”
Mom straightens her narrow shoulders before reluctantly relinquishing my hand and forcing a slight smile to her lips. “Sure. Will you at least text me when you get home?”
A lump of emotion settles in my throat. “Of course I will.”
She chews her lower lip before nodding.
In a way, I understand how difficult it is for her to loosen the reins and let me take control. Mom is the one who kept track of all my appointments and medications. When I was too sick to take care of myself, she’s the one who did it for me.
And I’m so appreciative of her love.
But I’m not a child anymore.
And I don’t want to be treated like I’m on the verge of relapsing.
She needs to give me the space to grow into the adult I was always meant to be. No matter how difficult that is for her.