Page 78 of Make Me Dream of You

She nods. “Um, yeah.” A bit frazzled, Macy looks around for her purse. “I should check my levels?—”

Wood grabs her purse from the chair across from me and they head down the hall.

I sit back in the chair.

People walk by. Quiet conversations down the hall, the incessant little beeps and doors closing. I hate hospitals. They’re depressing as fuck. I’m glad I didn’t have to spend any time in the hospital after everything.

No, they all died on scene. Would have been nice to be able to say goodbye, though.

I was the last one awake by five in the morning, but my body finally succumbed, and I passed out.

Now my neck is stiff, and my back protests as I unbend myself to get out of this chair. The morning sun shines in from somewhere around a corner and people are no longer speaking in hushed voices.

We get her checked out around eight and drive back to the house. She sits snug between Bex and Macy in the middle seat while I clench my jaw in the front seat, unaware I’m digging my fingers into my knee until we pull onto the circle drive.

As soon as Wood puts the car in park, I jump out and rip the back door open.

Bex hops out, looking confused.

“Come here,” I say to Livvy, holding my arms out to her.

I don’t care about the looks Bex and Macy give me when I scoop her up in my arms and carry her into the house. I don’t stop. I carry her up both flights of stairs, her head on my shoulder.

Her breath is warm against my neck, and the simple realization that I can feel her breathing almost sends me to my knees like last night.

“I’m okay. I can walk,” she whispers. Her voice is hoarse, and I clench my jaw, tightening my hold on her.

I take her up to her room, and I know I should put her down, let her get cleaned up, dressed, whatever. But I don’t want to let go. I don’t even want to let her out of my sight.

So I sit on the bed, cradling her in my arms. She puts her arms around my neck and looks up at me. A tear streaks down her cheek, and then another.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have gone out there. I should have told you I’m not a strong swimmer, I shouldn’t?—”

“Shh.” I hug her to me and kiss her forehead, letting my lips linger there for a second, breathing her in. When I pull back, more tears have fallen, and I wipe them away with my thumb.

She looks up at me, and I can’t imagine never having gotten to see those beautiful green eyes again, smell her hair, see her smile, hear her laugh. Her lips are parted, back to their pretty pink color, perfectly plump. It would be inappropriate to kiss her right now.

But god, I want to kiss her.

“I’m cold,” she says, shifting on my lap.

My first instinct is to tear back the covers, put her in bed and climb in behind her, hold her tight to me. I’ll hold her as long as she wants and keep her warm.

“I’m going to go take a hot shower. Get cleaned up and dressed.”

Oh. Right, that makes sense. “Do you need help?”

She rolls her eyes and lets out one breathy laugh. “I’m not going to drown in the shower, Noah.”

I don’t think she realizes how her words rip through my gut like a serrated knife. “I know, I just—” Fuck. “I’ll wait here.”

She squeezes my hand and smiles. “Thank you.” Then she goes into the bathroom, and I lie back on the bed, listening to the sound of the running water, trying not to see her disappearing in the lake again.

I’m trying not to picture her with blue lips and lifeless eyes and limp, cold fingers.

I’m trying not to think about them. Or him. Cameron.

“Where’s my sister?”

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