Page 19 of Tips and Trysts

“I was a politics major,” I answer, blinking. “Do I look like I know any theorems?”

Essie’s shoulders slump. “I have a paper to write,” she explains, being extraordinarily evasive, which annoys me.Come on now, Essie. We both know where this is going. “I know—”

“Go,” I interject, impatient, sure—but efficient too, so it’s a wash.

“I’m not leaving my best friend alone in a hospital.”

“Who said she was going to be alone? Go. This conversation isn’t doing either of us any favors.”

If Cora were here, she would chastise me for being flippant to one of her two best friends.Go fuck your own face, Everett. That’s her favorite one. It’s my favorite too because she always says my name at the end. She spits it like a profanity—like she can feel me down to her toes.

I love it.

“Text me when she’s free,” Essie requests while hoisting her bag. She rushed over from the library, and I don’t think she realized she was clutching a crushed energy drink in her fist for the first fifteen minutes. “And it would be great if you could also refrain from making out with her and then deciding you’re over it while you’re still holding her bare ass cheeks.”

I bite down to keep from reacting. Of course Cora told Essie about the elevator. She tells Essie and Valeria literally everything.

Last night, I waited for her to come home, but when sunrise came, I figured she crashed somewhere. The thought of Cora spending a night in a college dorm, of all places, irks me. Cora shouldn’t be sleeping in a bed used by hundreds of coeds. Frankly, the only thing that should touch her gorgeous body are three thousand thread count organic linen sheets—or my hands.

“I’ll try my best to avoid that,” I respond, keeping my expression stoic.

“Again,” Essie emphasizes, glaring. “Avoid itagainbecause you already did it. You already—”

“Can I at least apologize to her before I apologize to you?”

“Apologize? Everett, I hope you brought knee pads because you should be groveling,” she informs me.

Groveling? “What for?”

Her eyes widen. “Have you lost your mind?”

It’s bold of Essie to assume I have a mind left to lose. I likely lost my mind seven months ago on the night Cora entered my life. “What am I groveling for?”

“Foreverything,” Essie snaps before she breathes out like she’s calming herself. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Cora has dealt with enough rich assholes to last a lifetime. Don’t make things worse for her.”

My pulse spikes. “What rich assholes are you talking about, Essie?” I inquire, and the way I keep my tone in check is a masterclass in restraint.

“Forget it. I have to go. Promise you’ll text me?”

I nod.

Once Essie is gone, my pacing begins. I go from one end of the shabby waiting room to the other, back and forth, probably wearing a path in the horrendous linoleum tiles.

This goes on until one of the nurses gets lazy (or maybe someone winked at her, thereby distracting her, but who knows), and doesn’t stop me from slipping through one of the restricted doors beyond the waiting room.

For the next few minutes, I look into rooms or through gaps in the interior blinds, navigating the maze of gurneys and IVs and charts I don’t understand. It’s invasive. Hell, it’s likely illegal. I could wait, I know. I should. Most people would.

But I’m done waiting.

After five minutes, I round the corner of the first hallway and venture into a second. It’s the same deal over here: no sign of her.

Luckily, the third hallway is the one. When I turn the corner, there’s an MPD officer standing in front of a door. The look he sends me is clear:No one is allowed to enter. But the blinds are open enough for me to see inside.

It’s her.

Cora is seated on a bed, wearing a seafoam green hospital gown and speaking to two more officers. She’s reclining against a pile of floppy hospital pillows, expression serious, and she’s just so fucking beautiful.

Even under fluorescent lights, her skin shimmers with warm undertones, like sun and heat. Her dark hair rests on her shoulders, thick, shiny, and long—like I could wind a handful of it around my fist a few times before I pull her head back to kiss her.

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