Page 101 of Never Have I Ever

My door opens, my body still pinned. The airbag deflates, and my seat belt is released. I’m pulled into his arms and carried to the back of the car, but his steps falter before we get any farther.

I’m set on my feet so he can brace himself on his arm, his body held by the car. Reaching up, he touches my cheek, but the blood furrows in his brow and causes him to look down. “I’m . . .” He coughs.

I wedge myself against him, finding the strength. I’ll be here for him. Looking around, I yell, “Help us. Please help us.” Grabbing his hand, I kiss it. I kiss it a million times like he’s kissed mine. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

He smiles, paling under the loss of blood. My heart is so wrapped up in this man, and my knees weaken. “C’mere, baby.”

Sliding my arms around his middle, I kiss him on the lips, selfishly needing him to live so I can. I’ll breathe for him if that’s what it takes. His head rolls on his neck, and there’s that lady-killer smile, even now. “I’m here. I’m here, babe.”

Despite the blood, he caresses my cheek and stares at my mouth. “You were sunshine, blinding me in the crowd, and I fell so madly—” He coughs, his smile disappearing as his arm starts to give out. His weight falls on me, but I hold tighter. It’s only a whisper, but he says, “I’m madly in love with you. Always have been.”

“Hold on to me.” I lie against the car, my ribs aching under the pressure.

His head bobs forward, but when he catches himself and looks up, our eyes fix on each other. “I never let you go. You were always with me.”

I won’t look away. I could stare into his eyes forever. “I remember meeting you backstage and the wild weekend that followed. I remember you drawing our tattoos on a napkin and talking you into making them permanent. I remember I chose yours to be over your heart so you’d always have a reminder of me. You chose my spot as a reminder that I was yours.” Putting my cheek against his, I whisper, “There could never be another once I met you.”

His hand slides around me, and he nods. When speaking becomes too much for him, I keep talking for the two of us. “Let’s play a game. I’ll go first.” His head rests on my shoulder, so I turn and say, “Never have I ever loved anyone as much as I love you.” I struggle for air, tears streaming down my face, but I whisper, “Your turn, Laird.”

Stifling a sob, I dip my cheek to his neck, needing to find a pulse. “Never have I ever . . .” Hearing his voice allows me to breathe again.

“Never have you ever what, babe? Tell me,” I cry. “Please tell me.”

The sirens blare in the background when he whispers, “Told you that you are the greatest love and loss of my life.”

35

Laird

“What’s a little internal bleeding?”

My mom’s sigh leaves her frowning, but when she wipes under her eyes again, it softens. “Don’t joke like that. I was so worried.” She’s gentle when she touches my arm. If she could make sure I’m in one piece, she would, but she’ll have to rely on the doctors this time.

“I’m okay. I promise.”

She moves beside my dad, out of sorts and clutching her purse as if she needs to busy herself. I suppose that’s what happens when the roles change because your children are grown. “Hey, Mom, one last hug?”

Her smile is worth the pain enduring. I’ll never tell, refusing to make her feel bad for caring about me. I’ll be the same with my kids—always there for them.

“Tonight was not funny, Laird,” Nikki says, holding Tulsa’s hand.

“Tough crowd. I’ll try harder next time.” She rolls her eyes under quiet laughter. It’s fun to get her going. Reminds me of when we were little. We just looked at each other across the room from our time-out corners and got time tacked on for laughing so hard. I was trouble enough, but we were twins. Good times.

My dad steps off to the side of the corridor and lowers his voice. “Paparazzi are outside.”

Tulsa looks over his shoulder and then steps behind Nikki as if he can shield her from prying eyes. “I told Johnny and Tommy not to come to the hospital, but they’d be here if it didn’t cause such a distraction.”

Nikki adds, “I told Tulsa’s brothers the same. It’s too much attention when we didn’t know what we were facing on arrival. With you, Poppy, or dealing with those jerks.” Coming closer, she holds her arms out.

“It’s for the best.” I bring her in, flinching when she tries to embrace me like usual.

“Sorry.” Her grimace is unnatural to her typically happier expression. I hate that I’m worrying everyone. “We need you healed.”

I glance at a doctor walking by. When he passes, the nurses at the station nearby duck and start looking busy. I’d heard whispers earlier and spotted them staring. I smile and receive a fit of giggles in return.

Taking my mom by the hand, my dad angles her toward the elevator. “It’s late, and we know you’re anxious to see Poppy.”

I look at the door and then to the name tag on the wall where someone put a sticker of a poppy flower. I learned to appreciate the little things years ago, but this little bright spot brings hope along with it. Like the woman inside the room.

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